recipes

God Is Messing With Me, Again

Feb 20, 2023 Admin

A couple weeks ago I had to go down the church at 6:30 AM to count plates for a dinner the following week, so I could rent more because Michael Hebb, the restauranteur-provocateur, was joining us to talk about love and relationships. His aim was to help us build understandings between the generations, as part of his national movement to combat ageism at every stage of life.

It’s been a LONG time since my last radio conversation with God, long enough so that I stopped expecting them, as I did when I was younger. So what happened was a surprise.

Driving down the hill, I turned on the radio and “In-a-gadda-da-vida” was playing. I wasn’t wild about the song when I was in high school, because I was more into classical and swing, not hard rock. But my brother played it all the time, so it’s a familiar tune, even if I never really focused on the lyrics before. There is something so visceral about the music. It feels like it arises out of the inner depths.

In a gadda da vida, honey
Don’t you know that I’m lovin’ you
In a gadda da vida, baby
Don’t you know that I’ll always be true

I listened briefly, then turned the radio off. A stunning, deep red sunrise was coming up, and I wanted to put my attention on that. I actually got on I-95 and drove away from the village into the sunrise. Breathtaking.

Then turning around and heading back to timeless Southport, I turned on the radio again. “What a Fool Believes” was playing. This was my favorite song during the Spring of my senior year in college. It made me so happy to hear it.

But what a fool believes he sees
No wise man has the power to reason away
What seems to be
Is always better than nothing
Than nothing at all

Crossing an overpass, the sunrise caught my attention again, so I turned the radio off as I drove to the church, wanting to absorb the space that I was traveling through. I remember thinking, “Well, if I don’t have time to meditate today, at least I’m sitting in the car surrounded by great beauty, visually, acoustically”.

For some reason, as I parked, I turned the radio on again. I can’t really explain that. It was time to get to down to business, but the tasks at hand, getting up at 4:45 to start working, and counting plates at 6:30 in the AM were so annoying that I must have subconsciously decided to delay for a minute. “It’s Been Hard Day’s Night” was on the radio.

It’s been a hard day’s night,
And I’ve been working like a dog,
It’s been a hard day’s night,
I should be sleeping like a log,
But when I get home to you,
I find the things that you do,
Will make me feel alright.

I totally related to the song…felt a little better that someone was listening to me bitch and moan about things. I turned the radio off, went inside the church and counted plates. I don’t know whether it was because I was so tired, or what was going on, but I couldn’t focus. I had to count and recount the damn plates. I would start, and then lose track of which stacks I had counted. Over and over again. A five minute task took 30 minutes. It was all so very strange. But I was in silence, and I love that.

Back outside, I got in the car, freezing my ass off. Again, the “I’m so tired of this” mantra started up. I turned on the radio, and yep, voila, another song. “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”

No, you can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometime you’ll find
You get what you need

That’s how God speaks to me. Always has, since I was a young boy. I’m utterly convinced that the reason this happens is that it’s the only way S/He can get my attention. Who needs meditation when you are being spoon fed?

Not a bad way to begin a long day. Iron Butterfly-Doobie Brothers-Beatles-Rolling Stones, I’m just saying.

So grateful.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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