It Sounds Like God To Me

© Copyright 2007 by Phil Scovell - All Rights Reserved


                         Hitting The Nail On The Head

                                    By Phil Scovell

          Due  to a recent  embarrassing memory that  came to mind,  I have
     allowed other such memories to surface to see if something needs to be
          One such memory had to  do with the first  day at the school  for
     the blind.  I was 12 years old and had only been blind for a couple of
     weeks  when I  began attending  the school for  the blind  in Nebraska
     where I lived at that time.
          One of my classes that first day, was an hour of shop.  I was the
     only student  because it was  the final class  of the day  and all the
     other boys were in gym class.  The shop teacher, a very  kind man, who
     I became very  quickly fond of  due to his  humorous nature, took  his
     time to show me around the shop.
          I remember one  specific experience that  embarrassed me a  great
     deal.    I   have  always  tried  dismissing  this   memory,  and  its
     uncomfortable  feeling,  because  I  thought   the  focus  was  on  my
     embarrassment.   It wasn't.   It  was, I  know now,  on my  blindness.
     Here's what happened.
          As the  shop teacher showed  me around  the large  shop room,  he
     allowed me to feel each of the large  and small power tools.  Stopping
     at  a plays  where several tools  were hanging, he  described the tool
     cabinet and then he placed one of my hands on the handle of a tool and
     asked  me if  I knew what  it was.   His hand  was covering  mine so I
     couldn't  move my  hand to  touch the  other end of  the tool.   There
     wasn't a tool in the shop I  hadn't seen before going blind because my
     dad was a good carpenter and  we had everything a builder could  think
     of in our tool  shed.  I was familiar with them all  and used most all
     of them at  one time or  another except for our  table saw.   Since he
     held my hand  against the tool  handle, I said  nothing at first.   He
     said, "I'm  sorry."  That confused me.  If  he would have let me touch
     the rest of the tool, I could have easily told him what  it was.  Yet,
     he kept his  hand over mind which prevented me from examining the hand
     tool  for myself.  "I'm sorry,"  he said again as  I hesitated.  Now I
     felt stupid because  it felt as if he thought I  should know this tool
     without hesitation.  I know now he meant nothing of the kind.  Finally
     I just guessed  and asked if it  was a hatchet.   He again said,  "I'm
     sorry, I'm sorry.  It's a hammer."  Now I felt even worse.
          I wanted to  scream, "I know what  a hammer was but  you wouldn't
     let me feel it."
          For years, I  ignored, and otherwise pushed away,  this memory as
     just being part of life; blind life  but life nonetheless.  After all,
     I had just  lost my sight after  six months and more than  a dozen eye
     operations.  I had  just left home for basically the  first time in my
     life and was  in a horrible place  that I did not  want to be.   I was
     homesick and felt as if I were dying inside.
          When the  Lord recently brought  renewal into my life  related to
     another situation of embarrassment relating to my blindness, I thought
     I  should stop and look at  this childhood memory of embarrassment and
     see if the Lord had anything to say to me about it.  He did.
          As  I focused  on  the  memory, the  embarrassment  of not  being
     allowed to identify the hammer for what  it was, triggered a boat load
     of confusing and painful thoughts.   The homesickness, the loneliness,
     the hopelessness, the recent blindness, and everything that went along
     with  it, in my childhood  memories which occurred  more than 40 years
     ago,  suddenly surfaced.  As I looked into  the memory and felt all it
     contained, I suddenly  saw Jesus standing about 10 feet  away in front
     of  the  shop fire  doors that  led  to the  outside.   I  had totally
     forgotten those doors  even existed until I saw  Jesus standing there.
     Nothing  was said audibly  but I felt  the words coming  from the True
     Lord Jesus as surely as if  He had spoken them aloud.  He  was saying,
     "I was  there, even  though you  didn't see  me, and  you did  nothing
     wrong.  I know, that you knew, it was a hammer."  Now, every time that
     memory pops  up in  my thoughts,  I see  Jesus standing  close by  and
     making sure I know He is there.
          Is Jesus there for you?  Does He stand in the places that hurt or
     that are fearful or that are sad?  Yes, He can renew your mind so that
     even such childhood embarrassing moments can be healed of pain.  Jesus
     can fill your  life because He is  the Alpha and Omega; the  First and
     the Last of your life.