There I was, in the back of an old familiar church van, riding through what appeared to be the remains of a city in California. I wasn’t exactly sure why I was there, or who the other people were in the van, although I wasn’t afraid of them and I felt as though I was supposed to know them. My inkling was that we were a part of some sort of church group just trying to stay safe in the midst of all of the disaster, and execution from the government.
We were driving speedily, apparently on the run from someone (perhaps the government?), through the remains of a city’s streets. Cars were all over the place, apparently abandoned by their owners. Bridges were heaps of twisted metal, and there seemed to be huge cracks in the earth, blocking the road in places. What once was a road, seemed to be diminished to mere rubble.
Somehow, deep inside, I knew there was not much time left. Instinctively I knew that the rapture had already happened long before, and now there was only 2 days left until the “official end”, the battle of Armageddon. There wasn’t much time left for unbelievers to repent, and I needed so badly to get back to North Carolina to tell my family and friends before it was too late. I didn’t care if they didn’t believe me, and I didn’t care if they made fun of me for sharing my faith. The idea of persecution was irrelevant because my fate was sealed either way. Live or die, this was the end.
Panic began to set in as I realized that I may never see loved ones again if they didn’t choose to repent before it was too late….. And then…..
I woke up.
Well there you have it; my first of many “dooms-day” dreams. This is the one that marked the beginning for me. While I had become a Christian several years before, I had spent the last few, in particular, living for myself. I put aside everything God had planned for me, and while deep down I felt guilty about it I kept telling myself, “eh, I’ll live for God later… There’s plenty of time.” But this was a real eye opener, I realized that day just how much of an utter failure I was.
I spent a lot of time comparing myself to others in order to make myself feel better about it, “well I’m still a lot better of a person than they are…” Growing up I was always like a little old person trapped in a young person’s body. I was so much more mature. I never partied, drank, smoked… Somehow I finally came to realize that I was comparing myself to the wrong people. Ultimately, when I compared myself to God I was an utter disappointment. My marriage had fallen apart and I was a mess. Looking back, if I had lived what God had planned for me things would have been so much different, and better. But I didn’t, and I learned the hard way. I also learned that I had a lot more growing up to do than I thought (and I still do), and there is nothing more important than a human soul. If I can’t witness to a friend because I am afraid of what they will think of me, I have jeopardized the possibility that he/she might find eternal life.
What a shame it is to live according to the standards of others instead of God’s…. What a shame it is to live for the flesh instead of the spirit. And I should add that it should not be the end of the world for us to feel the need to witness to our friends, because every day is not a guarantee.