I made my way quickly down the cobblestone path and through the picture perfect little wooden gated fence. Pulling my coat around me tighter and straightening my beanie, I knocked on the door. I couldn’t even remember how I had met the little old man with the kind eyes but I was thankful for his invitation to come over for a visit and enjoy a home cooked meal.
A short while later after some shuffling, the door swung open and the kind eyed, silver haired man greeted me with a warm smile and welcomed me into his home. I was immediately greeted by the smell of fresh made bread and with a grandfatherly air, the older gentleman chuckled at my enthusiasm as I threw off my coat and shed my beanie, rubbing my hands together and smelling at the air, looking forward to the meal and thankful for the privilege of sitting with this well of stories and wisdom.
He made his way into the kitchen, beckoning me to follow him. Only a few steps behind him, he turned to tell me that he had to take some up to his wife and assist her, as she was on bed rest and that I was welcome to keep them company and we could enjoy our meal together.
I grabbed a bowl of steaming potato soup and some extra napkins and followed after him up the stairs and through the door to a dimly lit room. I didn’t know exactly what was wrong but I heard no response to the man’s greeting of his wife and wasn’t sure it was appropriate to be there but decided his invitation granted me access to this vulnerable moment. I placed my bowl down on the desk and turned to sit and as my eyes focused, I was shocked. I sat down hard on the chair and couldn’t turn my eyes. I was horrified to watch this man feed a skeleton, something that all traces of life had been lost a long time ago and what was left was bones. It was clear that the woman had passed away as the soup he was spooning into her mouth ran out of the skeletal holes and down onto the bedsheets.
I woke up all of a sudden, the room coming into focus, remembering I was in Baños, Ecuador, staring up into the ceiling and trying to grasp what I had just dreamt and I heard God speak very clearly.
“Don’t feed the dead things, Destiny.”
To me, this speaks of giving precious things to seasons past. It reminds me that “everything is beautiful in it’s time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11) but that also means that there is a unattractiveness or dare I say, even dishonorable, time for things. It reminds me not to give thought space or my time to things that are dead or to circumstance or people etc. whose season in my life is over. It reminds me not to dwell on lies or insecurities or opinions that sow death into my life. It urges me to let go of the past and push into the future. It persuades me to not create amazing, beautiful things that are supposed to bring myself and others life and then feed them to areas in my heart that have long since rotted and expired.
What about you? What do you need to let go of to fully engage in the season you are in now? What are you feeding that you need to let go of and grieve to move forward and on?
