It has been a difficult couple of months. August, September, and October brought many memories of pain and loss. Charlie Kirk’s assassination flooded me with deep recollections of my widowhood at age 31 when I was left to raise two children. That was over four decades ago September 16, but it came back to my heart like yesterday. My fourth book, Itching Ears Hear and Wandering Eyes See, published August 8 in memory of my brother, evoked memories of his death, and of my second husband’s struggles and death 14 years ago October 9.
Like hundreds of times before, I awoke September 23 dreaming. Most dreams hold little meaning, while some may hold meaning beyond my understanding. On this day I awoke at 6:30. By 7:00 the full import of what I had dreamt was evident to me and to God’s glory. Life holds heartache for everyone. Some people deal with tribulation better than others, but their pain is no less. In this dream, I was with another person. I am not sure if it was a man or a woman, but who it was matters little to the story, except that I was not alone. We were upset by the suffering of those we were called to serve. No matter our efforts, conditions did not improve. At best, things remained constant. In my dream, I felt the stress and absolute hopelessness of the situation. We were compelled to contact anyone we thought could help, but all attempts to procure assistance proved useless. Ultimately, I called the person at the top, Dr. Mc******* and pleaded for every means available, and more, to be used to assist those in dire need. After what seemed like a five-minute debate, I was told to wait on the line. I was hopeful for what might come.
I waited expectantly for what seemed like an hour. Then, unexpectedly, a male voice said, “This is the end of things,” and the phone went dead. I was shocked. Whether this was a way to get rid of us—the problem—or whether it was a cryptic message, I do not know. I expected that this person might provide hope for those needing it. Instead, I felt cut off, discarded. Those who needed answers would never receive them. Did this message mean that nothing further could be done? Was it the end of any connection to those in charge? Would they have nothing to do with me and my coworkers, or those in need? Would we receive harsh consequences? Perhaps it was an indication of something much heavier, like the end of the world, especially with recent hype of a rapture or Jesus returning September 23 or 24. Yet this cannot explain the response given. We will not know the day or the hour of any end of things event. The Bible tells us this.
What I realized by 7:00 is that there is a monumental difference in dealing with pain, suffering, and death for faithful Christians. Pain is unavoidable. In recent decades, the relative peace known during the second half of the twentieth century has degenerated into anarchy with little common sense. My work in prison and with the homeless has brought one major truth to bear. There are palpable differences in bearing suffering and death for those who trust Jesus and believe the Bible is God’s Word, compared to those who do not. Any offer of help outside of God is merely a fluctuating process. If there is no authentic relationship with God, there can be no real love or hope of a better future because His love and truth are perfect and constant. Help outside of God is of the world and fluctuates with it. Increasingly alarming world events and family troubles bring Christians into greater contemplation and prayer which pleases God. Those in Christ work in the power of the Holy Spirit to be in God’s will which is the beginning of all things everlasting. Our help comes not from the world—it is spiritual, of God, and eternal.
