BEHIND THE DOOR

My friend posted about her dream which reminded me I was going to share with you about a dream I had last week.  Her dream was totally different and so beautiful.  Mine was of a different nature...

My pastor and his wife were at our house.  We were all out in the yard having a picnic.  (In real life we have never done anything like this with them.)  My pastor's wife needed to use our bathroom.  I told her it was down the hall.  Then a feeling of horror came over me.  In my dream, the door past the bathroom held my deepest secret sin.  It was in there.  And I just knew she had opened the door revealing my deepest shame.  I ran in and there she was.  Mouth hanging open.  Shock and horror on her face.  She turned to me and said, "you know I have to do something about this".  I begged her to not to.  Then I was in a police car.  They were going to arrest me.  But as I sat there devastated, the most amazing thing happened.  My Pastor's wife started calling some of the ladies from the church who she most trusted.  Reminded me of Jesus calling the 12 disciples.  They were to come right away and help cover my sin.  Take away my shame.  Rescue me.  And I knew if they did the police would release me.  And she told them that after this day "we" will never speak of this again.

I woke in a cold sweat.  Because I KNOW what is behind that door.  Now if you are perfect and don't struggle with anything you can stop reading now.  But if you are human and honest and you struggle in an area. Keep reading.

Of course, I'm not going to tell you "my" sin, "my" struggle.  Did you think I would?  Sorry, not there yet in my walk.  But some sins that people struggle with are: lust, gossip, lying, prejudice, anger, stealing, shame from past sins, shame of failure in any number of areas, low self-esteem, guilt that has become a companion, drinking, smoking, drugs, depression etc. etc. etc.  Just add yours if I missed it.

My daughter and I kind of interpret the dreams of family and close friends.  We point out what we see.  My pastor and his sweet wife represent authority.  And being a woman too.  It's significant that it is she who opens the door.  But they may represent the Lord too.  Cause she covers my sin for me.  She rescues me with the help of the church ladies, and then tells them to not tell anyone.  What a beautiful picture of the body of Christ.  Coming in helping where I was struggling.  Showing love and no condemnation.  Lifting a burden I couldn't lift myself.  I heard once we are all to carry our own backpacks.  The day to day stuff is in our backpack but if we get a large boulder in the road of life and can't move it, then the body of Christ is to come in and help us.  It was a picture of balance.  The individual is strong but the whole body uses it's talents when we can't do it ourselve.  Then we can all move on toward Heaven.

But back to the dream.. the police in the dream, represent the law, no mercy.  Maybe even the devil.  They are going to take me away and put me away.  I'm a loser.  A criminal. But the ladies "fix" it.  That is like salvation and mercy and grace.  When we are saved we deserve the worst.  We deserve to be locked up and the key thrown away.  But Jesus pays the price and we are freed. We are given mercy and grace.  God's favor covers us.  And we have a second chance.

Also about the begging for her to not "tell" on me.  We often like our sin, our struggle.  It is familiar. I remember when I was very depressed.  I was comfortable there.  I could always fall back on it.  It was dependable.  I know that sounds so wrong but if you haven't ever been depressed don't judge me.  Just believe me.  When I was healed/delivered of the depression I had to learn how to behave without it.  And after 20 years of living with it, it wasn't easy to learn a new way.  On this side of it I can say it was worth it, for sure.  But I see so many times that people like their sin.  The devil makes sure we get just enough satisfaction in our sin that we aren't motivated to abandon it.  And sometimes our struggles make us feel virtuous.  We feel like "look at me, aren't I such a wonderful Christian?  I'm struggling with this awful thing and look how good "I am" doing!"   Getting glory for ourselves instead of letting God help us and him get the glory.

Again the picture of the church ladies coming together.  What power we have together.  Sometimes it is a physical thing.  We might bring in food for a birth or death.  My brother is good to help people move.  One time when we were youth pastors.  We were moving.  The youth group showed up 17 kids.  In no time flat our duplex was empty.  It was amazing.  How many talents do we possess and not use?  Sometimes someone just needs a few words of encouragement. Other times people need some prayers.  Sometimes just a listening ear.  Or maybe someone to pay their water bill.  There is power in coming together and doing something.   It makes the work light.

I also recognize that a dream is often unrealistic too.  Sometimes mere people can't stop what they are doing and come help.  We are at best forgiven at worst human.  But we could move toward the ideas of the dream.  Do what we can.  Do what the Lord nudges you to do.

A story.....Bleeding on the floor....

Disclaimer: This is a story that is about all churches and no church.  My current church home which I adore happens to have the statement The hurting, the hopeless, the hungry.  So I'm using that but I'm thinking of churches I have attended from my childhood up.  I'm thinking of churches that I worked at.  I'm thinking of the body of Christ.  In an effort to move our hearts to be uncomfortable so ministry can happen in the church universal. (which is just a little funny since there are only a handful of you reading this.)  I guess it comes out of my own story as a prodigal and all the others I have seen bleeding.  May God help us all to be Christ like and to not to have to answer why we looked away or why we were indifferent or even hostile.  .

Now to the story....


I lie bleeding on the floor and you walk around me, pretending I'm not there.  You pray, God send us the hurting people, the hopeless, the hungry.  Than you pull back so I don't get blood on you from my bleeding broken heart.  You whisper in the corner about me, about my sin, forgetting how your own sin looked and forgetting the mercy that was given you.  I've lost hope but I show up.  But no one talks to me, no one smiles.   I'm hungry for more than food.  I would love a crumb of friendship?  Maybe just a sliver of a smile?  A kind word? Maybe not acceptance but at least not rejection.  I'm sorry for all the blood seeping but my life is a mess and I heard this was a spiritual hospital.  Was I wrong?  Was I misinformed?  Maybe I could sit here a little while.  I love the stories of that man.  Jesus?  I think that's His name.  They tell me He is the most wonderful man I will ever meet.  I'll leave soon.  I know the pain is too raw on my face but if I could just rest for a moment.  I'll be on my way I promise.  But I heard the singing was beautiful and this was a peaceful place.  A shelter from the storm my life is in.  As I sit I hear your laughter.  I cringe.  I hope you aren't laughing at me.  I can't tell.  Your voices sound just like out there.  But I pull into myself and try to hide.  I can't quite understand it all but if I could stay just a bit longer.  I know this place is yours and I'm trespassing.  But I'm hurting so.  I think the answers might be here.  What?  My time's up?  I didn't cover the pain and the blood and the rawness quick enough?  I'm not welcome.  I needed to become perfect  quicker?  Wait! I remember that man up front...he said there was none perfect, no not one.  Only that Jesus person.  That savior guy.  Okay, okay I'm going.  But before I leave I just want to point out that the smell of sin seems to still be coming from you.  Did you get healed or just cover the wounds?   I heard that real healing took place here.  Maybe they were wrong.