How did he know it was God?

… An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. "Get up," he said, "take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him." So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt. (Matthew 2:13-14)

It looks so easy. Joseph falls asleep one night, has a dream and hears God telling him to leave… Yes that’s right, pack up the manger, wrap up the newborn and take your wife on another long donkey ride to a land on the other side of the desert.

So next morning he gets up, tells Mary over breakfast and heads off to Egypt... Just like that.

Easy. Joseph hears from God and catastrophe is averted. Because of this little episode, our Christmas cards show Jesus alive in Mary’s arms and we sing songs heralding his birth. Christmas pans out the way it was supposed to.

But here’s a simple question. How did Joseph know the dream was from God? How did he know it wasn’t just something sparked by his vivid imagination as he slept; a crazy apparition brought on by the stench of strange animals at his bedside… a paranoid idea because of the spicy lentils he ate the night before? There were no logical reasons for the radical departure; no tangible signs indicating danger. Yet Joseph confidently follows this strange voice of the night and baby Jesus escapes the murderous hand of King Herod.

Would it be that easy?

Have you ever heard one of those stories about someone who thought they heard from God, but they actually didn’t? Then there is all the damage and fallout from that. Or perhaps you’ve been one of them! You’ve thought you heard from God, you’ve made steps of faith and then the circumstances backfire. How do we know if we are hearing from God or not?

It’s comforting to know that this is not a new question. The ancients themselves had the same problem and the good news is that God anticipated we would ask it: You may say to yourselves, ‘How can we know when a message has not been spoken by the Lord?’ (Deuteronomy 18:21)

God has answers for our concern. His promise that we will be able to recognise his voice… Like sheep who know the voice of their shepherd, we can discern his voice and follow it. Listen to Signed, Sealed and Delivered on the CD Series: “God’s Curtain Calls” to find out more. You can purchase it here. A great Christmas idea!

The Dreamers of Christmas

It was late in the afternoon when they arrived at the outskirts of the crowded city. Their sandaled feet were dusty and swollen from long days walking through an endless wilderness. The young couple glanced about searching for a place to enquire for lodging. Unfamiliar sounds and foreign tongues added to their disorientation. A restless baby cried hungry for milk while his mother rummaged through their hastily packed belongings. The anxious expression on their weary faces hinted at their concerns: How long would they be here for? When would they return to their homeland?

I imagine the small talk as the weary travelers were introduced:
           “Greetings! You’ve come a long way. Where are you from?”
           “From our home in the land of Israel.”

           “Whose family are you of?”

           “The tribe of Judah.”
           “And what brings you here to Egypt?”

Have you ever wondered about the locals’ reaction to Mary and Joseph’s story? One mysterious dream led them to completely relocate to a foreign country. In the Greco-Roman world of the first century, it wasn’t unusual for gods to speak in dreams. This was nothing particularly out of the ordinary.

Like Mary and Joseph, it was a God-dream that led me to move to an unknown city some years ago. At the time I found it exciting. God was speaking so clearly and specifically! But when I began to share my story with others, eyebrows were raised and brows furrowed with concern. I realized I had been quickly labeled; placed in that box where all fringy mystical types go…

So I stopped telling people the real reason why I was moving. They didn’t seem to get it.

God-given dreams are found all the way through the Christmas story. The gospel writer Matthew records five of them. Apart from a dream, the baby Jesus would have been murdered! In fact, some of the most pivotal moments in biblical history began in the middle of the night while someone was sleeping.

So why the negative response to a contemporary parallel of Mary and Joseph’s experience? Why the gap between a beloved biblical story and our own spiritual reality?


A look back over our shoulder tells us why. At one time in history hearing from God through dreams was the norm. The prophets of the Old Testament heard from God through dreams regularly. The early church valued them for direction and revelation and the early church fathers all wrote of their dream experiences.

Then came the Enlightenment. A new emphasis on intellectual rationalism led church leaders to relegate dreams and visions to the archives of library shelves. Translators even left out references to dreams and visions made by the early church fathers in their English editions!

To our modern Western ears, talk of dreamers and dream interpreters seems to fall perilously close to New Age practises. But our fear of being deceived or getting it wrong has led us to abandon one of the most popular forms of God’s communication. In fact the ability to hear from God through dreams and visions is one of the key distinctives of the new covenant (Acts 2:17)!

There is no doubt hearing from God through dreams has its risks. But God has given us his Word, the Holy Spirit and his church as safety nets for us. With the right tests and accountability, we can experience the transforming and powerful dynamic of hearing God’s voice speaking into the very details of our lives through dreams. This is our inheritance as new covenant Christians. Are you ready to hear from him? Be ready for him to surprise you with his creative messages of the night!

Your Two Stories

There are two stories being written over our lives. The story everyone sees and the story only you and God see.

