I had a dream last night. I was falling. One hundred and nine stories to my death in an elevator. There was a boy with me, probably 10 or 11. He had light brown curly hair. Like Shirley Temple hair on a boy. It was beautiful. He was screaming. I wanted to reach out, hold him, ask him if he knew Jesus. The force of the fall was so intense that all I could do was lie on the ceiling of the elevator. And sing. The only song I could remember was “This Little Light of Mine”.
Falling is my biggest fear. Falling dreams are the most terrifying experience I’ve ever had. I used to have them all of the time. It has been probably 10 years since the last one. I couldn’t figure out why, all of a sudden, I had one again. At first I thought it was because of how little control I have over my life right now. How confused I am and have been about where I am meant to be, what I am meant to do. But then I took a deeper look at what I was feeling during that fall. The song I was singing, the longing to know if the boy would be going to Heaven, the peace I felt about halfway through. The point wasn’t the falling, the point was that my end was near and I hadn’t taken the time to reach anyone for Christ. It’s true of my real life as well. With every passing day, the end draws nearer. I find myself too busy, too caught up in my own life to concern myself with someone else’s eternity. Sure, I have a fish on my car, go to church, small group, volunteer at events, invite people (sometimes), but what am I really doing to reach out to those around me? I’m playing it safe, inviting people I know really well or people I know are already Christians to church. I tell people that the greatest thing about my church is our focus on outreach. It truly is. As a Christian, my biggest passion should be for reaching those who are lost. But when it comes right down to it, I am afraid. Scared that people will make fun of me, reject my invitation, change their opinion of me. But shouldn’t I be more scared that those same people will never find the love of God and peace that he provides. Shouldn’t I fear that the people I love will one day find themselves in Hell? Seriously. Talk about getting priorities straight.
My mission is to invite one person, each and every day to church. Then write about what God is teaching me each day. The good moments, the bad, the embarrassing. I’m pretty good at making a fool of myself, so it should be fun. This may not be the most interesting blog for some people out there, but it will do its part to keep me accountable.
I had decided to spend today fasting and praying for insight into what God wants from my life. Where he wants me to be, what he wants me to be doing. Part of the answer came quickly. Writing. He wants me to be writing. But not just any writing. He wants me to be writing for Him, about Him.
He answers. Always.