He spoke to me...

He Spoke to Me

A little girl, a cruel word, and the moment I knew I had a Father in Heaven.

In the musical Woman in the Wind — the true story of the pioneer Drusilla Hendricks, drawn from her own journals — there is a moment I have never been able to forget. Drusilla, just a girl of nine or ten, is in the barn with her father, and he is gently insisting that God does not speak to people. He finishes his work and walks out. And the little girl stays behind, and quietly, almost to herself, she says four small words:

“He speaks to me.”

What moves me most is that Drusilla’s experience with God came before she had any church at all. She was only a child. She simply knew.

I believe, with all my heart, that God is a loving Father who truly does speak to His children. Often He speaks through other people — which means we have to be ready to listen. So if you’re facing a health struggle right now, pay attention to the unexpected phone call, the chance conversation, the friend who offers an idea you hadn’t considered. Who knows? That very conversation may be God’s quiet way of answering the prayer you’ve been praying. (It is certainly how so many of my own answers have come.)

— ♥ —

When I was in second grade, a little girl teased me because my parents were divorced. She taunted me that I didn’t have a “father.” It was the first time anyone had ever been truly cruel to me — honestly, the only time, before or since. And it left me standing there in the hallway, turning her words over and over in my heart. For the first time, I realized I was one of the only children in my class without a father living at home.

And then, as I stood there pondering, a feeling came over me — strong, and sure, and utterly undeniable. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I did have a Father. A Heavenly Father. Nothing in this life could ever make me forget the words and the feeling that poured into every cell of my body that day. I was only nine or ten years old, and I can still tell you the exact spot where I stood: in the hallway of my elementary school, right in front of the library. I will never forget it as long as I live.

He spoke to me. I wasn’t even asking for an answer — but it came.

God does speak to His children. The key is learning how to listen for the answers and the direction He gives. I’m not saying I hear His voice — that has happened just once, for a frightened little girl in second grade who didn’t ask to be comforted, and was comforted anyway. But what I know for certain is that I have a Father in Heaven who loves me and is mindful of me. And just like little Drusilla Hendricks, I can say it too — only mine is in the past tense: He spoke to me. In a most unexpected and wonderful way, it came.

He is mindful of you, too — of exactly where you are and what you are carrying today. And of this I am absolutely certain: He LOVES YOU, and He loves YOUR FAMILY.

A word of caution

As you learn to hear your Heavenly Father, there is something important I want you to know: not every thought or impression that comes to you is from Him. The scriptures are full of good people who prayed in faith — and were then met, not by God, but by the adversary trying to stand in His place and deceive them.

Think of Moses. He had just beheld the glory of God face to face — so when Satan appeared moments later, trying to pass himself off as someone to be worshiped, Moses wasn’t fooled. Anchored in what he had truly just experienced, he commanded, “Depart from me, Satan.” Jesus did the same in the wilderness. Weak from forty days of fasting, He met every temptation with truth from the scriptures — “It is written” — and finally told the adversary plainly to depart. Again and again, faithful men and women have had to recognize a counterfeit and send it away.

So as you work to talk with your loving Heavenly Father, stay determined — and stay discerning. The Book of Mormon gives us a simple measuring stick: whatever invites you toward good, toward peace, toward Christ, is from God; whatever discourages, confuses, and pulls you down is not. And so often, those lies are aimed at your very worth. Please — do not believe them, not for a single moment.

I’ve had to learn this discernment in more than one hard season. In my toughest days of illness, I had to learn to tell the difference between the heavy, untrue thoughts that a struggling body can whisper and what was actually real and true. Whether it’s the adversary or the fog of a hard day telling you that you’re not enough, the answer is always the same: don’t believe the lie. Plant your feet on the truth you can always come back to —

You are loved.

You are known.

And you are a child of God.

With much love,

Steffanie