The story that everyone sees is the one that is written on bios and resumes. It’s the one we tell at parties and interviews. She planted a church, worked in missions, has a Masters level qualification, speaks in churches around the world…

But there is another story. One that is equally dramatic, but far more hidden. One that is rarely told on stages or recorded on public memos. One that is usually only whispered in quiet moments, revealed in tucked away café corners and sometimes never told even to ourselves.

Yet it is the one that matters most.

It’s the story of our dreams, our fears and our unspoken struggles. The internal journey of our thoughts and prayers. A plot line that is often more difficult to write, but which defines who we are and all that we do. If we ignore it, it will soon write its own story… and ultimately it will be the story that everybody else sees.

It was the story beneath Joseph’s life that really mattered. His rollercoaster ride of failure and promotion from slave to Prime Minister would make headlines, but it was the internal drama of faith and loyalty that wrote the final climax.

The successes of Abraham’s life may be loudly acclaimed around the world, but it was the long painful tale of five altars atop a lonely mountain that would produce them.

I may have made some significant achievements in my life, but it has been the God-moments of revelation and conviction with God that have defined them.

What story are you writing today? Are you more concerned with the outer story of achievement and performance and image? The outer story can masquerade and embellish, but the inner one never can. The inner story always tells the truth and will pen the final story in the end.

Let’s be people that give more attention to our inner story. This is the one that is of greatest concern to God and it is the only one that matters.

 Three Inner Story Questions to Ask Yourself:

1. What area of my life do I need to be honest with myself right now?
2. What is God speaking to me about?
3. What accountability partners am I able to entrust my inner story to?

Counsel of the Night

The M2 motorway was its usual frantic pace that morning… Cars backed up like dominos too closely together. Drivers with dead-pan faces staring at the bumper bar in front of them. I smiled at the queues, feeling slight twinges of guilt at my smugness as I sped freely in the opposite direction. It was a 45 minute trip from inner Sydney to the outer western suburbs but I didn't mind. Driving to work gave me time to prepare myself for the day. It was the beginning of a new year and I had much to think about.

Your job is about to change. I said it to myself over and over, processing it like a slow eater trying to savour the food before swallowing it. I had been working as the Academic Dean at a ministry training college for nearly four years. Weekly lectures, course design, assessment standards and myriads of paperwork consumed my days. It was hard to imagine anything different. The race had been on to keep up with the burgeoning student numbers and I had loved the challenge. But lately things were settling around me and I could feel the itch of change.

My mind replayed the short but vivid dream I had just after Christmas. I had seen myself travelling on a train. I had fallen asleep and when I woke up, I was on a bus. We had changed vehicles.

I knew the dream was from God. It had that clarity and distinctiveness peculiar to God-given dreams. Vehicles move you along; they help you progress and often represent careers or ministries in dreams. There was a change from a train to a bus. Realisation dawned in the light of the morning. My job was about to change.

The Ultimate Counsellor
Some days it feels like we are the proud masters of our destiny. We take out insurance policies, invest in superannuation and carefully research our decisions in order to control risk and protect ourselves. But the next day we are struck by the woeful limitations of our humanity. In an instant our job changes, a relationship fractures or the stockmarket plummets, and we are struck again by the extraordinary unpredictability of our lives.

God stands outside of universes and timezones yet he is able to zoom in on our own private worlds with all its odd frustrations and struggles. He knows what will be, what cannot be and what needs to be. He sees the end from the beginning (Isaiah 46:10) – our yesterdays and tomorrows, yet somehow in the deep vaults of his knowledge, he knows the quirkiness of my personality, the hidden longings of my heart and the number of hairs on my head (Luke 12:7).

In the midst of unpredictability, God longs to speak into our situations with a voice of constancy and wisdom. The Holy Spirit is described as a counselor (John 16:7). Like the scene depicted in the ancient Garden, he wants to walk alongside us and talk to us in the cool of our days (Genesis 3:8). He is like a best friend, yet so different to your best friend. One word from God can instantly bring clarity and calm to any situation.

Perhaps we underestimate how much he cares about our problems – so large in our eyes, so minute in his. Is that why we don’t always invite him in? The letter of James says we don’t have wisdom because we doubt he will give it (James 1:5-7).

God is concerned with the intimate details of our lives. He loves us that much. We just need to ask. And when we have asked, we need to listen for his answer. He speaks in surprising ways.

The Vehicle Changes
It took little time to find a car-park that morning; most staff were still on holidays. In my office were remnants of the previous year; a few stray assignments, old timetables and forms. I checked my diary. College was out for two more weeks. I loved this time of the year: plenty of time for catch-up coffees and planning. My day was a quiet one: meeting-free apart from an appointment with my boss at 4pm.

