The Night I Died

In my sinful, prideful, secret cove of my heart, I don't want to put to words the things that have been swirling inside me for almost two weeks. But I feel so compelled, almost forced, to type them. As I sat rocking my sweet daughter back to sleep, the pressure inside my body and my mind physically hurt. I have to do this. Because there is too much at stake.

Let me go back to that night, two weeks ago, when death greeted me in my dark, cold, lonely bedroom.

Sam was working third shift, so I was alone in our bed, trying my best to sleep with the pillows as a makeshift big spoon. I had finally dozed off and my mind began its nightly ritual of entertaining me from within. I was in some kind of a field/factory/ruin, surrounded by strangers, family, friends, and acquaintances. We were doing some kind of physical labor, but not necessarily disheartened about it. There was a sense of comraderie and familiarity between us all, and the mood was light. In an instant, a medium-sized piece of shrapnel blazed to the earth before us and collided with the earth in a shattering BOOM. As in any good action movie, I watched dirt and debris fly out from the spot and people jump for cover. When the moment passed, those of us unharmed stood to survey the damage - several people hurt, fewer dead. What had happened? I remember feeling (in my dream) confused and yet also relieved - life would go on. But just as I was about to return to my work, another larger piece of shrapnel rocketed through the sky and before it landed, I dropped to the ground, covered my head in my arms, and shut my eyes as tight as I could. It was in that instant that I teetered between wakefulness and this dream-turned-nightmare. In real life, I was also clenching my eyes shut. I remember thinking, no, hoping, that I would continue towards being awake. But I remained in that middle zone, watching my dream finish even while my mind was aware that I was no longer in that field. Usually, in a dream like this, I wake up right in the nick of time - right before something terrible and terminal happens. Not so in this dream. I was forced to watch myself be killed, and then approach the gates of heaven. I heard, in the most terrifying and awful voice, the words "Depart from me, I never knew you." And then BAM. I was awake. And bawling. I could not get a hold of myself. Did I really just watch myself be rejected from the court of my King?

Since that night, I have tried (sometimes consciously, othertimes without even realizing I was doing it) to put the dream out of my memory. It was just a dream, right? But no, it feels like more than just a dream. Something deep within me knows that it is more than just a dream. I have imagined what it would be like to tell someone about my dream, what their reactions might be. Maybe you might try to convince me that I was crazy and that God loves me and because I go to church or confess Christ as my savior I have nothing to worry about. Maybe you would be right. Maybe you might tell me I am right. That I should drop to my knees and do whatever it takes to make sure I will be welcomed into heaven. Maybe you would also be right. Or maybe I need to stop thinking about what *you* would say and start dwelling on what God would tell me.

I have gone to church my whole life. I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't involved in some kind of service project or ministry. From working in the church nursery, to leading Young Life, to praying with my daughter at night, my life has always revolved around some aspect of my faith. But is it enough?

I am really good at answering questions in a way that will please others. What I mean is, I have become a pro at being honest without being vulnerable. Yeah, I struggle in my faith, but everyone does at some point. Yeah, I sin, but God is gracious and forgiving. But is it enough?

I wish I could say that since my dream, my life has been radically different. That I pray unceasingly and volunteer all my free time. That I have started to care about Christ more than I care about myself and what others think of me.
But that would be a lie.

So that is why I need to write this blog. Because I need to confess to all the *yous* out there, that I have failed. I am a liar. A fraud. A hypocrite. I am lazy, selfish, and prideful. God is not the center of my life, of my heart, or of my mind. And I am on the road to death

But I am desperate to change. I am committing, here and now, to devote my waking hour to the studying of scripture, and to listening to the voice of God. I know it's so little to offer a God who is so Great. But I'm afraid if I try to do more, I will fail even worse. So I am trusting that God will go before me and convict me along the way to offer more and more until I am finally a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to Him.


Pray with me


Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.