The Tricycle
Like cold water to a thirsty soul, so is Good News from a far country (Proverbs 25:25).
Foreword
Have you ever heard the voice of God? I know this may seem common to some of you because you hear it often, sometimes even every day!
If you’re interested to know the truth about the Living God, then do read on. I must confess however, that you might be disappointed since I can only share three occasions where I believe He has spoken to me.
Why do I profess the voice speaking to me was from the Lord? There are two reasons why I believe this to be so, on two of these occasions He warned me of impending life-threatening danger and on the last occasion when He spoke, it has something to do with the purposes of these writings.
I must confess I do not know the voice of God and how He will sound like. As a Christian, one can only imagine how the Lord spoke to His servants in the bible.
However, the voice of the Lord on all these three occasions was of the same tonality and authority, a voice that had become familiar to me through a first encounter as a child.
On all these three incidents, the voice that I heard was a stern and audible command, loud and almost booming, that seemed to emanate from without me and within me, which was how I felt when I heard the voice on all three times.
Let me also point out that I don’t know whether the Lord spoke to me directly or whether the voice came from an angel or a guardian angel, however, let me share with you all these three occasions.
The Tricycle
I was an over-active kid, someone who’d constantly look for new thrills and amusing activities (a trait, I must say I’ve carried with me even to old age) and thereby get into trouble with my parents or put me in harm’s way and sometimes, even in mortal danger.
In the 1960`s, my father was a civil servant and when I was about three years old, he was posted to a sleepy seaside town. Having nothing much in terms of entertainment for a yawning coastal enclave, every weekend we would go to the beach. In the 60’ s, the beach was pristine with clear azury waters and sparkling white sand.
There was only one main road to town and for most of the way it hugged the coast. I’ve seen some of the most glorious sunsets of my life from travelling along this road, remembering till today, a huge red ball hanging on the edge of the horizon just before dusk.
Every Sunday after morning church services, we would head to the beach which had become the family’s routine.
By noon, the sand would be hot underfoot while we took shelter under the shade of trees that grew by the beach and then had lunch. At low tide, dad would be among the rocks chiseling oysters out from their crusty beds, while mom would be squatting among the shallows looking for clams. The trick to finding these clams is to remain still, and in the heat of the day the clams would open-up, thereby revealing their whereabouts.
We stayed in a nice house which were quarters given to civil servants. Surrounding these quarters were many shrubs, one species of which produced savory berries. It became a daily routine to search out these berries from the many bushes that grew in the vicinity of the quarters. It was greatly fulfilling to get the ripe berries which became fat, rounded and purple-black in color, before the birds. It had a refreshing and unique taste, succulent when fully ripe with a burst of tangy sweetness.
The quarters that we lived in were perched half way down a hillock, this meant that the road leading to the house was on an elevation. From the main road, one had to drive up before reaching its highest point and thereafter drive down to the quarters below. I used to ride around on a tricycle from the road close to its highest elevation which meandered down to the porch of the quarters. My parents had given me strict instructions never to venture away from these perimeters.
One day, I was perhaps about four to five years old, as I pushed my (t)rusty-weathered tricycle towards the top, there was a sudden thought and strong suggestion: ‘Why don’t you ride the bike from here to the main road’? My immediate response was that it sounded like a great idea since I would have a little adventure away from familiar surroundings.
As I was about to straddle the tricycle, a very distinct and authoritative booming voice said: Do not ride downhill, TURN BACK!
I remember thinking, “Where did that voice come from?”. However, the lure of a small adventure in a little child thrust me on against any better judgement. And so, I brushed it off as perhaps my conscience thinking aloud and started riding without heeding.
The initial ride was pleasant enough as I pedaled slowly downhill and as I continued riding, the bike began to take on speed.
At this point, I started to worry as the main road began looming before me and because of an obstructed view, any vehicle passing by would not see me coming down. Being a toddler, I was frozen in terror as I sped downhill, there were no brakes on the tricycle.
About five feet from the main road, without me moving a muscle and with my hands still tightly gripping the handles, the bike swerved to my left and stopped at a grassy patch, while a bus wheezed by on the main road. I would’ve certainly met an untimely death that day were it not for the grace of God.
The bike also rolled in gently to stop inches away from a wooden bench as though cushioned from it. God, the Lord had saved me even though I didn’t heed his voice.
For this mercy, I give thanks to the Lord who had been my Savior that day. Fearing repercussions, I didn’t say a word to my parents about what had happened. It was only much later in life that I was able to share this story with close friends and family.
Island in the Sun
It was a Friday after-noon, I had completed my work assignments and was doodling on a piece of paper by 2.00 pm. A superior noticed my state of inertia, but I wasn’t bothered by his attention as I was looking forward to a trip with friends to an island that evening.
We left for our destination after dinner, it took an eight-hour drive before reaching our port of call in the early morning of Saturday, where a rickety fishing boat had been waiting to take the eleven of us, six ladies and five guys to the island.