Later that day my boss and I met in his office. We sat at his oval desk and chatted about the holidays. Eventually the conversation turned to plans for the New Year. As part of our ongoing development, we were restructuring the College. Then the announcement: My job needed to change. I listened silently, looking into my coffee cup; finally digesting the information that I had been chewing on the previous few days. We discussed a few details and eventually he stood, signalling the meeting was over. He looked into the air for a moment and then made his concluding statement; “You know; it's like we're been on a train, but now we've changed vehicles!”

My job change was effected immediately and marked the beginning of a larger shift for my ministry. But through all the transition and upheaval that followed, there was no doubt that God's hand was guiding and directing my life. His voice had prepared me with peace and understanding no earthly counsellor could give.

But which of them has stood in the council of the Lord to see or hear his word?

(Jeremiah 23:18)

Home of My Dreams

A Miracle Home
There is a story I love to tell. It began in the middle of the night a few years ago. In a dream I saw myself being shown around a grand and spacious house. The scenes were vivid – a wide entrance hallway lined with shiny marble tiles, imposing white columns and classy French windows… I didn’t realize it at first, but God was showing me my new home.

A month later that strange vision spectacularly and unexpectedly manifested into reality. I was being shown around a home and it was just as I had seen – better still, it came with a gardener, ‘pool boy’; even a red Ferrari in the garage! No, I wasn’t able to drive the Ferrari, but I could live there rent-free; all expenses paid for over a year while the owners were overseas on business. I moved in immediately breathless with gratitude.

In the early mornings I would sit at the breakfast table coffee in hand, gazing out the window to the swimming pool and tennis court. With worship music playing loudly, I would ponder the God who fulfils the desires of our hearts (Psalm 37:4). I would marvel in awe at his miraculous provision and relish the sense of being loved by a father who delights in giving his children good gifts (Matthew 7:11).

In fact I would often quote those Bible verses when sharing the story with others. People loved hearing it.

But there is another story. Not one I have told as frequently and perhaps not with the same captive audience. A similar story yet different.

Another Dream Home
It happened a few years later. Our rented home was being sold and my flat-mate was moving interstate. Once again I found myself uprooted and disoriented with those familiar feelings of insecurity returning like an unwanted guest. Not only that, it was right in the midst of an overcrowded rental market and my income was unreliable and tenuous. How would I find a home?

I shared my dilemma with a friend over and she kindly offered me a place to stay for a few weeks. I was thankful for the safety valve while I looked for somewhere to live. Where would it be? Trudy lived on the edge of notorious Kings Cross where the streets are crowded with a gritty, noisy mix of the homeless and trendy and where every night is party night. Far from the quiet leafy upper-class suburbs I was used to on the other side of ‘The Bridge’.

After our coffee together at a local café we wandered through her flat. Her home was a typical inner Sydney terrace; one of many squeezed tightly between rows of seventies apartment blocks and quaint art-deco buildings. It was simply furnished with a compact kitchen and single bathroom coming off a long dark hallway. Through the kitchen at the back of the house was a small room used as a study area.

It was the back room that caught my eye. I stopped; struck by a vague memory. As I looked at the tiny alcove with its brown laminate cabinet and uncluttered bookshelf, familiar images from another dream crystallized before me.

I hurried home to check the words which had been carefully transcribed in my journal over twelve months earlier: “I saw you living in a tiny room like an alcove opening onto a kitchen. It had a plain wooden bookshelf. Like a student’s room.”

But this home was so different to the other one. Could this be from God?

It was pouring rain the day I moved in. I edged my car into a tight spot in the darkened alleyway careful not to disturb the woman crouched over on the edge of the gutter. A flurry of cooing pigeons landed in the tree above and released a spray of white and yellow liquid that narrowly missed me as I emerged from my newly polished car. The lady in the gutter barely looked up as I struggled to cradle the pile of cardboard boxes in my arm; my jewelled sandals slipping on the slimy concrete.

That night as I settled onto the thin foam mattress which almost covered the entire floor of the study, I tried to force the image of my old bedroom with its queen size bed and expansive built-in robes from my mind. My clothes now hung on a plastic wheelie rack in the corner; the rest stashed in boxes over three locations in Sydney. I tried not to think of the tranquil view of Middle Harbour from the balcony where we sat the night before or the white marble double bathroom that I once had all to my own. And when I woke up next morning to the raw screeching of a domestic argument echoing through the back laneway, I tried to forget the sweet twitter of birds that used to signal my mornings.

The God of Mansions and Mattresses
God does not always give us what we want. Have you ever noticed that? The God of Good Gifts sometimes allows long periods of unemployment, extended times of loneliness; worrying financial pressures and seasons of mattresses on the floor. Times when the luxuries of life are more of a memory than a reality.

