His Hand

Last night I was attacked in a dream. Unable to defend myself against the onslaught of guilt and regret. Dwelling in past transgressions, images and fears. My soul was pierced to the core. The vivid trickery was at work, and my heart could not resist.

All have sinned and fallen short of the Glory. And we have hurt others. Painfully changed lives by our failures and treachery. If you have no experience like this, may you walk forward in all blessing with the Lord. I on the other hand, am a speck of dust. A loathsome worm. The soul of Jacob, as resides in all men.

There have been some singular experiences in my life, some my own transgressions, others the inadvertent impact upon those around me, that imprint deeply. Who are we to judge what is of consequence or not? Yet my mind latched onto these and was tormented.

A few were the regular spear of the enemy whenever I would begin to walk closer to the Lord. Yes, if we are in denial of our choices, and are at a impasse in spiritual growth, these spears can wound us every time we attempt to move forward.

Or if you have fallen away from God, turned to the emptiness in the world looking for satisfaction, these spears bleed you further toward destruction. In my darkest hour, deep in self destruction and depression, it seemed I would welcome these wounds, dwell on them. Absorbed in inward pain, pity, guilt, fear, loathing, and anxiety.

But I never wanted to live there, never wanted to hurt myself or anyone around. Yet we can not escape it. Your natural being can not live up to even the worlds expectations, let alone the mark set by Jesus. Trying, wanting to be good, not wanting to hurt anyone, is all fine, but you will not make it. You can not make it. And the result of those failings is death.

But dear saint, we need not accept death. We do not need to live according to death. We have been crucified with Him. Accept it, recognize that you have access to eternal life every second of every day. I knew this, and still clung to death for a long time. But He transformed my will. I received healing in my being to be pulled from the internal wreckage.

My soul dominated and dictated my life. Desires, depressions, escapism from all of the pain was its complete focus at times. And to not share that with anyone, even to have that hidden life as a sanctuary. Alone in my pain and selfishness. Unable to open up, unwilling to move forward.

Yet He never left me. Always holding out the hand. Grace after Grace poured out to me. I deserve nothing but death, and in Him I have died. In my place is growing the life of eternity, the work of Christ. He counts the transformed me, as His own, as something beyond what I see.

In my dream the enemy came, and at my weakest moment. Waves of unconscious anxiety, fear, guilt, trepidation, all accompanied by the images of the past. The untransformed places in my mind, active memories, imaginations yet to be deflated.

Then I woke up suddenly. Not by anything I noticed, I was absorbed by rejection at that moment within my dream. I looked over an noticed the bedroom door ajar. My middle daughter was standing there, and I thought I heard a sniffle. I extracted myself from the temporary death of sleep, and got up to see what was the matter.

I went to her and asked if she needed to use the toilet, as she has now made it through the night for weeks. She answered me, “Daddy, I'm thirsty.” I was a bit surprised at that, because she has never asked for a drink in the middle of the night before. Further more she never gets up and roams about until it is light.

So I got her a drink of water and she went right back to sleep. I flopped down in my bed, still full of all the emotions of my dream. I turned to the Lord, and gave Him my feelings. Then I simple called out to Him, “Daddy, I'm thirsty.” It seemed a bit silly to my mind. But He knows our hearts, He knows our need in times of darkness. I fell back to sleep.

When I got up in the morning I was still irritated in my mind about the barbs of the deceiver. I whiled away the morning, then in the shower, I was praying and He revealed to me how deceptive my dream was. Then I saw how He saved me from that attack. He used my daughter to both wake me up physically, and as a picture of meeting my own need.

I was at the shores of death, and He picked me up. I was under attack, and could not defend myself, He was my shield. I was beguiled by my own soul into doubting His perfect ministry. By dwelling on our transgressions, by rehashing our injuries, we are not believing in His salvation. Lord forgive my doubt, forgive my self trust. I could never save myself.

He will wake us up. When we fall asleep, when our natural dwelling has faded, and passed into the ground, under the waters, He will speak. “Arise! Come and drink with me!” Just as it was last night, we have a promise, and He faithfully walks in that reality throughout our lives and beyond.

I am still in awe as I write this. You Lord, are beyond amazing! You are worthy of eternal praise. I want to stand before You and praise You forever. Singing Your Glorious works from the one end of the Universe to the other. I want to yell it, with a voice louder than any, “Jesus is the King of all creation! Holy is the King!”

He is so faithful, even in our immobilized weakness. I can not move, I can not speak. Yet He speaks. He moves within me. What can I do? I am undone, but a fading flower of the field. Dead in Him. And yet I live.

After I realized what the Lord had done for me, how He had saved me, He added to that a new song. It came without trying, without strain. So easily He leads us to life giving water. Dear saint, as you read this, praise Him, if not for what you know now, praise Him for saving even one such as I.