My Christophany

This was the biggest event of my life. There were multiple life changing events during this night. All of which was overshadowed by the most important moment of my life.

The stage was set for me to renounce Jesus, but that is not what happened.

Waves of orchestrated turmoil had begun.

 I had been encapsulated, trapped in a circle of adults, fed a story about how Jesus was a dead philosopher. Which just sent me into witness mode. These people really needed him. But when, I tried to tell them that he was alive they started taking turns shaking me and yelling directly into my ears.

 “Stupid girl!” “Take it back!”  “I know you didn’t mean it.”

I tried to run. I had a good plan. Impressive for a six-year-old. But I was a tiny little girl. On my own I was powerless and trapped.

I was not on my own, not at all.

All of heaven spoke to me. I was told to call on him, say his name and that he would come, and the people would see him. Then, they would see the truth.

I mumbled his name several times and this circle of oppressors scattered. And there was a sound that came from the right corner of this decoy churches sanctuary. I sounded like a series of ten-ton metal doors slamming in a session. This display of power was as if lightning had stuck inside the building. Everything seems to have exploded but noting was burning or even overturned.

As I peeked up, My Champion, My Lord walked toward me.

There is just so much that the human body can feel. My eyes, ears, nose, and mouth could only go so far. That level of stimulus was almost forgettable. I balled up and hid my face.

My sprit took over the rest.  My spiritual ears heard a roar, as if the entire universe were wailing in pain. As if even the smallest particles of creation were set on edge and rumbling. Like creation could break at any moment.  There were multiple distinct voices, both male and female screaming “Don’t get dirty.” And many hearts wondered how many baths it would take to get him clean.

I was intensely aware that his feet touching the floor. There was something in the carpet, something I had been unaware of before. What ever it was seemed like spikes under his perfect feet. All the while I was on my knees and in a ball with my face touching the carpet at times and I had no concern about how the carpet would affect me in my imperfect state.  

He was just so pure, perfectly pure, and all powerful. Even vindication was pure in his hands. This was not something that could be debated. It was not held as a possibility. It was unmistakable.

As I remained balled up, he squatted down and rubbed my head and then my arms. He awed at me. And told me “We need to go.”  I knew that he was perfect and all powerful. But it was all just too much for me to process. I shook him off.

I have had to work to forgive myself for my reaction. But overtime, the shame has faded, and I am left with the knowledge what it is like to be in his presence. I live with less fear and a heart full of joy knowing that I will one day spend eternity with the perfect master of the universe.