It’s a beautiful, bluebird day. I find myself barefoot, walking slowly up a steep incline on a sandstone butte. The ground is smooth and warm beneath my feet; I’m not on any known path, but yet my feet find their way steadily up an easy flowing route along the hills and swells of the stone. To my right, the cliff rises steeply, and to my left is the gentle shoulder of the cliff, disappearing down and away.

Up and up I walk, looking forward to what is to come; perhaps a swim in a gentle lake. I know there are good things ahead.

Finally, I reach the top of the butte. The land falls away gently on the other side; you can see green hills, lakes and rivers down below. I’m walking along the top now, looking into the distance at the lovely blue sky and white clouds. A house up a head has a small pond in front of it; the house is small and modest, crafted from hand hewn boards long since dried in the arid weather. A single door, with a small porch faces in my direction, with a darkened window beside. The pond is mirror smooth, reflecting the beautiful day above. You can smell the juniper and sage in the air, and see small white butterflies flitting among the yellow blossoms of the sage that grows in the cracks and crevices of the sandstone.

Two people come out of the house; they feel friendly and kind though you cannot quite make out their faces. They are gesturing to look behind you… look they say. Their hands are urgent, waving at you. It feels slow motion.

You turn, and see the skies behind you have darkened. Blackened. The sky is roiling and boiling over with angry clouds, black and soot grey, purples. Lightning is flashing periodically with a dark, angry sour yellow brightening the blackness. You look closer and realize that within the clouds are tortured faces of the damned, demons are snarling out at you from the clouds. Panic sets in, and your heart starts trip-hammering in your chest as you realize you’re in danger.

Looking down the butte to the direction you were headed, you see angry dark waters rising up rapidly, reaching that beautiful pond and home; you feel the cold lap of the water just touching your feet and you start trying to hurry back the way you came. Hurry. Hurry. Your heart going faster and you try to swallow down the panic you feel as you hear the angry rain, and the whispers of the voices on the wind as they close in on you.

You look up in shock as an old, beat up, red SUV with huge black tires climbs up the sandstone butte, skirting the juniper and the sage and small dried out pine trees, steadily heading towards you. The body of the truck swaying drunkenly as the driver moves up and over the rocky ground. He reaches your location and does a fast 180 and the passenger door swings open.

There He is; His hair is curly and thick. You’re briefly reminded of a painter you once watched on PBS teaching the watcher to appreciate the beauty of landscapes and the simplicity of paint and peace. That not who this is, though the hair is similar. He’s wearing simple white linen, hands on the over large steering wheel. Get in, he says. You see his mouth shape the words; and hear and feel the world roaring around you. You climb in and close the door just as the waters reach the running boards of the vehicle. You gasp as you look again at the clouds and see the faces growling and snarling at you, closer and closer. And you feel the water lift the truck and the wheels leave the ground.

You look over at the Driver, and to your shock, His eyes are closed and He is peacefully resting. You yell, and scream, panicked that the darkness and the waters will now reach you both.

He opens His eyes and looks at you. You see and feel calmness and peace instantly as His warm and loving eyes take you in. Without saying a word, you realize, He’s got this. Nothing to worry about. The darkness and the storm cannot touch you so long as you are with Him.

Your eyes open, and you are in your bedroom in the dark and quiet. Your clock ticks softly beside you and you realize it’s only 3am. Get up, wash your face and calm your shaking hands. Say a prayer or ten. Try to shake off the dream that was more real than anything you experience in this waking world.

***

So – why do I tell you about one of my many dreams? Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending a Called & Gifted workshop with Father Francis Ching. I’m normally far too tired to really focus well on a full day of listening; but I was engaged and focused the entire day. My hands tingled, almost with an ache to my forearms, my scalp often felt caressed and cared for. I listened to amazing women talk about their experiences, the gifts they are discerning; a shared concern that we’re not worthy and we don’t know how to use what we’ve been given. We’re not always sure how to say ‘yes’.

And I realized, that this dream – while it features prominently in my memories and came to me at a time when my life truly was in the middle of a storm – is not meant ONLY for me.

It’s meant to be shared. Freely and openly, because it’s a message for all of us. We all have our storms; they come. The dark one, the evil one, he loves to find ways to sow chaos in our lives and in our hearts. To add worry and fear. Divide us. Make us scramble in panic that we can’t manage.

But the Lord is here and with us; and He’s got it. There is no storm greater than His love for all of us.

This much I have learned in the past few years. It’s not an easy thing to accept. The storms that crop up in life have a way of feeling bigger, more frightening, and of greater immediate importance than our prayer time; than our worship time. It’s easy to take our eyes off of the Lord and focus on the immediate threats around us.

But that’s exactly when we do need to find that safe shelter; we do need to walk into the church and kneel and pray. And ask for help. For, that’s the other thing that I’m learning – and it’s not an easy thing to learn when you have spent your life trying to hold it all together on your own. That there are legions of people, a whole army of gentle and loving people that the Lord has raised up and given gifts to, that can help. No matter the size of your storm, if you’re truly in a space filled with God’s people who are practising their Gifts, then you will find support and love and a team who can come alongside you and shore you up so you have the strength to ride out the storm.

Maybe sometimes it feels like there’s no one walking with you through your struggles; it can feel so hard and scary when someone who is bigger than you or meaner than you is raging with their own demons and you are their target. It is traumatizing to be alone and small when someone is hurting you. It can be overwhelmingly, panic inducing, when you don’t have the money to pay for necessary food for your kids. Or your hands shake as you pull out the last of your cash to buy your child medicine that they need. Or you lie awake long nights wondering where you’re going to find a home or shelter. Or, perhaps you’re in the middle of a depression so deep and thick you can taste, even as you try to pass yourself off as happy and normal.

But, the Lord does see; though direct intervention doesn’t really happen. No SUV ever drove crazily up to take me away from my storms; looking back on my own pathway and journey, I know that He was with me, crying alongside each and every time someone took another piece of me away. It would be so, so easy for me to fall into anger and depression and ask Why weren’t You there!! But, I have a purpose, you see. To help other women, and men, who have also felt so very alone, and scared and small as they face down storms that are far bigger than they can handle alone. To say, come back. You’re not alone. I couldn’t truly express His love or understanding, if I hadn’t had my own storms to live through.

None of us are perfect. Even those being called to discern how and what the Lord is asking of us, we make so many mistakes and we’ve lived our own broken lives, and we ourselves are broken. But come anyway. For, if you’ve come to the right Church, you will find acceptance and love and welcoming hands and arms. The Lord needs you, too.

God Bless You.