An Easter Story - A Deer Prayer (Part 1 of 3)

Have you ever found yourself stuck at a crossroad?
Battled a fear?
Maybe asked God for something crazy?

Fear had found me, wrapped its arms around me and held me hostage. I knew I was at a crossroad and I needed to make a choice!

It had been quite a few years earlier when God had quietly asked, “Do you trust me?”

At the time, it seemed like a simple question, and my reply came easily, “Yes, God, I love you!” I mean, love and trust are kinda the same, right?

He and I were still getting to know each other back then, and we chatted regularly. My faith was growing, and I had no doubt He was the real deal – well, except for the few days I wasn’t sure… but all in all, I had started an unexpected journey into finding a close friend.

Yes, a close friend, you know, that type of friend that would remind you that you left the garden tap on, as you rush out the door, late for an appointment, then slows you up further as your attention is brought to a stick insect hanging from the fly screen, because stick insects are cool and should be appreciated, even when you are in a rush. I loved that He stood with me, His presence light and settling when I felt nervous or lonely, and He took the time to place gentle words of encouragement into my heart when I felt sad. He knew the places I liked to chat with Him most and would remind me when we hadn’t chatted there for a while. Best of all, He loved to tell me stories, and at the end of each story He would inevitably ask me to respond to one of three appeals – all to which immediately took me out of my comfort zone, stirred my heart, and brought me to a place of wonder…

“Keep your eyes on me” came His first appeal. It was challenging, because I was much better at keeping my eyes on myself. I felt safer making life decisions based on professional opinions and my own wisdom, with an added genuine prayer to keep God included. For the most part, I always thought that I had kept my eyes on Him, yet each time He told me a story, it would be pointed out that in fact I had my eyes elsewhere.

“Write about our friendship” came the next appeal. This was difficult, because I found talking much easier. Writing also had an added hurdle – once something was in black and white, it was much harder to deny or run away from. As I like to think of myself as someone who stands by truth, I understood that whatever I wrote, I had to believe to be truth. Was my relationship with God truth or was it a creative and elaborate imagination of mine? 

“Help others tell their story” came His last appeal. This hit home.  A loved one in my life was hurt as a child and was never given a safe space to have a conversation about what they had experienced or how that experience affected their day-to-day life as an adult and – unbeknown to me at the time – had shaped and confused my understanding of unconditional love and how it related to trust. Each time God shared a story with me, I began to see the value in my own story, but I also saw the value and power in other people’s stories. Story is important, because it forms the backbone of who we are, and the better we can share stories, the better we can understand ourselves, each other, and can hear from one another of the power God has to transform us.

Ten years later, still battling with these three appeals, I found myself driving into town, pondering. Pondering about how I could be 100% certain it was God’s voice I could hear appealing to me. I mean, it wasn’t as if I hadn’t responded at all: I had actively been doing bits and pieces in the background – particularly when I was in a good place on the menstrual cycle and I was at my most emotionally stable.

 “Do you trust me?” the familiar voice came again, patiently waiting a reply. I knew I was at a crossroad. 

It hit me! I understood that over the last few years, every question I had – He had answered; every doubt – He had taken away; every obstacle – He had shifted, and I was left with one thing: Fear. A fear that felt like it had hold of me and wouldn’t let go. Fear that prevented me from moving forward in the appeals set before me. Fear that kept me looking at myself. Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure. Fear that I didn’t have enough knowledge. Fear that I might be a fool, or someone might think I was foolish in believing God could be the type of friend I believe He had become to me. 

So, in my mind, being held by fear, I asked God for something crazy…

”Ok God, I promise I will keep my eyes on You, and believe it’s really You that is talking with me and I will begin writing as soon as I get home today – if You can show me a deer...”