Yesterday in church, a discussion about Naaman caused me to rethink my thoughts about my relationship with God. (I thought I’d just put that right out there at the front, in case you’re here looking for food. There’s no food here today.)

So. Naaman. He’s a great general and a good guy and a leper. One of his servants tells him he can be healed if he goes to see Elisha the prophet. He goes. And Elisha sends a servant to the door, who tells Naaman to have a bath in the river. Naaman is ticked, and his brave and loving servants ask him, “If you’d been told to do something huge, wouldn’t you do it?” (My quotes, not the Bible’s.)

In my congregation, we often talk about this story this way: when the answers are simple (like, go pray more and read more and serve more and do the work you’ve already been asked to do), we revolt, wishing for something that feels somehow More. Bigger. Important-er.

When I hear this story, I say, “Yeah, Naaman. I get you.” And for me, it’s got nothing to do with doing something big.

It has everything to do with who came to the door.

When I pray and beg and plead and gnash my teeth about something that I’m pretty sure God wants me to have anyway, I don’t want to be told to do something bigger or harder. No thank you. The point of my prayer is generally that I’m already doing something harder. No. Not bigger. I just want it to be personal.

I want Him to come to the door Himself. I want to feel heard.

Read the scriptures, I hear. And I respond. Yes. I’m doing that. And I’ve done it. So, so many times. I KNOW these books. It’s a simple thing. But here’s the un-simple part: When I actually do it right, read it with my heart open, I learn to speak God’s language. And when I speak to Him in His language, He answers me in MY language. When that happens, even when the answer is to go ahead and do one of those simple things, I feel more heard. And capable of carrying on. In the times that happens, it’s Enough.

So if I ask for help and my answer is pray more or serve more or go dunk in the river seven times, it’s my job to discover the Voice behind the answer. To find the connection that makes it personal. So I’ll be able, willing, capable of saying, “Okay. I can do that.”

That’s when the miracles happen.