On the altar

A while ago I had a dream.  It was one of those end times style dreams where there's crazy persecution against Christians and people were getting beheaded for their faith in Jesus...
So kind of like now. 

Anyway.

In the dream, there was a man getting ready to chop this person's head off with a big sword.  I was standing there watching when I heard the voice of the Lord say very quietly,
"Go and take that person's place."
 I felt a peace and a courage well up, as I offered to the executioner,
"Let me be killed instead."
Now, the super strange thing about this was that, I had no intention of actually dying.  I thought, I'm obeying the Lord.  He'll save me.  He'll do a miracle.
So the executioner took me instead of the random person and placed me in the position to be beheaded.  As he raised his sword high above his head, panic set in.
He was really going to do it.  He was going to kill me.  And God was going to let it happen.  There was no calvary charging in the door at the last second. No ram in the bush. No angel in the outfield. I was going to be killed. And for a stranger. 
What in the world had I done? I totally, completely and massively, regretted my decision.

Some hero, right?

Of course I woke up just as I felt the cold blade touch my neck.  I wondered about it all day, as it kind of lingered the way vivid dreams do.  It haunted me.  Why would God call me to something to die?  I've read about Jim Elliot and countless others, martyrs, heroes of the faith, who died for the Lord and reaped a huge harvest posthumously.  But still.  That head knowledge hadn't made it to my heart yet, clearly.  It still makes no sense to the natural man.  That He would come and bid me to...die???

Apparently, wrestling with God is something I have no problem doing.  Just because we know we are called to "carry our cross daily," to" lay down our rights," to " take the wrong," walking it out in reality is an entirely different story. 

Flash back a few months.  Jeff got the word to sell our house.  My house.  My home.  I didn't want to.  So Jeff dropped it.  Then one day I went walking and heard that familiar, soft, quiet, and clear voice,
"Let it go."
"Really, Lord?"
"Let it go."
"But it's my home."
"Trust Me."

And today Jeff signed the papers.  We agreed on an offer that would give us not a lot of money, but more than the $300 we were going to make with the first offer.  I was excited and saw it as a way the Lord was providing for some upcoming plans.  

Turns out, we walk away with a lot less money than Jeff and I figured.  Where he was fine with it, I was devastated.  I thought, here I am obeying you, Lord, and everything is gone.  With nothing to show for it.  I may have thrown a fit.  I know.  Super spiritual.  I'm being honest.  I felt raw.  It felt like everything we had given was a waste.

And then, when I was finished wrestling with the Lord, He answered me, patiently, lovingly, and tenderly, the way He does. 
Some sacrifices are completely burned up.  With nothing to show for it.  No meat for the priest, no wine for sipping...it's all burned up, poured out, and completely accepted by the Lord.  We obeyed.  And even if we don't get the details, because we think God should work in certain way, we can rest in the way He chooses to be glorified, and know He's using us, guiding us and leading us.

I'm not going to lie.  It hurts to die.  It smarts a bit.  But on the other side of this, I know I will never regret obedience.