Grief

My children and I were at a local fast food joint when a good friend of mine caught my attention and we began to chat. Pausing in the conversation to check on my children, I realized my 2 year old daughter was no longer with me. Frantically I looked around and spotted her running in the middle of the street. Without hesitation I ran after her as fast as I could, screaming her name. Before I could get to her a car plowed into her and drug her down the road. Screaming I ran after her. When I finally got to my baby she was lying face up, her little body mangled and bleeding to death, her face ashen as the life drained out of her. Her big blue eyes gazed into mine as I began to command life back into her. I rebuked the spirit of death and pleaded with God for a miracle...but there, in the middle of the street, in a matter of seconds, my youngest daughter died.

I awoke from that hellish dream sobbing from the very depth of me. Though it was only a nightmare it felt so real. The bottom had fallen out of my world and I couldn't pray. I couldn't shake myself out of that sense of absolute helplessness. The emotional pain shook me to the core. My husband, startled out of his sleep prayed for me. After some time I finally drifted off to sleep, but to this day (about 4 years later) the memory of that dream still paralyzes me.

Tonight, after Bible Study, the dream surfaced again. Usually I try to quickly put it out of my head but this time I let the memories come. This time God spoke.

That horrible dream was not from the devil, as I had assumed but God. My daughter was no different than the countless souls that reject Jesus Christ. Just like a two year old playing on a busy street, they have no sense of the danger that exists. They go about their lives not realizing that hell looms in their very near future...and it's forever. Those who reject Jesus truly do not know what they do.

Just as I ran down the road screaming in terror for my daughter,God runs after the lost...after every backslider. He begs and pleads, through everyone who will share the gospel, for the sinner to repent lest they suffer judgement. Just as my daughter was fatally struck down, the unbeliever will also be struck down. As the life drains from them God will look on each one overcome with unspeakable grief, helplessly unable to save them...from their own free will.

The gravity of what God showed me weighed on my heart. I don't grieve over the lost souls of my friends who turned their backs on God. Oh I care, but usually I'm just mad that they made such a stupid decision. I'm angry that they spent so little time in prayer, or wouldn't be transparent and open up. I get disgusted at their selfishness and frankly would like to slap some sense into them.

God is in love with every lost soul. He loves them enough to give them the freedom to choose. He loves them as they spit on the death of His son. He loves everyone in hell. I do not.

I do, however, love my daughter, so I asked the Holy Spirit to never let me forget that dream. I may never feel the depth of God's sorrow but by His mercy He has given me a glimpse into the pain in His heart. May that propel me to do all that is in my power to keep a soul from hell, that I may bring joy to His ever grieving heart.

The Lord hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.

Is 31:3

Stay in Prayer and in the Word.

Love in Our Lord,

Lauren