Three hours into the journey, the island came into view and as the boat chugged closer to it, I couldn’t help but be awe struck by the sight before me. It was fringed by the most crystal-clear waters that I had ever laid eyes on. Darker blue waters gradually turned lighter as it reached the shores of the island. The light blue waters by the shore shimmered very much like a sparkling clean swimming pool on a clear hot day, invitingly.
The captain offloaded all of us and our gear with a promise to get back in seven days. Reflections from the blinding white sand temporarily obscured our vision, but by squinting our eyes we were able to make out the rest of the beach that would be our home for the week.
We set up camp at the end of the beach very close to a fresh water source. Earlier campers had put up a hose which ran from a stream up some boulders that provided fresh water for bathing and cooking.
We had the whole beach to ourselves.
Mass tourism had yet to arrive on the island in the mid-1980’s and it was pristine. Days were spent frolicking on the beach and in its clear blue warm waters. We also hired a local fishing vessel that took us to a different part of the island where coral beds were endemic and flourished in dazzling array; healthy hard and soft corals as far as the snorkels could see were everywhere. There was an explosion of color from the variety of living and lush coral; with coral fish, large green and purple giant clams and turtles, appearing as just mere distractions, to the breathtaking coral beds.
Even now, after seeing video downloads of snorkeling trips to the Raja Ampat islands from You Tube, these seemed a pale comparison to what were the true delights of the island back in 1986, before the arrival of mass tourism and the devastating coral bleaching of the 1990’s.
I did go back to the island around 2005, although the waters were somewhat crystal clear, the coral beds were literally, a shell of their pristine past.
At night, with the aid of our torchlights we would head up the rocks to where there was a clearwater stream to hunt for crayfish. It was pitch dark without light from our torches, but by shining onto the stream bed, we could make out the two red dots that were the eyes of the crayfish. These were a fresh and sumptuous supplement to our camping food. It was an idyllic getaway island but there was also a sinister side to it, which I would soon discover.
During one of these evenings, I followed my friends out to sea as they were spear-fishing for fresh food. I wore snorkels but didn’t have flippers on. We were about 70 meters from shore as I observed from the water surface. Suddenly, the sea conditions took a turn for the worse and the waves became choppy. I decided to turn back but struggled with the waves.
Again, I heard a voice say, “Pray to God for help!”
Although it was 20 odd years since I heard that voice, it was a familiar tone and I recognized it immediately. Once more, as was the case with my childhood encounter, I didn’t obey the voice.
Being confident of my own swimming abilities, I decided to head back to shore on my own. Without flippers on, I snapped on my heels with the hardest kicks and sturdiest of strokes to reach shore, only to realize I wasn’t budging an inch. To make matters worse, water started entering the snorkels making it difficult to breathe.
I was fast getting exhausted and in desperation I cried out, “God, please help me!”, the exact words.
Immediately after saying this prayer, I managed to make headway and water too had stopped entering the snorkels. Though I was drained from the earlier struggles, the Lord had somehow strengthened me to reach shore.
I felt total relief when my toes first touched sand underfoot. Bobbing in the water and keeping my nose up for air, I pulled myself slowly against shallower and shallower waters until I was able to wade to the beach whereupon, I collapsed in total exhaustion.
That night I saw a dark figure lurking at the camp site.
Later, I learnt that another group of campers had also made a trip to the island, a week after ours. When this group reached the island, one of the campers who was so captivated by the shimmering clear waters, decided to dive into the sea from the boat. Sadly, he never made it out alive.
From later conversations with a mutual friend, I found out that he was an acquaintance, who was of the same age as me.
Once again, God had spared my life that day.
The Revelation and the Word from the Lord
On the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood up and cried out, saying, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me, and drink. He that believes on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water”. (But this spoke he of the Spirit, which they that believe on him should receive: for the Holy Ghost was not yet given, because that Jesus was not yet glorified.) John 7: 37-39, King James Version.
I am quoting from the KJV, because I believe it best encapsulates the meaning of rivers of living waters, which was exactly how I felt when I received the living water experience. I will expand on this in relation to my experience and with scripture, in another section.
I was back in my hometown attending training. There was nothing remarkable about the training as there was nothing to take away from it. For participants, it appeared that the company had decided to reward all of us with six-star accommodation and great food for four nights, obviously without any complains whatsoever, from all.
During one of the breaks and while getting out of the training room, I suddenly stopped in my tracks as the Lord revealed how he had caused me to experience the same thing as mentioned in the Book of John, which is that of the Rivers of Living Water.
These verses had been known to me throughout my Christian life but had little significance and understanding, until that revelation. The Lord caused me to realize that it was related to an experience I had much earlier, in the early days of my Christian walk.
The Early Christian Year
I was 22 years old, and after a very anointed prayer session with Samuel and a few other Christian brothers, I was walking home with him.
