I have a history of going to the world for comfort instead of Jesus. Whenever stuff goes badly and I need to be healed, I have found myself drawn to the world, to unhealthy, sinful ways of seeking comfort. Even when I recognise this problem and am aware of it, I still repeatedly fall into difficulty.
Last month I had a miscarriage, and it's been really tough. This time around, I have been focusing on consciously choosing to go to God for comfort and healing instead of the world. I have also been asking God what it meant to be comforted by him. What does that mean? And I can't really say it's a vision, but rather a story that developed in my head, a picture of Jesus that was an answer to that question for me. A picture that I go back to as a reminder of who Jesus is and what it means to be saved by him. I think sometimes we forget how large God is, we can't really fit him into our small human mind.
Disclaimer: This is a story, it's not meant to be entirely scripturally sound, or a complete, accurate representation of Jesus, although it lines up with most of my beliefs.
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I'm in a concrete room. It's cold and dark and empty - there's no furniture. The only feature of the room are these large windows which look over this ruined city. The room is in a skyscraper, and you can look over the city for miles, it's just miles and miles of burning ruins that once were city. And from the ruins you can hear agonising screams of people. It's the worst thing I've ever heard.
I'm cold and filthy, and covered in blood and mud and who knows what else. I hear a noise, and turn to the door to see creatures come into the room. They're horrific and gross and deformed. And they crowd toward me, forcing me into the corner where I hide. They are like vultures circling their pray. I'm absolutely terrified, I expect them to pounce on me at any moment.
And suddenly, the windows burst open and this bright light comes through. I know it's Jesus even though I've never seen him before. He's huge and strong and perfectly clean. His clothes are pure white and he looks at me with these gentle eyes that I know I don't deserve. He comes over - the creatures are long gone now - and I don't want him to touch me. I am so dirty and he is so clean. I tell him so, I say that he shouldn't touch me because I've got blood on me and he's so clean and I don't want to mess his cleanliness up. And he doesn't care, he takes his jacket off and wraps it around me and picks me up and I can see I'm getting him dirty. He jumps out the window with me in his arms. And he's warm and comfortable and I feel tiny next to him. All my feelings of terror are replaced with relief and safety. I should be afraid because I'm miles above the city in the air with him, but I'm not.
So I notice that he doesn't have wings, and I ask him about that. Which is a weird thing to think about when you're flying through the air with the saviour of the universe. And he shrugs and says that wings are for angels. We're now flying over the city, and you can hear the screams of the people down below.
"Is this hell?" I ask him.
"No, it's hell's waiting room". He replies. "It's where souls go before they go to hell."
"Do you rescue all of your children from here?"
"I come to fetch every single one". We're higher now, into the clouds, and the sounds from below are growing softer.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask, stupidly. I know the answer, but I still want to hear what he says.
"I'm taking you home."
Last month I had a miscarriage, and it's been really tough. This time around, I have been focusing on consciously choosing to go to God for comfort and healing instead of the world. I have also been asking God what it meant to be comforted by him. What does that mean? And I can't really say it's a vision, but rather a story that developed in my head, a picture of Jesus that was an answer to that question for me. A picture that I go back to as a reminder of who Jesus is and what it means to be saved by him. I think sometimes we forget how large God is, we can't really fit him into our small human mind.
Disclaimer: This is a story, it's not meant to be entirely scripturally sound, or a complete, accurate representation of Jesus, although it lines up with most of my beliefs.
---
I'm in a concrete room. It's cold and dark and empty - there's no furniture. The only feature of the room are these large windows which look over this ruined city. The room is in a skyscraper, and you can look over the city for miles, it's just miles and miles of burning ruins that once were city. And from the ruins you can hear agonising screams of people. It's the worst thing I've ever heard.
I'm cold and filthy, and covered in blood and mud and who knows what else. I hear a noise, and turn to the door to see creatures come into the room. They're horrific and gross and deformed. And they crowd toward me, forcing me into the corner where I hide. They are like vultures circling their pray. I'm absolutely terrified, I expect them to pounce on me at any moment.
And suddenly, the windows burst open and this bright light comes through. I know it's Jesus even though I've never seen him before. He's huge and strong and perfectly clean. His clothes are pure white and he looks at me with these gentle eyes that I know I don't deserve. He comes over - the creatures are long gone now - and I don't want him to touch me. I am so dirty and he is so clean. I tell him so, I say that he shouldn't touch me because I've got blood on me and he's so clean and I don't want to mess his cleanliness up. And he doesn't care, he takes his jacket off and wraps it around me and picks me up and I can see I'm getting him dirty. He jumps out the window with me in his arms. And he's warm and comfortable and I feel tiny next to him. All my feelings of terror are replaced with relief and safety. I should be afraid because I'm miles above the city in the air with him, but I'm not.
So I notice that he doesn't have wings, and I ask him about that. Which is a weird thing to think about when you're flying through the air with the saviour of the universe. And he shrugs and says that wings are for angels. We're now flying over the city, and you can hear the screams of the people down below.
"Is this hell?" I ask him.
"No, it's hell's waiting room". He replies. "It's where souls go before they go to hell."
"Do you rescue all of your children from here?"
"I come to fetch every single one". We're higher now, into the clouds, and the sounds from below are growing softer.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask, stupidly. I know the answer, but I still want to hear what he says.
"I'm taking you home."
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