I Am A Mudman, And Like It Or Not You Are A Mudman, Too: A True And Literal Story

What is a mudman? Consider yourself. In 1975 I asked Jesus for the gift of tongues. I really did not know what it was, but I had seen and heard people speaking in tongues, and knew we were supposed to receive it. Asking, I found God wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot (three-meter) pole. Trance-like, I saw mud scooped from the ground in the shape of a man and stood in front of me. Seeing within it, some of the mud formed into bones, some into muscles and sinew, some into organs and blood vessels and nervous system, eyes, skin, hair, blood--into a complete physical human. But it was not alive. It had everything but life.

Then it was given life: it breathed, and blood flowed. And it saw. And it thought. I wondered, "What does this new being think of what it sees?" It was a rhetorical question, but God answered by showing me.

The mudman looked out across the plain it had just come from. "This is earth," it thought. "The sun will set, and it will get cold. I had better find shelter in those hills over there." Naked as a jaybird, it started walking toward the hills in the distance. My visual perspective followed along right behind it, a little higher and a bit to the left. I wondered what it saw, and then I could see as though through its eyes. I wondered what it thought, and then I could hear its thoughts. I became embedded in its brain as if I were him. I became the mudman.

Bits of fear trickled in, apprehensions, concerns, and desperation. If I slept on the ground, wild animals might find me and eat me. Could I make a fort among the trees for safety? Here is a cave, but might there be an animal inside already? How do I approach to get inside? Hmm. I'll make a spear. I will need fire. I need to find firewood. What plants are safe to eat? How will I know unless someone dies, and there is no one here but me. Should I plant first, so I won’t be hungry tomorrow?

Then it hit me. I mean it smacked me upside along the head like a two-by-four. There was a moment of insight, fear, and shear terror, for I saw it: "I" was ruling "my" life. I was directing everything, deciding what I was going to do and how I was going to do it. I ruled my life, BUT IT WAS NOT MY LIFE TO DO SO WITH! Only a few moments prior I was just lifeless mud scooped from the earth--a package of dissolved minerals totally inanimate--and then I, this lifeless form of mud, was MADE alive--to live--by God's grace. For His purpose! "MY" LIFE WASN'T MINE!! What I was doing in directing and controlling this life myself was theft, robbery, and rebellion! "My" life was GOD'S life. I had no right to rule it, to lord over and direct it. I was made to live by Him, FOR Him. He must have had some purpose in mind for me when He made me to live. Whatever it was, I had deprived Him of that purpose. I was a thief in His eyes. I had stolen His life and robbed Him of whatever use He had planned for me.

Control. Who is in control? By my controlling HIS life as separate I had earned His condemnation and merited His rejection. And as long as I controlled His life, God COULD NOT accept me. Where could I go? What could I do to remedy this situation? The only thing I could think to do was to get my self-control out of me, to divest myself of it. So I cast my control of myself out of myself as if it were a demonic force. Emptied of it, I was surrendered to the mercy of God. I honestly thought I would fall face-first onto the floor as a totally uncontrolled blob, but I found myself caught, as though I was somehow suspended. I did not fall, so I assumed I could pick up on fulfilling His purpose, the purpose for which He had created me and had given me life in the first place. I took my place as a simple, humble mudman given life for His purpose and listened for His directions. All He said was, "Remember this, and it is all right."

My self-lordship theft and rebellion were forgiven. I was accepted! God had had a work-around plan, Christ, and I had found the key: recognition, honor, humble surrender, and submission to His will. I was overwhelmed with relief and gratitude. And then He filled me with His Holy Spirit. Part and parcel with this infilling was the Holy Spirit's pronouncement of praise and love and appreciation for God's wonderous mercy and grace that I, a bundle of dissolved minerals, should be given His life, His Eternal Life, forever. The Holy Spirit took over the operation of my mouth, and all that worship I had for God came out in a tongue I could only recognize as "oriental." This heart was so lifted up, so emotional and adoring in appreciation. When I get that way again, the Holy Spirit still speaks.