I wonder sometimes how other people can doubt God’s intense, devoted, tender, passionate, constant love and complete acceptance of them. There are certain people who are, to me, so clearly precious to the Lord, it stuns me that they do not know and rest in this. But then, I too am one of those people. When I have shared stories of what the Lord has done for me, and the ways in which He has manifested Himself and His Kingdom to me – I imagine I might be seen as someone whom the Lord loves dearly. In my head, I know that certainly He must. In my heart though, are layers of unbelief caused by religion, works-righteousness, and having been raised in an atmosphere of worthlessness and fear. In the current phase of my life, it is a battle to know and live out of my identity in Christ Jesus, and not how the religious, works-righteous, fearful people around me choose to identify me. We know that He purifies us as a refiner purifies silver. I have shared my insight into this and how our purification is viewed in God’s eyes. It is a beautiful thing to Him, though it can seem painful from our perspective.
I know that there is a life-long root of rejection in me. We were not created with the capacity to be rejected. We are accepted in the Beloved. This is how we are made – as accepted, and not as rejected. We all face rejection. I believe it is crucial for each of us to face this with Him, and cooperate to let Him overcome this in us. “Cheer up! I have overcome the world.” It is Christ in me, and in you, which is our hope for glory. But I digress…
I am determined not to take the next major step in my life without overcoming this disbelief of His love for me. I have had such fear that I have failed Him, that after all He’s done or me, I have proven to be a waste of His time and attention. That He might, of sheer mercy and pity, simply retire me and put me out to pasture. As though He’d gambled on me, and lost. The idea that I have been a failure, that He doesn’t “believe in me” anymore, has been depressing and excruciating. And it has been a lie.
When I started remembering that what I have been thinking and feeling is a lie, I have sought to overcome this lie with the truth. The truth is whatever God says about me. I need to know the truth. not just cognitively, but experientially. It has taken reaching the end of me all over again, to be able to begin to receive the truth. We know that Jesus IS the Truth, and that God’s perspective is what is real and trustworthy and accurate, not our own. And so I have been seeking to know His love for me, because I will die without knowing it. We all will die inside, and even physically if we do not have experience of His love for us. It is what makes life worth living.
Last night I had a dream. It was precious, and a great treasure to me. In this dream, I saw myself and related to myself from the perspective of God. It was only a slight glimpse of His perspective, but it was precious. In this dream “Deborah” was at first an infant, and “I” held her and loved her and adored her as any loving mother does her child. I kissed her eyelids, and traced her ears with my fingers, and blew softly on her face, and had all the love that mothers have for their newborns, and nothing but love for her. She responded somewhat to my attention and touch, as my own newborn once respond to such things. But then she had a bad dream, and squirmed and cried and no longer responded to my loving presence and touch. Her squirming and crying was done in my arms, with my constant comfort and soothing, loving, gentle words and care of her. Mothers do not put down their children and avoid them when they are hurt, crying, and afraid. A moment later, as I still held her, she was a little older. A baby, not an infant. I held her still with such joy, and such swelling pride in how she had grown. She was beautiful, and she was mine. I spoke tenderly and affectionately and lovingly to her, and now she did not only grasp my finger as she had when she was newborn – but she interacted with me a bit more. Her eyes were focused, and she looked into mine briefly, from time to time, as she was exploring her surroundings with them. When she looked into my eyes, even briefly, they were moments of completion, and oneness in love with me. Those are moments that a parent lives for. Again, she saw something terrifying, or listened to a voice which hated her, and she cried in fear and confusion and pain and squirmed in my arms again. It took more effort to hold onto her because she had grown. But nothing could possibly cause me to loosen my hold of her. She was my own child, and nothing at all could ever take her out of my arms. Least of all a lying, hateful voice that whispered in her little ear. I soothed her continually, and held her gently but firmly so that she would not wriggle away from my arms.
A moment later, and she was a toddler. Here she was on my lap, my arms always around her, but tenderly, and with room for her to move. She was beautiful, and precious, and adorable, and I did adore her. My love for her and pride in her had only grown since she was a baby. Now, she could understand some of the words I spoke to her, and respond to them. I don’t remember in the dream what words I said, but they were only of great love and glory, hope and promise. And she heard me, and looked in my eyes, and smiled at me because she recognized my voice. I smiled back at her, and held her gaze, because these were the moments that I lived for. The moments that my baby connected with me and lovingly recognized me and took in my love for her, and gave me her own. She needed these moments of recognition and connection with me, and always would, because she needed me. She needed these moments of connection and recognition and oneness with me because the filthy, lying voice of hate and fear would whisper to her again, and she would again writhe in fear and pain and desperation. And my hold on her would not loosen, nor would my voice be stilled but soothing in a way that she would need my voice and hold to soothe and comfort her. Because when she was listening to the evil one, my voice would be constantly in her ears, the remembrance of oneness, and unity, and completion now competing for her attention the way the evil voice had competed for her attention when her gaze was on me.
That was when I woke up. And as I am writing this, I am moved by the great, constant, unending, unconditional hold that my Papa has on me. That His voice is constant, and soothing, and loving, and filled with promise and hope. I am beginning to see that no matter how I squirm, and fight His hold on me, it is only because of the filthy, lying voice of the evil one which has lulled me away from enjoying the connection and oneness I share with my Papa. There is nothing in this world or the next which would cause my Father to let go of me, or to silence His voice. And the times in the last 3 years in which I have literally felt His touch, or literally heard His voice – these have not been a gamble on His part. He has not stayed constantly with me and blessed me by awareness of His presence only to give up in disappointment of me. He has done what’s necessary to overcome the voice of religion, works-righteousness, unbelief, worthlessness and fear which has competed for my attention. He can never be disappointed in me – He is my Father and He loves me as a mother loves her child. And He will always hold onto me and speak to me in whatever ways He must to counter the ways the evil one also speaks to me. And since I have looked in His eyes and responded to His voice, even if only as an infant - there is nothing that can stop me from knowing His voice, and nothing that can soothe or comfort me as He does. There is nothing which can stop me from seeking His face, and His voice, and seeking those moments of completion and unity with Him, when we look into each others’ eyes or His words are spoken into my heart.
So. That was my dream, and I am blessed that He has helped me to understand even a tiny bit, that He loves me, always, no matter what, and that no amount of my squirming in fear and pain can possibly cause Him to loosen His loving, constant hold of me. And that He will never, ever give up on me.
I hope this blesses you as it blesses me. Your Papa loves you with an intense, devoted, tender, passionate, constant love, and he accepts you completely, just exactly as you are right now. There is no question as to the Truth of this. How wonderful, if you and I can grow up a little more on His lap and in His arms, so that we can respond to and enjoy even more intensely and more often, His beautiful voice and those precious times when we see Him face-to-face. Oh, how He loves us.
Thank you for listening to my dream. Have a most excellent day.
