Do you ever feel like you are stuck in the same bad dream?
It’s a dream where the family you grew up with treats you like an outcast. People you thought were your friends abandon you because your life is a mess. Your boss finds fault in everything you do. The constant rejection is suffocating.
When you enter a room, the faces looking at you morph into the faces of people who have condemned you. The impatient checkout clerk has the same disappointed expression your parent had. The new neighbors next door roll their eyes when you talk, and you know they have already given up on you, just like your friends did. Your kids criticize everything you do for them, and nothing is good enough, just like your boss.
On some level, you agree with all of them. You have made mistakes. Too often, your best wasn’t good enough. Your failures are now on display in your kids’ lives. The shame is overwhelming.
You’ve tried to find friends or groups to help, but they haven’t. You’ve read the Bible until you can recite the words, but healing hasn’t come. You’ve prayed for God to take away the pain, but it continues.
As crowds close in around you, pointing out your inadequacies, you feel less than an adult. The helpless child inside begins to cry.
Tears cloud your vision, and you begin to run, pushing past people, going in any direction that will provide an escape. When it seems impossible to break free, you see Jesus seated in front of you. He looks at you and says “Come, little one. Have a seat”.
As you walk toward him, you can hear the crowd saying “Jesus, there is much to be done, don’t waste your time here.”
He dismisses them with a gesture and invites you again to sit with him. When you do, he gently wipes the tears from your face and brushes back your hair.
“It’s not fair!” you shout.
“I know”.
He holds you patiently as you sob, gently comforting you. Unexpectedly, he begins to talk about a flower growing nearby. He reminds you that it is your favorite color.
For the first time, you look up to see what he is pointing to. Without trying, you smile and make a crack in the sadness. He’s right of course. It is your favorite.
Time slips by as you sit with him. He doesn’t tell parables or teach you lessons. There are no stories to reflect on later, examining their meaning. Instead, he patiently enjoys your time together, drawing joy from each smile you share, delighting in the little things you say and do.
Before long, tears of laughter replace the sorrowful ones he wiped away earlier. You tell him which parts of his creation you find to be the most beautiful, and he points out that same beauty inside you.
Suddenly remembering the surrounding crowds, you quietly say “Can you make them be nice to me?”
“Know that I love you, little one.”
It is not enough to know every verse in the Bible. Even believing that he died for you will not bring you peace. It is his love that will set you free. Until you embrace it, you live in a prison with the door left open.
Spend all the time you need in his arms. Step away a few paces to show him the amazing tricks you have learned. Feel free to step away further. It’s OK. He’s still there.
The recurring nightmare will end. The voices from your past will fade into the mist. Your accusers will be silenced as you focus on how much he loves you.
The power to change the world is inside you. It doesn’t come from your intellect, strength or any other gift you were given. Certainly, those things are of great value. Each was carefully designed and crafted only for you as he created your soul. Those things are part of who you are, but his love is the engine that makes everything run.
Step fearlessly into each moment when you hear his call. Extravagantly share his love with others. Your destiny has always been in front of you. A dying world needs you.
At times, there will still be pain. Voices will ring out that you are not enough. You will occasionally look to Jesus in doubt, asking if everything will be OK. You will always hear his words.
“Know that I love you, little one.”
