Skip to main content

Did you ever wonder how you actually hear God?

I do , I wonder that when I pray. I don't know if I need more practice or something, which sounds odd since I've been praying my whole life. And not the selfish prayers of "give me what I want" type, but heartfelt prayers asking for guidance in walking my saviors way.

But how do I know if I am hearing God, if I ask for a response, how do you know if it's really the will of God that you imagine or just what you want to hear?

Too many times throughout life people make decisions because they believe it's the will of God, but often have convinced themselves of it. I know that I convinced myself for years that my husband wasn't cheating when he was, and that he loved me, even when he was cruel. So what's the difference.

I asked Riddick this the other night, how to know. He offered this advice..that you can't ask God a question that you already know the answer to. Hmm..that just makes me think even more.

More prayer needed I believe.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Rats Exposed!

I yelled that once. Not really yelled, more like exclaimed it loudly and with panic. Panic caused by the fear of projectile vomit coming out all over me and everyone else at the table. I was on Roatan, with two friends, Missy and Prissy. We had been "dolphin trainers for a day" and had chosen to buy the cheap lunch with the locals. We were told they had only two plates of fish left and than the conejo. Conejo is spanish for "rabbit". So I made the sacrifce and let the twins have the fish. It's not my favorite meat, but I figured what the heck..when in rome... All was good until the american dolphin trainer walked by and was kind enough to tell me that "conejo" wasn't the "rabbit" I was thinking of. She said the magic word.."Watusa" Abruptly a plate with rice and fried plantain appear with a dark sweet smelling meat...Watusa. That's when the yelling came in and the controlled gag reflex fyi....Watusa is a damm r

I miss my mom!

I can't express to anyone why the ache of missing my Mom comes and goes at is does.  Perhaps it's because I am approaching the anniversary of her death, September 28, 1988.  But beyond that, right now, this moment, I am aching for my Mom. I had such jealousy of my friends who passed by the bullshit of teen years and got to know their Mom's as fellow adults.  Cohorts that supported each other.  In reality of my three closes friends none of them have had that much extra time with their Mom's.  Missy and Prissy lost their mom to cancer not long after I did.  Graybelle has lost her mom to the absence of other distractions.  But still I ache. I want to know what my Mom's favorite color was.  I want to know what she wanted to be when she grew up.  I want to know how she felt about gay marriage.  My gut tells me she wouldn't have given a fig, which is how I feel. But mostly I want the warm embrace.  The hug she gave me when I started my period at Burgerville.  I

In anticipation of my 40th birthday

These are just a few of the things I've learned... Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should do it. If my dogs don't like you, there's a good reason. Wearing the right size bra makes all the difference. I'm not as secure as I appear, and neither are other people. Keyless entry remotes are very helpful in finding your car in a parking lot..honk and look. Red wine makes me sweat. If you can't say anything nice, come sit by me, I'll do my best to keep you out of trouble. I am my own worst critic and the only one that matters. If you think about someone far more than they think about you, you need to re-think your thinking! And my own personal motto.... Pray like you mean it, Love like you mean it, so you can live like you mean it. Later, J