(By the way, before you get any notions that I must’ve been a prayer warrior, let me state that that session was the only one I had with them, which was also among the very few prayer sessions that I’ve ever had, throughout my Christian life)
The Lord had during this prayer meeting caused me to see a vision: I saw the Holy Spirit in the form of a fiery winged bird fall on a mountain in the dark of the night. This mountain in historical times was known as the mountain of gold. Speaking of visions, there were two others which the Lord had shown me and all these three, were somehow connected and pertain to the end time purposes of God. However, these missives are not about those visions.
There seemed a special anointing during the session, and I was still drenched in the spirit as l walked back with Samuel while he rode his bike slowly, in keeping with my pace. He had also felt the anointing of the Lord earlier, and in that moment of being soaked in the spirit, he said: “You know what? I’d like to dedicate my life to the Lord in ministry!”, a wish he did fulfil a few years later. He then asked me how I felt.
At that instance, my immediate heartfelt response was that ‘it would be an honor to die for the Lord’. I told him exactly how I felt then, which is: “It would be an honor to be a martyr for God”. I meant it when I said those words then.
We parted ways as Samuel reached his home first, the air was still as I walked home in quiet solitude. It was probably about 9.30 pm and back then, there was little traffic on the roads. About 200 meters from home, I felt a bubbling sensation that began to build in my tummy. It was like I had drunk some fizzy drink quickly and the gas was exploding in my stomach but in a very pleasant, soothing and measured way.
Moments later, this sensation began to increase in intensity and bubble upwards and suddenly a great peace enveloped me, such that is hard to describe in words. It was way beyond what I had ever experienced in my life, as the overwhelming peace was somewhat, otherworldly too. And then, while I was reveling in this sensation, an immense joy started to explode from within.
For those who’ve experienced a runner’s high, imagine a euphoria that’s many times more intense than that elation. It was also both a physical and spiritual feeling.
Those who have had this same spiritual experience will know what I’m talking about. There was a peace so deep and a joy so wonderful that I felt like running and raising my hands in praise of the Lord. The whole experience was such that I thought, “All the money in the world or the riches of the world could not be exchanged for it”.
It was then that I had a deep and profound knowing that if I had died there and then, I would make it to heaven. To put it in perspective, I was not just very certain or 99% confident that I was saved, the Lord had given me 100% surety and understanding that my name had been recorded in His Book of Life. Such was the knowledge that the Holy Spirit had given me at that instant.
This deep peace and joy remained as I reached home and as I sat quietly, contemplating the experience earlier. While I wanted the peace and joy to last through the night, the anointing was somehow energy sapping. As the night wore on, I readied myself for bed but somehow knew that the peace and joy would leave, when I woke up the next day.
I had the most blissful sleep of my life that night.
Now, I’m not making all of this up nor am I embellishing the experience! Please be assured that what I’ve just shared has been experienced by many other Christians too.
In fact, I know of three other Christian brothers who have had the “Rivers of Living Water” baptism, which is the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Right now, there are probably tens of thousands of Christians who have had these same experiences and I will not be surprised if there are more. For it’s the work of the Lord.
This blog is meant to reach out to believers so that you may know that this is the Born-Again experience as spoken of by Jesus. Bear with me as I will explain this truth in greater detail in a later section.
It was after 36 years and a training break at a hotel resort later, that the Lord revealed the scriptural significance of what had happened to me on that fateful night. This precious Joy of Salvation from the Holy Spirit is also the hidden treasure spoken of in scripture in both the Old and New testaments.
The Lord then put it in my heart to write about it.
The Third Time
Two years later, it was the year I was supposed to retire. It was my birthday and I was contemplating the turn of events of that day. The little nest egg that was expected to provide part of my retirement care had vanished in smoke. In short, it was smoke and mirrors of the corporate kind, and my investments in a company had become worthless.
As I headed out for a smoke, (Yes, one of my dirty little habits) the Lord spoke once again, “Do you depend on Me or on the works of your hands!” It was the same voice and tone that was familiar to me from the earlier encounters, and the Lord also reminded me that what I had set out to do two-years earlier, I should get going to prepare and write about it.
Lastly, let me emphasize the significance of receiving this salvation experience or the Rivers of Living Water. For indeed, no money in the whole world can be exchanged for it, this is a certain realization for all who have been blessed by the Lord and the Lord has offered it freely to His people.
I believe that the prophecies of the prophet Joel in the old texts will be fulfilled in my lifetime, and therefore, am greatly encouraged and hopeful for the end time harvest of souls, as the Lord fulfills scripture from Joel 2:28 and Acts 2:17:
And it shall come to pass in the last days, says God, That I will pour out My Spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions, your old men shall dream dreams.
In these last days, He will certainly pour out His Spirit on all flesh. This is the time like no other in the history of man, when the Holy Spirit will bless His people. The purpose of my writing is to point out this glorious event and its significance as prophesied and recorded in the Old Testament, while in the New Testament, Jesus spoke of a time for the harvest of souls (Matthew 13: 47-50).
This end-time harvest of souls will be the work of God Himself and His angels and not through the work of any man.
