Here I am.
Face to face with my own brokenness.
In desperation I cry out, oh God…deliver me, as I see the depth of my sin, realize the immensity of my weakness. Oh God…deliver me.
But how? How does He deliver? What will He do to free me from myself?
Let Me show you the dream on My heart, He whispers.
And He takes me to that place.
That place of most dreaded sadness. There. Golgotha. Mary’s robes whipping in the wind as tears stream down her face. Man unrecognizable hanging on a tree. Blood-soaked ground and moans of anguish.
This is My dream, He says again with wetness on his cheeks and a smile tugging the corners of his mouth.
Oh God. God. What could you mean? How is this Your dream?
Here, give Me your sin. Give Me your brokenness, He says.
I hand it over and wonder what on earth my sin has to do with His dream. He takes it in His hands and walks over to this place of greatest grief…the cross of Christ. He lays my sins there at the cross and beckons for me.
Give them to Me here on My body, My banner of Love lifted up.
No. No. I can’t. This Jesus…oh…He is everything to me.
I’ve known Him my whole life. With every passing day, every passing year, He’s become more beautiful to me. I’m one of the lucky ones. I met Him so young. He’s never been anything but beauty to me. And the more I know Him, the more I understand His perfection.
I would never, ever want to do anything to hurt Him. I came to Him with a young, tender heart because of His beauty…not because of my brokenness. I was too young to understand my lostness. He rescued me before I even had time to stray. Oh, precious Savior.
But here I am now, all grown and with the weight of the world on my shoulders. With a heavy understanding that I am lost in so many ways, that my heart still has darkened corners and crevices in need of light. All grown and realizing what a child I am in my selfishness and my weaknesses.
Put your sins on Me, here on this tree. Please, dear one. This is My dream.
Jesus, no. No, I cannot. You’re everything to me. Your beauty astounds me. Your Love has always watched out for me. You’ve never done anything to deserve this. You are perfect. How could I do this to You?
Then Jesus there on the cross looks down at me. I see the message in His eyes, too…Please, dear one. Give it to Me so My dream can come true.
Oh Jesus. Why? Why does it have to be like this? Isn’t there another way? Isn’t there a deliverance from my darkness…mine, not Yours…that doesn’t require hurting the One who has always Loved and believed in me no matter what?
Oh, dear one. How I Love you.
In those three words, I understand. I. Love. You. There is nowhere to deposit sin where it truly disappears. It can be handed from place to place and brokenness always finds its way back to me…maybe soon, maybe passed on to my children. There’s nowhere…except one place: Love. Perfect Love. The Love that keeps no record of wrong (1 Cor. 13:5). And what is Perfect Love? Or rather…who?
It’s Jesus. I see it so suddenly, so clearly that I fall to my knees with the gravity of what this means. It means that the only way to rid myself of this burden of sin and shame that I am carrying is to pour it as an offering onto Love Himself. A love offering.
So I have a problem, a difficult choice to make. Do I try to keep carrying this, try to function in my dysfunction with the weight of my sin still in my hands, or do I place it as death upon my Savior’s very being?
Jesus, Jesus, tell me how to choose.
Oh, dear one. Let Me tell you again…THIS IS MY DREAM. Please give it to Me.
I weep in His presence. I don’t want to do this to Him. My dearest Friend, the One who’s only ever always been everything to me. I don’t want to. He doesn’t deserve it. How can I possibly bear to see Him suffer my agony, suffer my guilt and shame? But really…there is nothing else to be done.
So I lift up my darkness and my depravity. I raise my mistakes and my shame. And with trembling hands and broken heart, I pour them onto Jesus.
I can see the scars they leave. I can see the lifeblood flowing out of His body. Sitting, watching, I hear Him cry, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachtani?
It is finished.
Sun lights up my heart. I turn, and there He is still. Looking at me with those eyes of purest Love. No blame. No shame. No condemnation. He takes my hand.
And He says, Thank you.
Dear dreamer-heart. Thank you. How you’ve asked so many times what My dream is…and it is this. Breaking the curse of sin and death. Redemption and restoration. My dream is relationship with you. This is the Gospel. And what is Gospel? It is My dream come true.
Oh precious Pearl. This Great-Price Gospel. Truly, is there anything more beautiful than this?
Oh my Jesus…thank You for the Gospel. Thank You for the beautiful, powerful, intimate, unbelievable perfection of it.
Now I run…run and run and run into this world with Your dream in my heart, the blood of Jesus pumping in my veins. Everyone needs to know this Love.
Dearest One, Your dream is my dream, too…
Thank You, Jesus. You’ve rescued me.
A Note: I don’t know about you, but I’ve been around this Christian stuff pretty much my whole life. I let Jesus into my heart when I was so young that I don’t even remember it. He was just always part of me. I didn’t fully understand all of these testimonies of people getting delivered from drugs and demons and adultery when they met Christ, because I was so lucky to have Him begin etching His character on me when I was little.
But the Gospel is the same power for every person, and for those of us who have known Him forever, well we have to encounter the weight and truth of the Gospel at some point, too...because the Gospel is Christ…and we can’t fully understand Christ without really experiencing the weight of what He did for us.
We who have been Christians since our youth often fall into a delusion that we are good people in and of ourselves, forgetting that it’s actually the grace of Christ within us that enables us to do anything good and right (see Philippians 2:13).
But oh, His dream is the Gospel, so He won’t let you miss it. For us, we the children of the faith, this means encountering our brokenness down the road at some point. For me, it was getting to a place in my life where I realized I absolutely could not carry all that had been entrusted to me…it was coming to a place where I was face-to-face with my sinful nature, with my own broken, busted-up heart.
When I encountered this depravity with glaring revelation, I knew I had to make a conscious choice to take my sin and put it on the Jesus of the Cross. And this broke me…this understanding that it was my sin that required His suffering and death…my sin that hung Him on that tree of agony. And I just kept saying, I’m sorry. Jesus, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry I did this to You.
And He responded to my heart that this is who He is, that He did this for me because of His great Love for me.
And with that, I was undone. With that, I truly understood the Gospel for the first time in my life. And now, I am daily undone by this greatest of all gifts.
This is God’s Dream.
As you're pondering God's dream, are you wondering where you fit into it or where you're at in the process of the dream He's deposited inside of you? Check out this FREE RESOURCE I've created for you: The Seasons of a Dream Cheat Sheet.