What it means

In preparation for outreach to South Africa (we leave in 3 days!!!!!) I have been thinking a lot about what the purpose is. What am I doing this for? What does God want to do through me? How does He want to change me and use me to serve these people? 

I was reminded of a story I wrote a few years ago, based on a dream I had. Here it is, dug out from the recesses of my documents. 

Rescuing Johnny

By Anna Jefferis

8/18/06

As inspired by two dreams

 

I walked up to the edge of the crowd.  Looking down into the flood of people I could see the arena and the platform on which the leaders and officials were standing to make an announcement.  At the back of the group of leaders was the queen.  She was clothed in black, red and pale grey like a spider, her crown coming down over her face and neck like a dark tattoo.   The crowd was murmuring about the "games" that were to begin.  The sacred games that were held every year. 

 

The queen stood up and made her way to the front of the stage. The crowd hushed.  Those who did not notice and were still talking were summoned to the back of the arena and were taken away.  The queen called for those who wished to be sacrificed in the name of the games - sacrificed to society.  There were 5 teams.  Orange, blue, green, yellow and purple.  The leaders called for people from the crowd to represent each team.  At least 15 people to each team.  150 came.  I watched in horror as people from all over the crowd robotically stood up, raising their hands to join the games.  Didn't they know what they were doing? I thought. They were being called to the slaughter by their leaders.  And they are going.

 

I slowly made my way to the edge of the arena to watch what was happening. The arena was huge and filled with water. An enormous pool 80 feet deep and 1/4 of a mile across. 

The teams had been formed.  A little girl I had met earlier that day was in the orange team.  My mouth dropped open as I saw that there were so many young children, possibly that couldn't even swim. 

They all streamed passed the officials and I got a glimpse of the deeper plot. The officials were giving each person a shot in the arm with a serum as they gave them their colored armband.  It was a drug.  It was despair.

 

After everyone had gotten their armband and shot they walked into the pool and were ordered to swim laps around it.  Many were gone after stepping in the pool because they couldn't even swim.  They had been given no choice led to their death by society.  I shook as I watched at the edge of the pool.  I had found one of my friends, an outsider like me from this cannibalistic society.  We stood there leaning over the arena wall watching, holding our breath, trying to figure this thing out.  All of the sudden I looked to see the thousands of people that had started the games had been dwindled down to a mere one hundred.  Where did they all go?! I saw them just a minute ago. "They are at the bottom of the pool", my friend replied. "They are making them swim 'till they drown.  The serum they gave them takes away their strength."

 

The few swimmers that were left were throwing things out of the pool to make room to swim.  Bodies were being franticly hurled over the side of the arena as they swimmers tried to keep their heads above water. A stick hit my head.  I looked to see who had thrown it.  I recognized the boy.  He had played for a volleyball team I was once on.  He had a glass eye.  He was an outcast, a nobody.  His name was Johnny and he was no more than 9 years old.  He smiled when he saw me and swam over to the side of the pool.  "It's a drug they gave us", he said with a faint and exhausted smile, "it will be over soon".  The hot tears rushed to my eyes.  How could this happen.  Who could do such a thing to this little boy I knew?  "You're going to be ok", I said over my tears, "Let's get you out of there".  My friend and I pulled him out of the pool and I held him up.  "I have to do this", Johnny said. "No you don't" I returned, "This is wrong.  You'll be ok now."  I put my arms around him and prayed for him.  I knew the drug was getting to him and that he wouldn't last long. "Dear God, take this son of Yours and hold his soul in Your hand.  Give him peace.  Keep him safe.  And let him fear no more." I could barely talk I was crying so hard now.  Johnny was so weak.  He was so innocent.  I pushed him up into the stands and held him, telling him everything would be ok. "I have to go back.  Come on Mommy." He called me Mommy! Oh! He called me Mommy.  He must not have a Mommy. I let the tears fall on his back as I held him close.  He held my finger in his little hand.  I didn't think there was anything to do but to hold him and pray for him 'till the drug took full effect and he was gone. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw a syringe.  It was bright and had been hidden in the corner.  It shown like the sun on ice.   It was the antidote to the drug of despair that society had given; it was "The Knowledge of Love".  I grabbed it and gave it to Johnny.  He had fallen asleep in my lap.  At least I was praying he was just sleeping.  Yes I could feel him breathing.  I gave him the antidote and felt him breath deeply.  A look of calm and peace came over his face.  He was safe.

 

I looked back out into the arena and saw so many more faces I recognized.  The cashier at Wal-mart.  The mechanic.  The lady across the street.  The greeter at church.  The kid that sits in the corner every week at youth group that no on ever talks to.  The kid that picked on me in phys. ed. when I was in elementary school.  The people that everyone recognizes but never speaks to.  The people that we ignore.  The misfits and odd balls.  The uncool, the broken. 

 

The least of these. I wept because I knew know what was going on.  The game, these sacred games of society was the way that they got rid of the unwanted.  The ritualistic sacrificing of human lives for the comfort of a few.  They were told that they were not loved and thus they could afford to be in the games.  But really that was not true.  They were valuable.  If it weren't for the forgotten ones the games would not go on. 

 

All these people needed was the knowledge that they were loved.  That someone knows their name and that they are not forgotten.  I knew I couldn't rescue them all, but I knew I had to love those that were left swimming around the arena, playing in the games of society - their lives on the line.  God had showed me how to rescue Johnny; I had to love the others too.  It was not a choice.  If I did not, who knows if anyone else would.  Perhaps I was the only one left in this world that knew their names.  Their very lives were on the line.  I was scared but I made my way back through the crowd.  Oh look I know her.....

 

We are all worth so much.  "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith" - 1 Peter 5:7-9a 

Satan wishes us all dead.  He will do whatever it takes to pull us down into despair and crush us under his fist.  Never let him tell you that you are worthless.  Only the opposite is true.  Be on your guard.  You life is on the line.  Run to God and hide your life in His hands, it will be safe there.

"Then the just and upright will answer Him, Lord, when did we see You hungry and gave You food, or thirsty and gave You something to drink? And when did we see You a stranger and welcomed and entertained You, or naked and clothed You? And when did we see You sick or in prison and came to visit You? And the King will reply to them, Truly I tell you, in so far as you did it for one of the least [^[k]in the estimation of men] of these My brethren, you did it for Me." - Matthew 25:37-40

"And He will reply to them, Solemnly I declare to you, in so far as you failed to do it for the least [^[m]in the estimation of men] of these, you failed to do it for Me." - Matthew 25:45

"And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me."" - Luke 22:19

Jesus talks about doing for the least of these.  Why did he do that?  Because He was one of the least of these.  He was an outcast, an oddball.  He asked during the last supper that we "remember me."  It breaks my heart to think that we could forget Christ.  But I do all the time.  Remember Jesus.  Remember the least of these.