God’s Gift
to Me at a Gravesite
When my
husband opened the blinds on the sliding glass door this morning, as usual, he
said, “Wow! Look at that sky.” So I did, as usual, look at the beautiful
morning. I am telling you about this scene from my life as a way of introducing
myself. I’m delighted to be writing to you and I would like to share how God
paints Himself into my day.
I begin this first Tuesday with a vision that I believe God
gave me to help me put some important Godly principles into perspective for me.
Years ago when I was a young mom with 3 young ones and a husband who was gone
for long stretches serving our country in the US Coast Guard I had a dream.
In my dream,
I was strolling along the street on a lovely spring morning. As I rounded a
corner, I saw a white blanket bunched up on the boulevard. Did I also hear a baby cry? Moving closer, I discovered it was a baby’s cry! I picked up the bundle and held it tightly to
my breast. The crying stopped. Moving a
corner of the blanket away, the crying began again, almost screaming! So I
brought it back to my breast, patting the blanket and speaking words of
comfort. Immediately the crying
stopped. This happened off and on until
I was exhausted and had to sit down. Why
would someone leave a baby like this?! I
was angry with the situation and sorrowful for the baby. I was also frustrated
as to what to do next.
Cars drive
by but take no notice of what is happening. I begin
yelling and waving to get their attention, but it was as if they couldn’t see or hear
me. Then I realized - they didn’t! They were going about their daily lives
unaware of me and my struggle. I fell
asleep rocking the fearful bundle.
When I awoke,
I felt strangely peaceful and rested.
The bundle was quiet. Something to the left caught my eye. I was sure it hadn’t been there before;
turning my head to get a clearer view, I saw the front yard of a house. A small grave looked like it had been
recently excavated; a pile of dirt was near the opening waiting to be replaced. A headstone was in place and on it, the name
“Self.”
Looking at
the scene, peace and release, yes, even anticipation, flowed through me. Then I
realized what God was revealing to me: if self and I weren’t separated, the
fullness of my life in Jesus wouldn’t happen.
As I laid the pleading, whimpering bundle into the grave, a voice
quietly said, “Its ok. This is meant to be.”
Walking home
I could hear the cry following me. It was reaching out to me and trying to draw
me back. How could I bury a part of myself?!! Isn’t that part of who God made
me to be? What have I done? The cry continues
over the years, sometimes whimpering, other times screaming. Self never gives
up; I was born with her presence, but,
I have also been born again - with a spirit of adoption! (See Romans
8:10-15). The once stronger “Flesh” can be quieted. Faith is now the stronger attitude. Listen!
Do you hear what I hear?
But I say, walk by the Spirit,
and you will
not carry out the desire of the flesh.
For the flesh sets its desire against the Spirit,
and the
Spirit against the flesh;
for these are in opposition to one another,
so that
you may not do the things that you please.
But
if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the Law.
Galatians 5:16-18 (New
American Standard Bible)
Oh, the
brush strokes in the Painter’s hand this morning? Blue sky, wispy, whimsical, streaks of white
feather-like clouds! His heart rejoices
when our hearts return His love (see Zephaniah 3:17).
Written by Sandy Schott
4-19-13
I am thinking about the many times I
have prayed countless prayers for months on end for a particular situation. It
appeared that nothing was changing on the outside and at times deep discouragement
would set in. I would grow weary and even question God why I was not seeing
answered prayer. But I knew in my heart I could not give up, and the Lord would
always come through and give me the courage and strength to keep
praying.
