The next morning I felt compelled to share with some leaders about a dream I recently had: a man casually approached me with a non‐threatening butter knife and silently proceeded to slit my throat without any defensive struggle from me. I simply felt the blood drain from my body until I died—which actually felt like freedom, seemingly impossible for me to find elsewhere. Interpreting the dream, they helped me understand the conniving ways of the enemy who comes to “steal, kill and destroy” (John 10:10). They explained that I was passively allowing the enemy to do just that, while he too desired to silence my voice (by cutting my vocal cords) so that I could not call for help. But why was I so passive, just allowing the enemy to have his way? I was desperate to know!
Since I had arrived at the retreat, I felt a pressing in my spirit, God’s relentless whisper: “Just say ‘yes’ to me.” In my passive fear, I could not comply. But moments after I shared with the leaders about the dream and how ready I was to throw in the towel, the song “Trading my Sorrows” began to play, with the repeating chorus, “Yes, Lord, Yes, Lord, Yes, Yes, Lord!”
Although clearly not a coincidence, I was not amused. Instead, indignant, sarcastic, but with a glimmer of possibility, I thought, “OK, fine, Yes, Lord! NOW WHAT?”
Well, God was not amused either. He knew my “yes” didn’t really mean “yes.” So He made no response. No word. No spirit. No change. Nothing. But I knew why. I wasn’t kidding myself. I just didn’t know how to say “yes” and mean it…yet…
One layer at a time, I opened myself up to trust in the care I was receiving. In doing so, I realized I had made an inner vow. In 2008 my husband and I suffered a devastating hurt, the worst betrayal and loss we’d both ever experienced in our lives. So at that time, the culmination of a lifetime of abuse, disappointment and anger caused me to vow never to be hurt like that again. I did not know that the Bible tells us never to make such vows in Matthew 5: 34-37:
But I tell you, Do not bind yourselves by an oath at all: either by heaven, for it is the throne of God; Or by the earth, for it is the footstool of His feet; or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King. And do not swear by your head, for you are not able to make a single hair white or black. Let your “Yes” be simply “Yes,” and your “No” be simply “No”; anything more than that comes from the evil one.
In a prayer vision, the Lord showed me that this vow took on the form of an ancient stone castle’s iron gate—I had closed the gate over my heart of stone to keep all others out. Unfortunately, the gate also kept God out while shutting in all the pain. Since the gate had been sealed, I had simply been going through the motions of life, relationships and so‐called faith without any element of honesty. Stone cold, I was no longer real; I had, indeed, reverted to living a double life, hiding my true self and allowing others to see only the exterior mask I wore. The real me was trapped inside this castle, a self-contained civil war designed by the enemy. And it was becoming a black hole of anger and regret, capable of consuming me entirely.
As the weekend progressed, God presented me with a new choice to make: let the pain behind the gate destroy me as it collapses on itself, or let Jesus through the gate, into my heart to purify and heal me. Saturday night of the retreat was now upon me, bringing Sunday ever closer—would I go back to the same dead‐woman walking, or would I really choose to live?
To be continued.
The Art of Choosing True Life 