Through his high and lows, the Apostle Paul learned a great truth. He called it a secret; a life transforming principle that enabled him to be content with both abundance and shortage.

Paul learned that God provides all our needs and gives strength in every situation, whether we have much or whether we have little (Phil. 4:13,19). It is in the midst of want, we learn the secret that he is all we need. We learn the grace and discipline of thankfulness that comes from him alone. We learn to trust in a Father who loves us consistently and completely whether he gives us gifts or not. He is the God who provides both mansions and mattresses on the floor.

I love the fact that Paul learned… Perhaps it took a few experiences and a bit of time to fully grasp this great truth.

Nowadays I have come to appreciate my new home and the raw edginess of city-life; I’ve become accustomed to wearing earplugs each night and have found a place to park my car where frangipani flowers rather than pigeon droppings fall. But mostly I am learning the great secret of contentment. His provision is always sufficient even when it comes packaged in unusual ways. Whether in places of grandeur or simplicity, He is all we need.

Into the Fear Zone

The bags were stuffed full ready for an obscene five o’clock start next morning. I fidgeted with the zip, checked and re-checked my list. I was nervous. Six days of hiking with a 15kg pack in the wilds of Kosciusko National Park. It had been nearly 20 years since I had braved the camping scene. Would I be able to cope without my Blackberry and coffee-maker? What if my lower back gave way in front of everyone? Most importantly, could I handle squatting behind the gumtrees?

You know it well. The dubious feeling in your stomach; the disastrous scenarios created in your mind… that overwhelming pull to be anywhere else but where you’re supposed to be. Whether it’s starting a new job, learning a new skill or just embarking on a hiking trip into the Australian bush, our fears have the uncanny power to pull us out at the last minute with a rush of magical excuses. How much easier it is to stay in your ‘zone’ – the place where moments are predictable and there are no what ifs.

New experiences have an irresistible air of excitement to them. But they also strip you of the familiar and expose you again to the raw material of who you are. Without the security of your known abilities, your tried and tested roles or the comfortable rhythm of your regular environment, you are forced to find yourself again.

When We Step Out
One component of my ministry is to teach seminars on how to hear God’s voice. I love my job – and to be honest, I don’t find it difficult. I have been in fulltime ministry for fifteen years and the church-world is second nature to me. I think and speak Christianese fluently. I know the worship songs word for word. I can kick into the lingo of all the different denominations in a flash.

But recently I decided to take my seminar into the secular world. In a way it was an experiment. Increasingly people are seeking God outside the confines of traditional church. Could I help them find Him in a local community college?

I haven’t been that scared in a long time. Facing that motley group of spiritual seekers was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Would the trainee psychologist who had an answer for everything show me up with his font of knowledge? Would the ex-Mormon who mythologised the supernatural and was well versed in the liberal theology of Bishop Spong ask me a question I couldn’t answer? Or the lapsed-Catholic who now attended a spiritualist church challenge me with experiences I couldn’t explain?

Too late now. I was forced to plunge straight into it; to ignore my fears and do it anyway. Trust God and do it afraid. I was on my toes the whole day and arrived home totally spent.

That experience no longer scares me now. I discovered I could do it. In the midst of it I worked out what to say and if I didn’t know what to say, it didn’t matter. And when the grey-haired lady in the purple and blue silk dress who had played organ as a young woman but had left church disillusioned twenty years earlier commented afterwards; “Now I realise God is alive after all”, my original fears seemed irrelevant and not worthy of any recognition at all.

God’s Call to the Unknown
Following God means we constantly find ourselves in the fear zone. The Holy Spirit seems to delight in leading us to places we have never gone before (Josh. 3:3,4). His knowledge of our innate potential causes him to urge, beckon and even push us beyond the boundaries of safety and into a position of trust. In the fear zone, we meet ourselves and God in a new way.

I think of my mum who bravely learnt to swim at age 63 when she couldn’t even put her head under water, a friend who left the airport terrified and trusting as she flew out to carve out a new market in India for her company, my trainee student who overcomes her shyness greeting new people in the church foyer every week. Confronting their fears and doing it anyway.

I am not sure the feelings ever go away. Growing in God means we will find ourselves in a never-ending cycle of facing fear and finding faith.

Out of the Fear Zone
It was the final morning of our hike. The tents were being rolled up for the last time. There was dirt deeply embedded under my fingernails and I had blood blisters on both my big toes. But during the 50 km trek, we had heard the brumbies gathering near our camp at moonlight, canoed in a sun shower on the lake and retraced history on the steps of the famous Hume-Hovell track. As I sat there in the misty dawn breakfasting by a cowpat and brushing away the bullants gathering at my feet, I realized how unafraid I was. A lot had happened in a week. I still craved a hot shower but the reward was overwhelmingly worth it.