I recalled that last March I journaled about a dream. I share that here first before the poem the Lord will pour out:
Lord, You gave me an ongoing dream through the early morning hours. People were being sorted by age, usefulness, health, etc. Then group by group, each person would speak their name. If they had multiple word names they would speak only the first, then the next person would speak - this was round one for the group. Next round, the next name would be spoken, and so on. Once someone had spoken their final name, they were made to walk through something like a large picture frame that contained some kind of invisible force that would not only kill them, but cause them to disappear completely. When group one was gone, it was time for the next, and the next, etc.Step through, step in
I thought perhaps the dream was a call to prayer about nations that are moving toward and legislating euthenasia, where anyone less that perfect could be chosen for death. But I sensed in the dream that even the "perfect ones" would be walking through this death field, even if they were the last group to go through.
So I ask Lord, is this a picture to remind me to "die to me"?
Think of all the names you carry, little one. Not just your given name, but labels; words both of praise and judgement; the things you call yourself. Smart. Shameful. Creative. Ugly. Determined. Unworthy.
Yes, the list is long. In your dream, as the words are verbalized, one by one, they are gone. All that you think, shapes you. And finally, as the last is relinquished you are able to walk through, death to self. I know in your dream you could only see the death, the ending, the disappearance of self. You could not see what life in Me will look like for you cannot yet imagine.
Go back to My Word. Back to Colossians 3 again, where I tell you how to live after you die. My Word will serve you well.
Thank You, Lord - I shall go there now. Colossians 3:3 says I died and am hidden in You. Hidden, so is that why I could not see the people after they stepped through the frame?
the door is open
for I have been knocking
long and low
and all who hear
Drop your chains
all the names
that hold you.
Hidden in Me
what the world cannot see
what the world does not know
so afraid to let go.
It's freedom that waits
the promise of place
secret and safe.
The door is open
please come inside
at last, abide.
Stop by Jason's Connecting to Impact for more warrior poetry