A Five Second Blast Of God
By Phil Scovell
Our home was built in 1950 and we purchased it from, not only the
original owner, but he built the house personally. The kitchen isn't
all that large so we have never had a built-in dishwasher. Over the
years, therefore, we have used a portable unit instead.
Due to the limited space of the kitchen, the dishwasher, when not
in use, is rolled back away from the sink into its corner. The
cutting board surface of the portable dishwasher provides a perfect
place for our microwave to sit. Of course, this means unplugging the
microwave every time we use the dishwasher because it, the dishwasher,
has to be rolled over to the other side of the kitchen, the hoses
hooked to the water faucet, and the electrical cord plugged in.
I am generally the first person up in the morning and since my
wife works late, she often connects the dishwasher up and let's it run
throughout the night. So, I normally am the one who disconnects
everything and rolls it back into its corner.
When our children were teenagers, they would often discover, upon
attempting to heat something up for a snack, that old dad had failed
to plug in the microwave. My wife was generally the first to discover
this, and after being reminded more than a few times, I began making
certain the microwave, after rolling the dishwasher back, was
connected to the wall socket. Well, most of the time.
Recently, I awakened early, half stumbled out to the kitchen, and
discovered, by running into it, the dishwasher sitting in front of the
kitchen sink. I had gone to bed before my wife had gotten off work
that night so I was unaware the dishwasher had been hooked up.
Unhooking everything, I rolled the dishwasher back into its corner,
found the plug for the microwave, and as I was trying to plug it back
into the wall socket, I heard my thoughts say, "I better plug this in
or Everett will accuse me of not doing my part." I laughed to myself
and wondered just how I could think such a thing. After all, our
children were grown, raising their own children now, and plugging in
their own microwaves. Then I emotionally felt the woundedness
associated with this memory surface in my mind.
Twelve years earlier, my son, Everett, who was only 15 years of
age at the time, had made a comment at the dinner table one night that
"Dad never plugs in the microwave." I tried defending myself because
for many months, at that point, I had been plugging it in all the
time; he just was unaware of it. He insisted I still didn't plug it
in; not ever. At the time, I knew something hurt me inside due to his
words but I had no idea, until recently, it was important to my
relationship with the Lord.
As I said, this memory flashed into my sleepy mind as I fumbled
for the microwave cord and the plug on the end of the wire as I
attempted to insert it into the wall socket. This time, however, I
felt the small tiny woundedness that came with the twelve year old
My thoughts, at speeds faster than light, flashed into prayer.
"Lord, I feel a faint twinge of woundedness. What is this all about?"
I asked within my thoughts.
"How did you feel when Everett said what he did to you?" the Holy
I looked into the memory in my mind for a second and instantly
saw it. "I felt like I was being told that I wasn't doing my part," I
told the Lord in my mind.
"And how does that make you feel?" the Lord asked.
"I feel like I am not living up to the standards."
"Whose standards?" I heard the Holy Spirit ask.
I thought for a second and said, "My dads. "But," I quickly
protested, "dad has been dead for almost 45 years. How could I be
trying to live up to his standards? He's dead."
Of course, we can attempt to live up to anybody's standards
regardless of how long they have been dead. In this case, that
awareness illuminated my thoughts at the very moment I said it in my
mind. On the other hand, and just as instantaneously, I knew the
answer; was living up to the Lord's standards. "But Lord," I
protested yet again, "I can't do any better attempting to live up to
your standards than I did my own dad's."
"That's right," he replied in my thoughts. "No one can ever live
up to my standards, so I did it for you on the cross and proved what I
did for you by my resurrection. There is nothing you can do,
therefore, to prove to me that you are living up to my standards;
This thought blew me away because I felt the Scriptural impact
and the theological confirmation of these words in my spirit where the
Holy Spirit dwells. I knew this was true Lordship.
"But," I thought; puzzled, "what do I do then?" already aware of
I felt His smile when He said into my thoughts, "Just walk with
Although I thought about this experience for many hours over
several weeks, the entire event, of which you just read, only took
five seconds in my mind. In short, it came by instantaneous
impression; I put the words to what you just read. It was prayer in
its most spiritually intimate form, that is, exchanging our thoughts
We are often fooled into thinking, deceived into thinking is a
better way of stating it, that forgiveness, anger, resentment,
animosity, or even the secularistic logic that is, "They deserved it
so why should I forgive them," is justifiable, and the feelings we
carry are acceptable because, after all, "They were wrong and they
hurt me deeply." Then, too, we always fall for that devilish and
demonic lie, "When they are dead, I won't have to worry about it any
longer," only to find out, after they die, the pain is still deeply
rooted. Why? Because, a lie is implanted within the memory event
itself. In my testimony you just read, the Holy Spirit used a simple,
insignificant experience contained within a memory, to reveal His
truth to me; I don't have to live up to anybody's standards because
Jesus is my Elder Brother. I wonder how many opportunities you are
going to allow to slip by which are points of spiritual intimacy Jesus
wants to share with you.
End Of Document
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