Old Man

I keep having all these things that I feel ought to be talked about and not having the energy to deal with them.

In lieu of all the stories about near firings, being back in the Principal's good graces and being sick, I am going to write about this 'vision' I had at church on Sunday.

First, I use vision very loosely. This is not like a Paul on Damascus Road type of vision, but more just a mental picture representing some figurative reality.

At church on Sunday, there was a new guy leading the worship. I liked his style. We sang this song that he wrote that talked about how Christ helps us to approach the cross, and that we need this help because we are to broken, hurt, whatever to come on our own accord.

So I was thinking about this when I had a vision of myself as an old man. I was probably like 80 something, with a long gaunt body encased in wrinkled skin. I had white hair that was matted on my head, and short curly white hairs for a beard. My eyes carried a far away look of experiencing many days of sorrow, that haunted expression of hopelessness. I moved with an arthritic difficulty, shuffling from bed to kitchen to living room to bed.

Into this picture, moved a cross. The cross inched forward slowly at first, gaining size as it approached, until it loomed over me as it stood about 20 feet away. Then a man approached. The exact image of the man was not clear (I think that I hesitate to put a description on Jesus, even in my imagination, because of all of the white European Jesus portraits that I despise), but a sense of magnanimity surrounded him, of peace.

At this point, I wanted so much to go near to the man, and to the cross. My body however, would not permit it. I could not bend, nor step, nor kneel, nor offer any outward sign that I should desire such movement. The man then stood next to me, and placing his hands on my shoulder and arm, he eased me forward with a gentle urging. At the foot of the cross, he supported my slow descent to the ground, even to the point that I resisted because of the pain (arthritis and all).

So I guess what I got outta this picture was that I am currently resistant to how God is working in my life. The good part is that even with this resistance, even with my unrighteousness, Jesus is still willing to come to me and lay his hands on me, and he will put me in a position where I can know and see God, even if it is painful at first.

I pray that I would be welcoming to His movement in my life, and more than welcoming, that I would seek it. I pray that for you as well. Peace.