In England, sometime Mid November 2004, I remember having a conversation in room one (it’s a really original name for a room, I know) with some of my new found friends. To say I remember the whole conversation would be a stretch… but I do remember what I said. We were talking about who we thought God was. How He talked, what car He drove on the streets of gold. What kind of music He requested from the choir of angels that day. You know… the important stuff. I spoke up and told everyone in the room that I thought God drove a pink Cadillac… and listened to R&B. I said that He wore a three piece suit, was “clean cut,” and could break dance. My God makes “shout outs” on heavens radio station (HOLY 77.7) to his “peeps” Mother Theresa and Elijah. My God is “cool.” That is the kind of God I serve. The remark got a lot of laughs, and it was meant to be funny, but I was serious. That was my (interesting) view of God. My God was “down” with me.
God speaks to me as I speak to Him. He uses the “lingo” I use. I remember a prayer walk when I was in Korca, Albania where I believe, to this day, that God asked me “what’s up?” It was great! I had finally come to this place where I felt as if God met me where I was at. I didn’t have to speak the “lingo” of my pastor or my parents or even of my siblings… I could approach God right there and right then. I didn’t have to pretend as if I knew what to pray for or even how to pray. I could speak my heart… in my own way. (Do you feel the liberation?!)
