This afternoon, old faithful, formerly known as my clock radio, invaded my naptime. Soft lyrics combined with melodious harmony relentlessly mocked my attempted rest. A light breeze brushing against the curtains allowed streams of sunlight to dance across the ceiling in tempo with the music. I defiantly turned away from the chorus of music and light, hoping to sleep just a little longer. Then, somewhere between depressed drowsiness and wide awake, I dreamed about a room filled with people…
Everything in the room was red - the carpet, walls, curtains and ceiling…all red. Small groups of people, dressed in various shades of red, filled every inch of the room. One group of these people huddled in a large circle. They focused on some kind of activity I could not see. Desperate to know what was going on, I decided to break into the center of their mysterious circle. I pushed and prodded my way through, dodging elbows and trying not to trip over my own feet. Once there, I witnessed a peculiar sight. I saw a small table, draped in red, carefully stacked with crystal saucers and teacups. A little girl standing on the opposite side of the table meticulously assembled this mountain of crystal. The people quietly watched as one after the other, she stacked. First a saucer, then a teacup, clink, clink, clink…
Finally, my last nerve shattered. I couldn’t take it any longer. Fearing the worst, I begged the little girl to stop.
“Don’t you understand?” I pleaded, only to be answered with the clinking of crystal as she continued her work.
“If you persist in this perilous activity, the crystal will topple to the ground and break into a million pieces.”
Then my worst fears happened. The saucers and teacups swayed, first to the left, then to the right. Then they toppled to the ground, and just as I predicted, they broke into a million pieces. My reaction was typical. I panicked.
“Why didn’t you listen to me?” I screamed. “I warned you this would happen.”
I knelt, trying to clean up the mess, but the crystal shards cut my hands. I looked around, hoping someone would come to my rescue, but nobody was there. Everyone was gone. I was alone.
“Oh God, help me.” I cried.
Then a still small voice whispered in my ear…”It’s about time you asked me for help.”
I relaxed; fully convinced the battle of cleaning up the broken pieces of crystal did not belong to me. The battle belonged to the Lord. Grace enveloped me and I fell into restful sleep.
Later, sweet praise music penetrated my heart with peace. I recognized the lyrics and began singing along. The music lured me away from the red room and the broken crystal. When I opened my eyes, I realized it was coming from old faithful, formerly known as my clock radio. I yawned, stretched my legs and decided naptime was over. The heaviness of depression faded with the dream and though broken pieces of my life were still scattered all around me, I knew the battle of cleaning it up…belonged to the Lord.
“The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."
(Exodus 14:14 NIV)
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