I had a dream in which I had all the answers.
It was a crowded room and there were a few people there I knew, people who are precious to me. We were there for a wedding, but I don't recall knowing the bride or groom.
It was almost like we were there by mistake.
But someone spoke (after turning a cartwheel - but I think that's beside the point), and their words were in rhyme and eloquent, and then they were cut short by emotion.
Someone else, someone classically silent and cynical, picked up the poem from the beginning and delivered it powerfully. His words pierced the air with violent convictions of a life that is pointless and pleasure-less, and his finger pointed at God.
They were angry words.
There was a line in the poem that stung, but there were atheists in the room - believers of their own delusion - and this line of poetry was like an "amen" to them.
They nodded and looked at me. They had offended my God and everyone looked at me like I was going to finally concede that God really is a lie and they were right - life is pointless.
I timidly raised my hand and asked permission to interrupt. Whatever the line of poetry had been, my heart burned with the answer.
It was something simple, of course, because that's how God does things. He uses the simple to confound the wise.
I gave my simple answer just as the alarm went off, of course, because that's how dreams go. And I can't remember the simple words or their effect.
>>>>>>>>>>
I have a dream in which I have all the answers.
Every doubt and misconception and fear and bias and every single supposed discovery of science falls silent in the dream of my simple answers. Every question is answered and unbelieving hearts repent.
Because I love the lost.
Because sometimes I think that having the right answer will find them.
Because there will come a day when we will all answer and I guess I want to get the right ones out before the alarm goes off.
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I remember my answer now.
My answer was that we haven't done anything to be loved by God, that He won't love us more or less based on what we do or do not do.
It's the kind of thing I try to teach my kids, the lesson we learn from Gideon or Moses or the woman at the well. In a room full of skeptics and scholars and cynics, I gave the most basic of answers...
and I think I answered myself.
>>>>>>>>>>
I have a dream in which I believe my own answers.
Linking up with The Wellspring, Imperfect Prose, and #TellHisStory