Home » Ponderings of the Bible » My Calling with the Prophets Part III

My Calling with the Prophets Part III

Suddenly I appear upon the next prophet that I’m to follow.  The prophet of performing arts, Ezekiel of Chebar.  This time instead of a temple or a bed, I’m just minding my own business.  Before me is what is known as the Chebar Canal, it’s a cool sight as far as canals go.  Not as comfortable as a bed per-say, but at least I’m not knelling on my knees this time.  So Far I’ve sought God and I’ve been called, God’s sought me and I’ve answered, and now I’ve come here and I’m not sure how this time around I’m going to figure out this whole calling business.  I’ve certainly been on an interesting ride, but I’m not finished, as Yahweh keeps telling me.

Things are peaceful one second and the next they aren’t.  Suddenly a huge gust of wind blows right at me.  Thanks God, I so love wind blowing in my face. Of course that’s just the start of it.  Clouds of impending doom, flashing fire (whatever that is?) and radiance.  I’ve just about figured that I’m not having a normal day anymore.  This is the point where I start wondering that if at times when God calls people to do whatever if I know he won’t show up, but does he give clear signs still?  Y’know certain events that just tell you that God’s leading you a certain way.  Like Balaam’s donkey, could some sort of events lead me to where I’m supposed to go?

After this I’m treated to angels of some sorts and God, God who I’m not going to bother to explain.  Go read the Bible and try to understand it if you want, personally I’m just going to fall before a holy god, the god of Israel, Yay Yahweh?  The being looks at me and at the moment I’m not really seeing a kind and in-spite-of-myself God.  No not me at the moment, I’m with a God of Rightness.  I’m pretty sure I’m shivering a little, maybe quaking even, never thought I be a Quaker.  I pretty sure I was wrong.  “Uh. . .  Hey?” I state.  “How’s it. . . Uh. . .  going Adonai?”

God looks at me in this strange and powerful presence.  “Fleshling.”  He seems to cross his arms.  “Stand up!”  I stay sitting for a while those visions were just a bit much.  “Hurry it up Fleshling!”  At the moment God doesn’t seem to be keen on being nice to me, not like the past two times.  I’m painfully aware at the moment that I’m a sinner, and God and I aren’t on the same plane.  “Uh. . .  sorry Adonai Yahweh.”  I’m still a little bit in awe when suddenly something brings me to the feet.  It’s gentle and kind feeling (dare I call it, the Holy Spirit?).  Perhaps I have to remember that God is one God, and while he can be nice he still a being to be fear.

That’s what’s happening now, the Fear of Yahweh, maybe. . .  Lady Wisdom’s around ^_^  “I’m sending you Fleshling.”  Yahweh orders.  Oh This is interesting I’m no longer being called, no this forced enlistment.  God help me, uh. . .  never-mind that. . . “The people are rebels their father’s are rebels, why you might even be one to.”  I’m not I swear.  “We’ll see…”  Oh yeah he’s all knowing.  “So they’ll probably not listen to you, but I don’t care you’ll speak to them or be held responsible.”

“Oh.”  I say.  “that kind of bites.”
“Don’t worry about them, Fleshling.” Well that was kind of nice, well he even shows his niceness, kind of, here.  “Do not be afraid of them.”  Well that’s good, since you did kind of force me to speak your words.  Then suddenly a scroll drops in front of my feet.  I look at it and frown.  before I can ask, Yahweh orders: “Eat it.” It lifts up and is headed toward my mouth.  It doesn’t look like a pleasant experience.

“Hey!” I shout
“You’ll eat what I’ve given you Fleshling.”  He orders.  So I do, what fun.  So, so-far God has forced me into a call and force fed me.  For what?  At least it tasted like honey. . .  At the moment God is scaring me.  I’m not sure how to deal with this idea of a force called.  Does  it still happen today?  How would I know?  Doors are slammed shut on me?  What am I suppose to do, go AWOL?  I don’t think God would appreciate that.  I think I can handle God force feeding words into my mouth.  At least what I said wouldn’t be stupid then.  I’m suddenly no longer by the canal and in darkness again.

“God.”  I ask.  “How is this supposed to help me?”
“I’ve got my ways.” God answers.  “Don’t worry about them too much Fleshling.”
“Thanks…  Thanks a lot.”  I’ve become a bit sarcastic with God… I hope I’m not hit hard by him.  “Where else are we headed?
“Just wait. . .”

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