~Open the eyes of my heart Lord!~







Sunday, February 28, 2010

Thin Places-my story

Today at church, our pastor gave an awesome sermon, as he always does. It was about "thin places", where the space between God and humans has "thinned out", where we can almost see Him through the veil of time and space, and whatever else is in the way. It made me remember a dream I had a long time ago, a dream I think of often, but today I was able to see, that it was a "thin place".

My grandfather was a wonderful man. Grandpa Hinders was a Christian, but that's not saying enough about his faith. He was a man who ate, slept and breathed the words of God. He talked about Jesus constantly, and lived his life the way God tells us to live. He was the MOST Christian person I have ever met. He is the one who shaped my faith, more than anyone else could ever do, and has ever done.
My Grandpa had a love for gardening that I inherited. I love growing everything, as did he. He was a farmer, a hunter, a trapper, a self-sustaining person who could do anything. My Grandpa's garden was surrounded by these beautiful hollyhocks. He loved hollyhocks.

My dad wasn't much of a father figure for me.   My Grandpa was my father figure, only I didn't know it then. He was the one who taught me about life, what was important, what wasn't, and how people need to live and act if they want to have Jesus in their lives. If I could have, I would have lived there. Grandpa told me stories, sang hymns to me, played games with me, and showed me I was loved. And I loved him so much.
Grandpa died when I was 17. He suffered for years before that though, a series of strokes left him an empty shell, and it was so hard for me, I couldn't even go to the hospital to see him. It was terrible, Grandpa was such a God-fearing man, why would God have him suffer that way? Maybe I blamed God, maybe it was just too hard of a blow for me, but I seldom went to church after that. I think when I lost Grandpa, I lost the way. I mean, I still believed in God, but just believing in God doesn't get you into heaven. It would have broke Grandpa's heart to know that's how it ended up for me.

I'm not sure how long it was after Grandpa's death, but I had this dream:

I was sitting on a set of bleachers, like at a 4-H camp, or a small rodeo type setting at a county fair. The bleachers went almost all the way around a small gravel lot, in a circle. I was there alone, it was totally silent. There was a slight breeze maybe, I don't remember, but it was a very lonely, desolate place. To my right there was an old country church; just a small white church, with a steeple and double doors. Then I heard my Grandpa's voice, singing to me like he always did. He was singing "The Old Rugged Cross" and it was beautiful. There was a light from inside shining through the cracks of the closed doors, like if you stared at the sun with no sunglasses. Somehow I knew he was dressed all in white. And I also knew that I was not allowed to come through the doors.
When I woke up, I felt very close to my Grandpa again, like maybe God had let him show me this so I would know that Grandpa hadn't been "forsaken", that all was well, and Grandpa was with God, and praising God, and loving God. It was as though the doors of that church hid the entrance to heaven, and I wasn't even allowed to see the pearly gates, and I knew better than to try. But I know God was there, in that church, and He was showing me all this for a reason. Soon after, my faith was renewed, and I have been growing in faith ever since.

The years passed, and we moved to a different house. I worked to turn the overgrown yard into something beautiful. There were no hollyhocks though, well, not until a couple years after we moved in. Even though I had never planted any, and I had forgotten all about the hollyhocks at Grandpa's place, they started to sprout everywhere. They grew by my house, in my flower garden, in the lawn, and in every crack and crevice in my sidewalk. Now this isn't a bird dropping a lone seed in my yard, this is like someone planting packets upon packets of seeds in my yard. When my mom came to visit, she had tears in her eyes, as she said they must be from Grandpa, there's no other explanation. They grow to this day, everywhere. I have to thin them out. But every year, I always let some of them grow, they remind me of Grandpa. They are the tallest hollyhocks I have ever seen, and I always get at least one that is snow white.

I think God does work in mysterious ways. I think there are questions out there that we will never know the answers to. I have no idea why some people suffer and others don't, and I won't pretend to have the answer. But I do know that as my relationship with God has turned into a true Father/daughter relationship, I have my Grandpa to thank. Thank you Grandpa, for introducing me to my real Father, because now, I have everything.

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