WARNING: This post is Rated R as in "Religious."

I’ve heard about visions. Mainly from my Polish Catholic mom who’s told me millions of stories about them. Visions of the Virgin Mary. Visions of the Pope. Visions of the Saints. Visions of the Virgin Mary, the Pope and the Saints having a latté at Starbucks. But me, personally? I’ve never had one. At least not until about a week ago.

Now, I consider myself a pretty strong Christian. I feel that God has answered my prayers. There have even been times where I felt God was saying something to me. But a vision? Come on.

But this one particular night as I sat in my chair praying, with some Christian song playing something about “hope” (I should’ve probably written down the song’s name. Oh well), out of nowhere, I got a flash of Jesus’s broken face wearing a crown of thorns.

My reaction was probably much like yours. “Umm, what?” which was immediately followed by me crying like a baby. I didn’t really know why I was seeing this. “What could this mean?” I was overwhelmed, sniffling with happiness that God, the Creator of the universe was communicating with little ol me. But this did kinda freak me out so I opened my eyes and blinked a couple times. But as I closed them again, the vision was still there. It was as if it lingered there on purpose. I had no idea what it meant. I asked God to tell me what it meant, but I was too impatient to wait for an answer. So I did the next best thing and took the logical approach and frantically searched my brain for an answer.

“What could this mean? There must be a reason why I just saw Christ’s suffering face. The first thing I thought of was that He understood what I was going through. Oh, by the way, I should’ve probably mentioned that the few days prior to this were especially depressing. So I couldn’t help but think that I was seeing this because Jesus knew how I felt. And upon that realization, I cried some more.

That is until my left brain kicked in. “Luke, what if this WASN’T a vision? What if you imagined it randomly, just like you imagine all the other weird crazy visions that just ‘pop’ into your head? Like that vision you had of a hippo and a goat sharing a latté at Starbucks.”

So I answered back. “Hey Left Brain! I’m tryin to have a moment here!” Man, nothing like logic to swoop in with a major spiritual buzz kill. But hey, why not entertain my logical half a little. I figured it’s the least I can do. It did get me through Physics class. With a C. So I humored Lefty a little.

A: Let’s say that this truly was a vision and let’s say that I believe that. Okay, so this will probably make me a stronger Christian and even touch a few lives through my story.

B: But maybe this was not a vision. But what if I still believe that it was? Well, I’ll probably still become a stronger Christian and still touch a few lives through my story. Hmm. Now, assuming there is a God, and the result of me thinking I experienced a vision brings me closer to God, wouldn’t it still be from God, and therefore a vision? Or at least something that happened for a reason? Hmm.

C: Ah, option C. This is where I just ignore the “vision” and equate it to the same significance of a hippo/goat/latté situation and simply go on with my life like it never happened. But I guess that’s the whole point of all this rambling.

We all experience things in our lives that can be interpreted to be either “divine intervention,” or “coincidence.” Every time something like that happens, we make a conscious decision whether to believe it or not. In my case, I have chosen to believe that it was a vision.

So maybe there’s a reason why I saw what I saw, or I thought I saw what I saw, and wrote it down and posted it. And maybe there’s a reason why you’re reading this. Maybe you’re supposed to know about Jesus, or maybe you’re supposed to pick up a Bible and read about Him. Or maybe you’re supposed to tell someone you read this. Or maybe you’re supposed to respond to this post with a clever rebuttal that mentions an option “D,” which involves no God and something about useless humans wasting time blogging. Then maybe I’m supposed to reply to that with option E, which really makes you think, which was the whole point of all of this.

I honestly don’t know. But if you feel like this is speaking to you, don’t ignore it. Try and believe it. You may be surprised what happens. Or as my good friend, Matt would say,

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” (Mathew 7:7)

FYI – The Bible isn’t a bad place to start the seeking.

New York! Chicago! Los Angeles! Detroit.

I am so sick of people saying that Detroit is a deteriorating city with no creative opportunities. Do you know how many buildings I pass everyday that have yet to be spray-painted? But I didn’t come to Detroit to become a graffiti-spewing, gang-banging purse-snatching hooligan. I came here for a job. Yea, I know. Detroit. Of all places. Thank you, Man upstairs. To be honest, I never saw myself here. Before moving, I was a little terrified. I can’t rap like Eminem. I don’t have a bulletproof trailer like Kid Rock. I don’t have a grill. Will I get stabbed? Car jacked? Will I do the car jacking? Well it’s been about a year, and only a couple flesh wounds later, I couldn’t be happier. Funny because when I was on the job hunt, I saw myself in NYC, Chi-town or some other big city with a cool slang term. But I never thought I’d be in the “D.” But now that I’m here, I realize all the different things that make this such a unique city. So much culture, so much history, and from a creative stand point, I feel like here, I have a blank canvas. I really see myself leaving a mark here. (I just hope it won’t be from a puddle of pee when I get mugged). I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if I ended up in some other big city. If there’s anything I learned in school about advertising, it’s about positioning yourself strategically and not getting lost in the clutter. So the next time you hear any ignorant bad mouthing about Detroit, don’t think twice about it, especially if, actually sorry, gotta go. Driveby.