The things that we have done to Christianity disgust me most of the time. (And by me, this is Joni. If most of you haven't figured out Abe is not ever internet inclined, so most all updates will come from me.) So yeah, I've been reading Radical by David Platt and it has been very convicting and yet encouraging. You see, almost 5 years ago Abe and I decided to intentionally live our lives to make disciples of people who are extremely lost. People in desperate need of the saving blood of Jesus. Now there are some days, like the last couple, when people are just on my last nerve and I forget what I'm doing here.
Last night was the 2nd night in a row that I have been kept awake by my neighbors. You see, before I moved to the city the power going out was only annoying on one or two levels: you were hot from no A/C, you couldn't see to go to the bathroom at night, you thought the food in the fridge would ruin. Now that I reside in the city there is but one reason that the power should never ever go out at night: EVERYONE COMES OUTSIDE! Every time the power goes out on our street everyone comes out side and very loudly announces to everyone else that the power is out, as if the darkness weren't our first hint. So then, because there is no A/C, no TV, no music, no nothing - everyone stays outside.
The power went out last night at 10:30pm and didn't come back on until 7:30am. Needless to say, we got little to no sleep. By 5:000am it was hot, the guys outside had woken Zeke up and he couldn't go back to sleep for hearing them and sweating - so we got up and went to my mom's. In the hour of sleep I got at her house before we had to trek back down to church I had a very strange dream that I think God is using to teach me a serious lesson about loving my neighbors:
So Abe and I and Zeke were in this church, well, it looked more like a castle than a church. Sort of medieval, dark, a little spooky. But the people were your typical middle class church crowd: nice, friendly, well dressed. In the foyer of this castle church sat a large plastic barrel, you know, the kind that cheese puffs come in at places like Costco or Sam's. In the barrel was what appeared to be butterscotch pudding, nothing special. But they had a spotlight shining on it and giving it all the glory. On the front of the barrel it read, "Blood of Jesus". I was like, "What is wrong with these people? What in the world do they think this is supposed to represent??" I was becoming a bit hysterical, annoyed at the stupidity of anyone who would put up such a nonsensical display. So I had an ink pen and in typical Joni fashion was being disrespectful, poking it, writing on it, making fun, arguing over their obvious misunderstanding of Jesus. Abe told me to stop, told me I was being disrespectful and childish. But I wouldn't stop. I poked this barrel until I had poked a hole clean through it! And so of course, out came pouring all the pudding substance.
Suddenly the place was huge. The pudding ran all over the church, into the huge gymnasium and across the entire floor. The people at the church were very irrate that I had ruined their display representing the blood of Jesus in their church. But as the pudding kept running it ran onto some canvas they had laying out as they were preparing for a banquet. As the pudding ran onto the canvas it became like a rainbow of paint colors, weaving in and out of each other creating the most beautiful designs I had ever seen. I told the people to look how beautiful it had become. But they couldn't see it. They said, "No! It's not beautiful. The display was beautiful and you have ruined it!" I told them they should put up the canvas as banners in the gym and that the beauty of the colors could represent the blood of Jesus just the same. But they continued to hold fast to their display, they were angry and could not see the beauty the pudding had created on the canvas.
Then Abe woke me up.
So I know you are wondering, what does all this talk of pudding and canvas have to do with neighbors or books or anything for that matter?
Well, I think that what I've learned from my dream is that in my frustration and selfishness over wanting to sleep in silence, wanting people to be just how I want them to be, wanting my life to be just how I want it to be - I have forgotten the blood. I have put the blood of Jesus away just inside my heart and forgotten that it isn't beautiful, it isn't useful, it isn't anything more powerful than pudding until it is poured out.
I think Jesus wants me to remember that I am here to help continue the pouring out of His blood for the remission of not just my sin. But the sin of my neighbors and the sin of my friends and the sin of total strangers. I am hear to be a disciple and to make disciples.
Pray that I will be obedient.
