Was I dreaming?
I floated somewhere between a dream state and the reality of a new dawn, wandering through the living room of an abandoned mansion. A shaft of sunlight sneaking through a broken window was dispersed by particles of dust. It offered little illumination, if any.
Water-stained boxes lurked in the shadows. An odd assortment of household goods was gathered beside the boxes: cracked chairs, an end table, a brass headboard and a cast-iron stove. An enamel bedpan sat on top of the stove.
A voice startled me. “Admit the light or lose it.”
I jerked awake with the voice echoing through my mind. “Admit the light or lose it.”
Months passed before I realized that I am the mansion. God is calling me to sweep the cobwebs, discard the filth, restore the broken and uncover the gifts, which he bestows upon me.
I use Loreal to cover the gray; my joints ache on cold, rainy days, and I can’t read the newspaper without holding it at arms-length; however, I don’t have the Lord’s permission to board up the life he has given me. He calls me to leave my spiritual legacy to future generations.
He asks, “Do you bring a lamp to put it under a bowl or a bed? Instead, don’t you put it on its stand? For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open. If anyone has ears, let them hear” (Mark 4:21-23).
The Psalmist writes, “We will not hide them from our children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that He has done” (Psalm 78:4).
Like me, you have a unique story, one that has been edited and published by God.
So if your testimony—like mine—has been abandoned, stowed away in some forgotten crate, will you join me? It’s time to drag out the crates, dust off our stories and share them with our families. Otherwise, our spiritual legacies will be lost.