Yesterday I posted my granddaughter's testimony of how she came to know the Lord, which was when Jesus visited her personally. I'm sure there are many who would argue that this was a hysterically or emotionally produced sight because she was under such stress.
That could be true. Or maybe not.
I've talked with several people in the past thirty years who related similar happenings: one was a man wondering if he was really supposed to go into the ministry; another was a woman grieving over the recent death of her husband. I heard of many others, too numerous to recount here, from people who seemed quite sane otherwise.
And if I hadn't seen a vision of Jesus myself, that would probably have been my own conclusion. It happened about 30 years ago, not long after I had become a Christian.
Every night before I went to sleep, I would spend some time talking with the Lord. And because I'm sure you're wondering: Yes, I was wide awake. I don't remember any of the rest of the conversation. I remember saying, "Lord, I sure wish I could see what You look like."
Most artistic renditions at that time had been of a European-looking man with squeaky-clean, wavy, shoulder-length brown hair. They looked a little like He must have just come from a beauty salon.
I heard a voice in my heart. He said, "Open your eyes." Now, my eyes had been open much of the time, staring at the wall while I prayed, but not seeing anything. You know what I mean if you're a praying person. If I always prayed with my eyes shut, I'd have run off the road years ago. At the time I heard the voice, my eyes had been shut. Probably envisioning one of the scenarios in the Bible.
No, I told you already, I wasn't asleep.
In response to His command, I opened my eyes and looked at the door to the bedroom. There, on the wooden door, was a head shot of the Lord. Dark brown hair, but not quite shoulder length. I can't tell you if it would have been wavy, but it looked like he'd been a couple days without a visit to the local salon. It looked a little wind blown.
I think his nose was a little long, but I wasn't focused on His nose--or his hair, for that matter. His eyes demanded my attention. And mouth, too, a suppose. Both His eyes and His mouth smiled.
Have you ever seen a father watching his beloved toddler do something funny? For instance, taking a bite of a cookie and handing the rest to a sibling? Amused, but pleased?
That's what His expression said. And He was looking at me.
Wow--30 years ago, and the memory can still bring tears to my eyes. I couldn't tell anyone for a couple of months. It was too intensely personal. And when finally I told my best friend, I cried like a baby. For the next year, if I could bring myself to tell anyone, I cried. Not sad tears, happy ones.
What do you think?
Have you seen anything like this?
Or do you think anyone who has seen a vision like this should be hauled to the nearest hospital?