I’m sure you’re like me and you have those moments when you’re absolutely convinced that you can be the best version of yourself and achieve whatever seemingly impossible feat you dream about. That you can be righteous – to the fullest, and be the beacon of light that shines through in moments of severe temptation. That your Holy Spirit never diminishes. That all who see you see grace and strength beyond measure. It’s almost like the holy ghost surrounds you in an unmistakable halo that transcends any possibility for unrighteousness.
Yet, you sometimes consciously choose vice over virtue like you’re just tired of not living in the world, even just for a moment. Sometimes it’s just easier to lie your way out of a problem, or decide it’s okay to succumb to his or her touch just this one time. Christians would understand what I mean. I’m talking about those times when your desires trick you into thinking, no, BELIEVING that you need to just be human and save your arse any way you can, forgetting what consequences wait ahead.
When you’ve consciously fallen to your vices, the guilt seeps in almost immediately, a smirk on her face because she knew all along that you’d falter. And now you wish you’d listened to that nagging voice in your head that kept telling you to think of this particular moment of regret. So you whine and pine because that’s all you can do. You question why God lets you fall so far down, or why His Spirit and Grace leave you ever so often.
And after you’ve beaten yourself up and wallowed in the deepest pit of self pity, you start to make peace with your past and hope for stronger morality. You hope that next time you’ll actually adhere to the warnings of that oh-so-righteous conscience, and skip this cycle of self degrading hatred. You tell yourself God loves you anyway, and you work at climbing out of your self-dug pit.
But then your humanity gets in the way and suddenly you’re taunted with every possible possibility to fall in to your vices again. So you fervently pray every waking moment, for the strength it takes to overcome.
I’ll leave the end to you, because whether or not you overcome is up to you. Will you fall again, or will you triumph over the things that are not of God?
You and I, We Have What It Takes.
I had a dream last night. I think it meant something.
I’m driving home from work on a Friday afternoon. There’s been a storm warning which because of the sheer stubbornness in me, I decide to ignore.
I drive my way through Southeast D.C without a hiccup. The clouds are gathering; dark clouds that cover the skies in nothing but a deep somber grey. The sun is buried so far behind these large blobs of condensed water. It’s almost like we’ve seen its last ray.
I approach the John Phillip Sousa Bridge that crosses the Anacostia River.
John Phillip Sousa Bridge Southeast D.C
Now, the fog is so thick like tons of dirty grey cotton just sitting in the atmosphere. I find myself wishing I had a large pair of scissors and a miracle so I could cut through the cloudiness and find the other end of the bridge.
The winds are hurling at unbelievably high speeds, pushing back anyone who tries to defy the angry elements.
Feeling defiant, I press down on my accelerator in an attempt to brave the force of the wind. I’m barely a quarter of the way into the bridge when I realize that my Toyota Highlander Sport is the only car on the road in either direction. What are you thinking Gabriella? I turn around and drive back. Too late!
N.B: Because this is a dream, events may or may not be completely sensible.
Next thing I know, I’m several feet in the air, no car anywhere in sight, screaming my way down as I fall.
I get an areal view of the surface that awaits my landing. I can see the demarcation of the river and it’s banks. At this point, I’m hoping I’ve done enough good in my life to warrant a place in heaven. I cannot swim.
By some miracle, I land on the soft grounds by the river. It seems like a calculated landing, something straight out of a comic book, a super landing – if you will.
Humming a sweet tune, I peruse my surroundings to see how far away from the water I am. I missed the deep end by only a few feet. The pieces of land around the river bank have fresh farm produce, sprouting from the fertile soil.
The storm has disappeared. All is calm, and the sun is even peeking through from behind the slowly brightening clouds.
I approach a farmer and ask for the way back to the city.
“With a voice like yours, you should be going that way”, he says and points in the direction of a tiny road leading out of the cultivated land. I smile, wave and follow the single file of people heading the same way.
I had been humming this song:
Lauren Daigle performing How Can It Be
You plead my cause,
You right my wrong,
You Break my chains,
You gave your life,
To give me mine,
You say that I am free,
How can it be.
The song I was sin gong is a gospel song called How Can It Be by Lauren Daigle. It testifies to the amazing nature of God and his forgiviness. It fits perfectly. I’ve just been miraculously rescued by God, from what could have been a horrendous accident that ended my life (In the dream). What did I do to deserve saving? I am only a scarred, sinful human.
I recounted this dream to a close friend of mine to which he responded;
“You should be happy. I think you will have a breakthrough. If I were to interpret that dream I would say you were going through something and God saw to amend your situation in your favor.”