Sometimes God talks to me through my iPod. I know, I know - this sounds rather ridiculous, partially insane, and completely reta... well, you get the picture. But, God and I are on the same page with this, and as long as that's true, I really don't care what people think. (Why blog it then?)
God used to talk to me through my CD Changer, I had one of those super-juiced up 500 disc Sony CD Changer Jukeboxes that had all the song titles and artist names programmed into the LCD. It was very, very cool. Friends would bring CDs and pop them in to one of the empty slots... and always forget that they were in there. I got a lot of CDs that way.
The first time I had my little sing along with God was after reading the back cover of "Conversations with God". There's paragraph on the cover that reads: "...Ask Me anything. Anything. I will contrive to bring you the answer. The whole universe will I use to do this. So be on the lookout; this book is far from My only tool. You may ask a question, then put this book down. But watch. Listen. The words to the next song you hear..."
So I tested the book. I tested God.
I closed my eyes and asked... not so much asked as supplicated... "Do you really talk through everything around me? How can I be sure? How can I know it's you and not some coincidence?"
And I hit "Shuffle" on the CD changer. And around and around she went. And I closed my eyes as if opening them meant I was cheating and could somehow change the course of what would come through the speakers if I went about it with open eyes. And the following words came through the speaker... words from a song that I clearly owned the CD of yet had never, ever heard.
"Let your soul be your pilot, let your soul guide you, it will guide you well."
I did it again and again since then. Not on a daily basis... things I need to hear come from everywhere and I don't really need to ask out loud or close my eyes. I don't need to beg the heavens to read me my life in a book. I don't need to watch my life in a movie.
This morning I needed some guidance, so I left my house and walked and walked and walked. I hit shuffle on the iPod, and had a nice chat with God. The chat ended and I was on Cortland in front of the Leopard Lounge. There's this rather cool building over there, across the street from that lounge, with a cool yard that in the summer and spring reminds me of Heaven. Or my version of Heaven I should say. I find myself there quite often. At least since I moved to Wicker Park.
The song that was playing was Separate Lives. God spoke. And the words meant even more when I realized how my soul had piloted me to my destination. I looked to my left and to my complete surprise saw the sign for The Bucktown Pub.