Their voices seep through the walls, into the bedroom. In a panic I shoot up in my bed and scramble to locate my clothes on the floor. Fear floods my body as the door suddenly flies open. They storm in, surrounding my bed, and hurl insults at me. Before I can utter a word they grab me and drag me outside, clothed in merely the sheet I pulled off of the bed with me. I am dragged into a crowd of people who gaze at me with pure hatred. They toss me to the ground, as if I am nothing more than a piece of garbage, continuing to speak death over me. Their words cut me to my bones. I lay on the ground trembling, sinking deeper and deeper into my sheet. Then I see the stones. The stones curled tightly in their fists and I know what they plan to do. Pride fills my body as I muster up every ounce of my strength and sit up. Dignity. I want to keep whatever small sliver of dignity I may still have I think to myself as I try to fake a brave face. I refuse to let them see the depths to which they are hurting me.
Then I see Him.
I Him approaching and my small sliver of dignity vanishes. As He makes His way through the crowd, they fall silent. I pull the sheet up higher and tighter around my body, wishing I could disappear into it. With each step He takes my heart beats harder in my chest. Why is He here? He cannot see me like this. How do I explain this? How can I fix this? Frantically I look around for a gap in the mass of people but see none. He needs to leave. I cannot let Him watch what is about to happen. I can barely breathe. I can barely think. My head spins in circles as I continue to frantically look for any possible way out, for any possible way to hide from Him.
Then, then it is too late. He is standing over me.
A deeper level of shame than I had ever fathomed floods my body. I cast my face down, I cannot even bare the thought of looking at Him. After a moment He takes a few steps away. My heart breaks as I realize the direction that He is walking. I cringe at the thought of Him joining the crowd, the thought of a stone in His hand. Even Him? Even He has turned against me? Even He has left me? Even He is done with me? Even He thinks the same horrible things about me?
Then, nothing. Nothing is happening.
Why is it taking so long? Why do they prolong my suffering? How can they be so cruel? Then it hits me. It is too quiet. I slowly lift my head. Where are they? The crowd has vanished. Where did they all go? I pull myself up so that I am sitting and look around. I find His tender eyes. He is standing a few feet away next to a line that has been drawn in the sand, stick in hand. He drops the stick and walks over to me. His hand gently cups my face. He looks down upon me with a love that I do not understand. Suddenly tears well up in His eyes.
He turns and points back towards the line that He had drawn. Assuming that the crowd has returned I quickly lift my eyes. Fear consumes me once more. There is no mass of people. No crowd with fists full of stones. Just one person. One lone person standing in front of the line.
Then I realize, it is me.
In a panicked confusion I look at Him. He begins to weep. I am breaking His heart. I want to yell at this other version of me. To beg myself to put down the stone and walk away, but my voice is gone. I want to run to myself and take the stone out of my hand, but I cannot move. He looks at be one more time and tells me, in His sweet voice, that He loves me. Then He takes two steps and stands in front of me. He braces Himself for what is to come as the other version of me lifts her arm, preparing to throw her stone…
I wake up, breathless, to find that I am still in my bedroom in India. It was a dream.
In this dream I was the woman caught in adultery that John describes in chapter eight verses one through eleven. The “He” of my dream was Jesus. In the bible the religious leaders of the time brought a woman that they had caught in adultery before Jesus. At the time the punishment for this crime was to be stoned to death. The religious rulers asked Jesus what He thought of the situation. Jesus said nothing, but simply bent down and drew in the sand. The religious rulers would not leave Jesus alone and kept asking Him what He thought should be done with the woman. Jesus stood and said, “let anyone of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (v. 7). Slowly, the crowd disbursed until Jesus was the only one left. He looked at the woman and asked her who was left to condemn her. When she replied that there was no one, Jesus replied by telling her that He did not condemn her either (John 8:1-11 NIV).
What is the significance of this dream and why do I feel prompted to share this with you?
For the vast majority of my Christian life I have had an easy time believing and understanding that the Lord’s grace covers the sins of others. When it comes to myself, however, I often forget that the same grace the Lord extends to you is extended to me, thanks to the sacrifice Jesus made for us on the cross. I have become quick to give grace to those around me, but I withhold grace from myself. When I sin, when I fall short, when I make a decision that hurts those around me, when I disappoint my loved ones- I hold onto it. I am slow to forgive myself. I replay my mistakes in my head and sit in my shame.
In my dream I was the only one who remained to condemn myself. I saw the way that it broke Jesus’s heart, as He stood over me weeping. It was as if He could not believe that I would do that to myself. Jesus looked at me with nothing, but love. Then He stepped in front of me, ready to take the impact of the stones, rather than letting them hit me. WOW. To have a visual of the depth of the love the Lord has for me. To have a visual of the pain that it causes the Lord when I allow myself to condemn myself. To have a visual of the sacrifice the Lord is willing to make for me. Thank you Jesus!!! When I woke up I heard the Lord whisper those words to me. “My grace is sufficient, even for you Bekah.”
Want to know the best part? This same grace that the Lord extends to me, is extended to you. In the same way that it breaks the Lord’s heart when I condemn myself, it breaks His heart when you condemn yourself. The same way that Jesus loving looked on me, He looks on you. The same love He extends me, He extends to you. There is nothing that you have ever done or could ever do that will make Jesus love you any more or any less. You are His beloved child! Not only are you worth dying for, it has already happened! “It is finished!” My prayer is that in reading this you will be reminded of the love and grace that the Lord pours out for you. That if you, like I do, struggle to believe His grace is sufficient even for you, that the Lord would break you free. Free from shame, free from fear, free from your own condemnation.
All my love,
Bekah
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9
