Message Received

Perception may shape the reality we experience without defining what is actually true.

We communicate all day long.

Words.

Facial expressions.

Silence.

Body language.

Behavior.

Timing.

Sometimes what is communicated is intentional.

Sometimes it isn't.

But whether someone meant to send a message or not, we are constantly receiving them.

And then we do something almost immediately.

We interpret them.

Someone doesn't return our call.

They're avoiding me.

Someone's response is shorter than usual.

Something is wrong.

Someone offers criticism.

They don't value what I bring.

A door closes.

It wasn't meant for me.

A door opens.

This must be where I'm supposed to go.

Something happens more than once.

This has to be a sign.

Maybe.

But maybe not.

I've been thinking about how we process a message between receiving it and deciding what it means.

Because those aren't necessarily the same thing.

There is what happened.

There is what we received.

And then there is the meaning we assigned to it.

We tend to collapse all three.

The phone call wasn't returned, and before we know it, an unanswered call has become rejection.

The conversation felt different, and suddenly we're certain the relationship has changed.

The opportunity appeared at exactly the right moment, so we decide it must be confirmation.

We experience something real—and then attach an interpretation to it so quickly that we can forget where the experience ended and our interpretation began.

That's where humility becomes important.

Interpretation requires humility.

Not because we shouldn't trust ourselves.

Not because intuition is meaningless.

Not because everything needs to be questioned until we're incapable of making a decision.

But because interpretation asks us to distinguish between what we know and what we think we know.

There is a difference between saying:

This happened.

and

This is what it means.

That difference can be especially difficult to acknowledge when faith is involved.

I've heard people say, “God told me…”

And I know God communicates.

But I've begun to wonder whether we sometimes give God credit for not only the message—but also our interpretation of it.

What if those aren't always the same thing?

What if God communicated perfectly...

...and I interpreted imperfectly?

That possibility doesn't diminish God.

It acknowledges me.

My experiences.

My expectations.

My fears.

My desires.

My history.

My assumptions.

All of those things can influence how I interpret what I receive.

If I desperately want something to happen, an opportunity can look like confirmation.

If I'm afraid something will happen, an ordinary occurrence can look like a warning.

If I've been hurt before, someone's silence may feel like rejection before I've given them the opportunity to explain it.

If I already believe something about a person, I can interpret almost anything they do as evidence that I was right.

We don't interpret from nowhere.

We interpret from who we are.

And that means discernment may require more than asking, What does this mean?

Sometimes we may also need to ask:

What am I bringing to the interpretation?

That's a harder question.

Because it requires me to consider that I may have received the information accurately while assigning the wrong meaning to it.

It requires me to leave room for something I don't particularly enjoy:

I could be wrong.

Not about what happened.

About what I decided it meant.

There is humility in being able to say:

This is what I received. This is what I believe it means. And I recognize that those are not necessarily the same thing.

That doesn't mean we become afraid to trust our discernment.

It means we hold our interpretations with enough openness to let additional information refine them.

Sometimes understanding comes immediately.

Sometimes it comes through conversation.

Sometimes it comes through confirmation.

Sometimes time reveals that something meant something entirely different from what we originally believed.

And sometimes we may never know.

Maybe every message doesn't require immediate interpretation.

Maybe everything that happens doesn't need to be explained while we're still standing in the middle of it.

Maybe there are moments when wisdom looks less like declaring what something means and more like paying attention.

Listening.

Watching.

Waiting.

Remaining open.

Message received.

Perhaps understanding will come later.

And when it does, maybe the goal isn't to become people who never interpret incorrectly.

Maybe the goal is to become people humble enough to recognize the difference between the message we received and the meaning we gave it.

So here's something worth reflecting on:

Where in your life have you treated your interpretation as though it were a fact?

A relationship?

A conversation?

An opportunity?

A disappointment?

Something you believe God said?

What would happen if, just for a moment, you separated what actually happened from what you decided it meant?

Maybe you were right.

Maybe it meant exactly what you thought it meant.

But maybe it didn't.

And maybe admitting that doesn't mean you can't trust yourself.

Maybe it simply means you're willing to leave room between what you know and what you believe you know.

Because there is a difference.

One is what happened.

The other is the meaning you gave it.

And wisdom may be knowing when to leave room between the two.

Message received.

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Welcome to the Journey.