The night darkness surrounded me completely. I could only feel the rocky ground beneath my feet and the steady sound of a drop of water hitting the ground in the silence. I wondered what the sound was, as I made my way toward it in an upward climb. My clothes felt like a long robe or trench coat type of garment, weighted down with many objects in the pockets. I couldn't see enough in the darkness to even make out what I was wearing. Step after step, I climbed upward on the rocky slope toward the sound of the droplets. The air was still and silent, except the steady beat of the drops, a few seconds between each one. I felt my way along with my feet until I reached a plateau of sorts. The dripping sound became louder and closer.
I sensed something was directly in front of me, but I could not make out any shape in the night. As I drew closer to the sound, I felt the need to fall to my knees. A voice, whether it was in my own head or if it was an actual voice I do not know, told me to reach in my pocket. My hand found a small, hard box, almost as heavy as a stone. As I pulled it out and closer to my face, I could make out a word. The word was one that described one of the most horrible things that I have ever done in my life. The word is to horrible to even type on this page as I write this account. I moved the box to the ground as close to the dripping sound as I could. As the box lay there before me, for the first time I could see the drip of red liquid. The drop splashed gently onto the little box, and in what seemed like a second or maybe a lifetime, the box vanished before my eyes. It was gone, just simply gone. My heart raced at the thought of it. Is it possible that "it" was really gone? I felt a little lighter as I again reached in my pocket. I found yet another box with another crime I had committed, clearly carved into the top. Again, the box disappeared as the red droplet splashed down. It seemed like an eternity had gone by, as I emptied dozens and dozens of boxes from the pockets of my garment. Each box held a name of the crimes I had been guilty of during my 32 years. Each box disappearing, disintegrating into oblivion with the steady drips in front of me. As I watched the last box disappear, the air began to lighten. I cautiously raised my eyes to the source of the drips to see His feet just above my head directly in front of me. A slow trickle of blood running down the outer part of His leg, pooling there for a moment and then a steady drop onto the rocky ground below Him. I fell forward onto my face, laying before Him, below the cross.
I don't know how much time went by as I laid beneath Him. I may have fallen asleep for five minutes or five hours. When I awoke, He was gone. The darkness had fleeted, and the sky was clear, crisp and blue. I was alone on the rocky hillside dressed in some type of white garment. My dark overcoat or robe that I wore earlier was gone. I reached into the pocket of this new garment, to find a pure, bright, sparkling piece of white paper that held my name. Just below my name was written in crimson, "Washed by the Blood of the Lamb".
That is all I remembered when I woke in my own bed the next morning. It was a dream beyond any dream that has ever danced in my head during my sleep. It was a dream that I have never forgotten. It was a dream that has defined my life from that day forward. I was washed. I was clean. The sins of my life turned to dust with one touch of His blood. Thank you Lord for showing me in a very literal way the awesome grace you have bestowed on me. It has been more then twelve years since that moment. I now live my life free of the guilt and the shame. I am free of my shackles.
My "white" garment continues to get stained with my sin and mistakes. I will never be sin free or perfect. However, if I return to the cross whenever I get a new box of shame in my pocket, it will always disappear with one drop of His blood. What an Amazing Grace.
*Please see the video below, Sweetly Broken by Jeremy Riddle. The words to this song are exactly what I envision whenever I think about this dream.
Sweetly Broken. The perfect song for this dream.
Welcome to the Potter's Wheel! We are so glad to have you stop by! Although one may be tempted to think you are on a blog about pottery, don't let the title fool you! This is a collection, a chronicle so to speak, of my world as a piece of lumpy clay on the crazy spinning wheel of The Potter. It is my view, as I see it, while spinning wildly in what sometimes feels like an out of control ride at the county fair. Although it appears that way to me and to the casual observer, the wheel is under the full control and guidance of the One. The One who can take a lumpy piece of clay and eventually turn it in to something beautiful in His eyes. My stories will cover so many topics that I have tried to break them down in an easy manner with the tabs below. Look down now!!!! You will find tabs that cover FAITH, FAMILY, CANCER, HOMESCHOOLING, KIDS ACTIVITIES, AND ADVENTURES ON THE ROAD. The posts are best read under the guise of each tab instead of in chronological order. It is part of my LUMPY ADHD, so you will have to deal with it! I hope that something I write will provide you with a "golden nugget" to put in your pocket for your own journey. Get out your motion sickness pills...It is going to be a crazy ride.
Love ya, Lumpy
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