My encounter with the Angelic wasn’t something I was asking for while cleaning up dinner. Suddenly I went from cleaning the counter tops to being stopped in my tracks, and plunged into an overwhelming encounter with the Lord. Seeing a vision of our son Jude in heaven, I was taken away from the dirty dishes behind me . I stood there, tears rolling down my face, as if I was looking him in the eyes.
When the vision was over, I stood there very alone. Very confused and very weepy. Suddenly sadness consumed me, not just for the son I won’t know here on earth, but that I felt alone in my experience. No one would understand what this was like. There would be no words to describe just how my heart felt in that moment. No song to express my grief. It was just me and God that knew of my feelings.
The kids flooded into the kitchen, and chaos resumed just in time for me to wipe my tears and fix the kids plates. My four year old assured me that yet again she would NEVER eat the green stuff that we call kale.
” I would like a peanut butter sandwich please.”
Just like that my encounter was quieted, almost as if it was just a whisper in my ear.
I began to reevaluate my thinking. I had just had a vision , an incredible experience from the Lord. Why was I concerned that no one would understand? Why did I feel the need to feel validated, and ultimately heard? Am I that insecure about my relationship with the Lord that I feel the deep need to compare my experiences with others? Why did I feel so alone?
It was because my thinking was off. Very off.
The beauty of our relationships with the Lord is that they are each unique. He speaks to us so eloquently to meet our needs. The person you are sitting next to in church hears the sermon differently than you do. This is a good thing.
We have gotten to the point where it’s hard for us to celebrate each others differences in the Kingdom. We each have a vital role, one that should be honored and celebrated, not compared.
I have three children here on earth. They each make my heart swell in a particular way that is only from their quirky musings. I would be sad if they were all the same, for they all teach me how to love on different wave lengths. They each bring something special to the table we share with our family. Their characteristics are all equally contributing to the love I have for them.
I love their differences! I don’t want them to compare.
So in the moment that I allowed fear in, comparison began. Fear of man ultimately stole my joy in the whole experience.
Lets back things up here, and say that I hadn’t allowed myself to be fearful of being alone. Let’s say I wiped my tears and I stood taller. Let’s say that I greeted all my children around the dinner table. Let’s say I celebrated each one FOR their differences. I made them, and I love them.
Let’s say I was ENCOURAGED that God loves me enough to allow encounters with him. Let’s say I was grateful. Let’s say I am new.
Lets say that I am confident in his love for me, so confident that others ears and opinions fall off in the face of my Maker. The one that made me different.
