Language of the Spirit

The first car I owned was a little blue Simca with a 1.3 litre engine in the back. It was perfect for zipping around the streets of London. One evening at dusk I was doing just that. I was late for a church meeting of some kind, and was cutting across suburbia at exaggerated speed through a network of narrow streets. At one junction, I swung the car into a road lined on both sides with parked cars. As I accelerated along the space between them, I became conscious of very distinct, clearly audible words in my mind. I recognised the voice of my driving instructor. It asked, “What should you look out for between parked cars?” I knew the answer, and reacted immediately by slowing the car right down. Quite suddenly a child ran straight out in front of the car. My foot on the brake brought the car skidding to a halt. The little immigrant boy’s hands came to rest on the bonnet. Our eyes held each other’s looks of fear and amazement. That moment is stretched out forever in my mind. The boy’s life was saved by a guardian Spirit.

The most astonishing thing to me about this experience¾and others like it¾is the powerful way in which the Spirit communicates with me. I heard a voice, but it was not spoken; it did not reach me through my ears, although it was as real as if it had. No, it emanated from a level of consciousness deeper than language, deeper than conscious thought itself. The choice of voice could not be random. The voice had to provoke an immediate reaction to the very imminent danger caused by my careless driving. The message had to be understood and its urgency appreciated instantly. The solution was to use a voice and a question utterly pertinent to the situation:  Not “Excuse me, but did you know you were going too fast?” but a question that focused through reason and emotion on the danger at hand.

On another occasion, I knelt beside my bed and prayed for help in resolving a particular problem. As my head nestled into the pillow soon afterwards, another communication rose to the surface of my consciousness. Again it came in the form of a question; but this time I remember the voice as my own: “Why don’t you fast?”¾the advice I might have given another. I fasted from that moment, and the following day brought resolution. At other times, the communication has emerged as a peaceful and reassuring feeling, a bout of inexplicable tears, or “a stupor of thought” (Doctrine and Covenants 9: 9).  All have the same origin: that deep-seated instrument of my soul that resonates with the Spirit.

This is soul-to-soul communication of the most intimate and caring nature. As Paul says, “The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit.” (Romans 8: 16)  The Lord said, “I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost . . . this is the spirit of revelation.” (Doctrine and Covenants 8: 2-3)