God Speaks to His People Today

I believe that God can speak to us and often does. We may not be aware that it is God all the time, but there are other times when we know beyond a doubt that it is His voice.

His voice can come to us in many different ways. Perhaps a Scripture seems to jump out at you as you are reading or listening to it proclaimed at Mass. Perhaps it is the lyrics to a hymn that suddenly bring you to tears. Or the words of a sermon or a prayer at Mass that deeply convicts you. Even something as simple as a random thought about something that you should do could be a way that God can speak to you.

I have experienced God speaking to me in all these ways. Most of the time, it is very clear to me that it is God who is speaking and that I should be obedient to do whatever it is that He is telling me to do. But there are other times when I’m not so sure, so I waffle back and forth about whether this is indeed God’s voice speaking to me. Of course, that means I do not act on the word, often to my detriment, or at least, later disappointment.

One other way that I have heard God’s voice is much more literal. I have actually “heard” a unique voice speaking to me that I know is not mine. When I say “heard,” I don’t mean audibly, like St. Paul experienced on the road to Damascus, but inside my head. Yet, I know it is not just a thought I am thinking, but a separate person speaking into my thoughts. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

This way of God speaking to me does not frighten me. Instead, the more I experience it, the more I yearn for God to speak more words to me. Now, don’t get me wrong. This is not a regular occurrence; I wish that it was. It is rare for me. But it is always powerful and moves me deeply.

The first time it happened, I remember that I was driving down the road on my way somewhere. I don’t think I was in a hurry, but I was still happy that I seemed to be catching all the green lights. I had been praising God, and I turned my praise to thanksgiving, just for giving me such an expeditious journey today. Out of the blue, I heard this voice inside my head, “I can bless you much more.”

While I was somewhat shocked—and also grateful—I couldn’t help but notice the inflection: “I can bless you…” What an odd thing to say. Not, “I will bless you,” but “I can bless you,” and that seemed to be predicated on something else. But what? I didn’t know. And believe me, I have tried often to figure out what that could be since I heard that word. I certainly want to be blest. Lord, show me what it would take on my part for you to bless me.

Another time, while I was at Mass, right after I received communion, and the congregation was singing the hymn Here I Am, Lord, I distinctly heard just two words, again inside my head: “deeper service.” I think it startled me at the time from my quiet prayer, so much so that I did not go deeper to ask the Lord what He meant. I still to this day do not know.

For some reason, at the time, I thought it referred to full-time ministry. So, I began a journey with a spiritual director, and even applied to seminary. My application was declined, something about my maturity level. Did I hear you correctly, Lord? Or did I just interpret it incorrectly?

One of my most unusual experiences of hearing God speak to me happened one winter evening. I say “unusual” because it wasn’t just God speaking to me, it was more like a conversation. You see, I had invited some friends over and we decided to watch a documentary on PBS about Mother Teresa. At one point in the presentation, it showed her ministering to lepers.

After the special was over and my friends went home, I noticed the house seemed a little chilly. Checking out the thermostat, I discovered that the furnace was not working—again! This house was a rental, and I had a lot of problems with that furnace. It was too late to call the landlord, so I turned on the portable space heater he had loaned me after the last time the furnace broke down, and I hunkered down under some blankets to wait for morning. I didn’t dare go to sleep for fear of burning the house down with the kerosene heater.

As I sat up in the wee hours of the night, trying to stay warm, I complained a lot to God in prayer. Why wasn’t He taking better care of me; why was He causing me to suffer this way. It was then I heard His voice, again inside my head. He said to me, “Do you remember those lepers from the video?” I told Him I did. Then He said to me, “I love you as much as I love them.”

Needless to say, my complaining immediately stopped. But then I thought, if you say you love them, why are they still lepers? Why don’t you heal them? And if you say you love me as much as you love them, then I guess you don’t plan on doing any miracles for me tonight with this furnace. I will continue to suffer with this situation until morning, when I can call the landlord.

Knowing that God was not going to miraculously deliver me from the circumstance didn’t bother me the same way it did before God spoke to me. There was something there in what He said that touched me deeply, even though it did not resolve my problem. He loved me. He said so. That meant something. At least I knew that He was going to be with me through the long night and I would be okay. The situation was still extremely unpleasant, but somehow I felt a warmth inside that made all the difference in the world.

The most recent time that He spoke to me was completely different from any of the other times. He spoke to me this time in a vision. Here’s how it happened.

A group of friends and I who sometimes pray together decided to go on a private retreat to the Ark and the Dove retreat center. This is the home of the famous Duquesne Weekend of 1967, which was the beginning of the charismatic renewal in the Catholic Church. The retreat center is nothing fancy; I believe it was originally a boarding house for female employees of some large Pittsburgh company, but was sold to the Church and was now used for retreats. The chapel is a very small, unassuming room on the second floor of the structure.

Our group luckily included an ordained deacon, so we were permitted to have Eucharistic Adoration as part of our weekend, with him officiating. After he had placed on the altar the monstrance containing the consecrated host, we sang some worship songs then entered into a long period of silence. The presence of God in the room was palpable.

After several minutes of silence, I looked up at the altar and saw a vision directly above the monstrance. It was within a cloud that reminded me of the balloons you see in comic strips, except this one had soft edges and the image around the perimeter within the cloud faded into the room.

What I saw within the cloud was me standing at the foot of the cross. I could see, at eye level, the bloody pierced feet of Jesus. As I looked up, I was suddenly elevated so that I was now eye level with the crossbeam of the cross, looking down the length of Jesus’ outstretched arm. I saw His head bowed slightly, but the moment I looked at it, He raised His head and turned toward me. He looked right at me and spoke. “I did this for you,” was all He said.

I am still today deeply touched by this. Tears come to my eyes even as I am writing this. He loves me. He died for me. Not just for the whole world, but for me. This vision has changed my faith. I pray now that Jesus would help me love Him as much as He loves me. I pray that He would help me to take that love and share it with others.

I have not lived a perfect life. I have often not lived a holy life. I know I am a sinner, but I also know that I have been forgiven. And when I sin again, I know I can come right back to Jesus and ask His forgiveness, and He will forgive me and continue to love me.

I pray that you would be open to hearing God speak to you in your life. Be open to all the ways He can speak to you, and maybe you’ll hear His voice one day too. It could change your life.