Sure, I interpret a few too literally for my own good. 1 Corinthians 4 and 5 stump me every time. How Paul claims in chapter 4 that, basically, no one but God can judge, and then in the very next chapter, he says, "I have already judged you even though I'm not there in person." The words in Chapter 4 make me feel awesome! I love how he makes it clear that Paul cannot even judge himself because he is just a man! Then, he claims to judge people in Corinth and hasn't even been there, he's only heard about what's going on. And, regardless of what's going on, HOW do you claim to judge when you just went into great detail about how no man can judge anyone! Only God judges.
My Road to Damascus? Glad you asked.
My Dad was near death from Agent Orange cancer. He was in a Hospice care at Johnston Willis Hospital in Richmond. This was October 1993. He was admitted on Sunday and died 1 week later, Sunday morning, Halloween.
Anyway, he was very weak, very ill the whole week. We thought he was dying the Sunday we called the ambulance at my folks' home in Hopewell. But, it was a fever and they got him settled. But he was still very weak and not very coherent. Then, Thursday afternoon, he told my mother (I later found out he had told her) "Tell everyone to come here. I need to talk with them all." Now, "everyone" was an immediate family of roughly 20-30 people that had been visiting on and off throughout the week, and the pastor of the church, who was his close friend now, same age, and had served in Vietnam, too. So, we all finally get there... From the moment the door closed, his entire presence became like he was perfectly healthy... in an instant. He had no indication or visible sign of any ailment whatsoever. His voice became strong and loud. He spoke to each of us individually about what he wanted us all to try to do with our lives, and how he appreciated everything we'd done, individually, for him. Then, he spoke to all of us, collectively, and his voice and speech pattern changed a bit. He said "I love you all. I want you all to know how much I care for each of you and even those of your families that aren't here, I love them. I love everyone, even those I've never seen. I want you to all to love each other and care for each other after I'm gone. But, I won't be gone. I will be here. I'm always here. I want to be able to come down 295 (the interstate through Prince George) and I want to see a glow around my church. I want you all to remember that I've told you these things, and remember this, and I want you all to enjoy your lives as much as you can and remember to care of one another. I thank all of you for coming here to see me and I wanted you all to know I love you." Now, I'm paraphrasing some of the statements, because this was 22 years ago and it was a really intense moment. And, he said more than just these things, but what i have written are what stuck with me. I can't say for sure what he told each person because when he spoke to each person individually, alone, I didn't hear them. I only know what he told me. I'd rather keep what he told me to myself. But, the most dramatic part of that experience was when he said things like "I want to see a glow around MY church." or "I want MY family to love each other and care for one another." Now, my father was a kind person, but he NEVER used references like "MY church" or "MY family." He was never so outwardly vocal with words of affection at all...never! It literally became like his body was just the voice for something else speaking. Everyone that saw it, knew it. His gestures were so obvious and he smiled and laughed. You'd have thought we were sitting at a family gathering somewhere. After everyone had left, he looked at me and he winked, and he said, three times, "Everything is gonna be alright now." And, then he closed his eyes, and his body went right back to the sick, dying state it had been when I got there. His attention span was barely there, he was quiet and barely present at all. And, just minutes before, he had been beyond lucid. He was emphatically lucid and loud. He was animated and articulate. You could feel it. Everyone shared glances with each other the whole time. But, when they left, he turned off almost like a light switch. He was asleep in about 5 or 10 minutes and rarely came to any kind of consciousness until he died the following Sunday morning.
The pastor pulled me aside before he left and said "Eddie, I've felt a strong presence of the Holy Spirit two times in my life... and now, it's three. We were Moses and he was the Burning Bush." It's a bit eerie, too, because all of us that were there had a unique shared experience that we can, and still do, reflect upon with each other.
I didn't go blind, but I was seeing and hearing for sure!