Freedom from the dome

Bear with me for a bit as I meander down the river. We’re going to hit the bank a couple of times as we move along, but I believe we’ll arrive safe and sound.

First of all, yesterday morning as I walked up to my church, I greeted a woman who’s been a faithful member for years. I respect her because she’s sensitive to the Holy Spirit and very practical all at the same time. She asked me, “What were you doing this morning before you got here?”

I told her, “Well, I fed some cats, ate breakfast, and scooped some litter pans.”

She pressed in. “Were you worshipping?”

I said, “As a matter of fact, I was singing out a prayer to God on the way here.”

She nodded and said, “I can tell you’ve been in His presence. It’s all over you.”

Well, let’s backtrack. As I was driving to church, some “same old hurts” that have nagged me recently were throttling me again, insisting I rehash how wrong “those people” were. And as I prayed about it, I seemed to be hitting a wall.

Let me tell you what that wall was like. Have you seen the commercials for the new TV show coming soon called “Under the Dome”? I can’t vouch for the program—probably won’t watch it—but what I was experiencing reminded me of constantly running into a clear, thick dome around me, keeping me stuck in rehash-mode. It was time to break that thing down.

So I did what I often do—I started praying to the tune of whatever song bubbled up first. This time it was to the tune of “It’s So Good to Trust in Jesus”, and I sang to forgive, once and for all, “those people”. As I sang, I acknowledged their humanness to God and also acknowledged that they were not Him—couldn’t read my mind or even have any idea how I felt. And I felt compassion rise up in me for them and realized I needed God’s forgiveness just as much as they did, because I had clung to a hurt I had no business clinging to.

And then I arrived at church, parked in the lot, and walked up and greeted that dear woman who said, “You’ve been in the presence of God. It’s all over you.”

A few thoughts:

1.  God is the help of our countenance.  I imagine He wouldn’t have been able to help my countenance yesterday morning, though, if I hadn’t crashed through the dome that was keeping me under lockdown.

2.  I am an epistle—a letter—read by others. Even though folks can’t read my mind—only God has that ability or right—they can read my prevailing mood and spirit. They can read if I am weighed down or if I’m free from care. They may not know what the weights are or how I came to be free, but they can read me like a meteorologist can read a barometer. And they can read you, too.

3.  It’s time for you to deal a breaking blow to the dome of rehashed hurts that has been holding you captive. Next time “those people” start dominating your thoughts with all the wrongs they’ve done to you, aggressively forgive them. Acknowledge their humanness and—since they aren’t God—their inability to read your mind, and release them once and for all.  Pray it, sing it, shout it, whisper it, cry it. Do whatever you have to do to crash through that thing. And as you do it,  don’t forget to ask for forgiveness for yourself for setting up camp under that dome—the dome of rehashed hurts.

May you find help for your countenance and freedom from the dome!

Dorothy