A woman approached a pastor, troubled by a recurring dream. She described living in a protective bubble, impervious to illness, spite, accidents, and disasters until an authoritative voice granted these misfortunes passage, allowing them to affect her. Seeking explanation, she learned from the pastor that this was not some dream, but it reflected a reality where nothing could harm her without God’s permission. This divine safeguard, he explained, meant that she, like all believers, lived under God’s protection, making them the happiest people.
A woman had a dream and went to her pastor. She said, “Pastor, I had a dream. It really troubles me. Please, pastor, help me. I keep having this dream, the same thing again and again. And it’s beginning to hurt.”
“Tell me your dream,” said the pastor.
“Well, it’s like this, pastor. In my dream, I’m living in a bubble. Then, an illness comes along, but it can’t get into the bubble until a voice says, ‘Okay, you can pass.’ Then I become ill. I’m living in a bubble, pastor. And then, there’s someone saying spiteful, horrible things about me. But they can’t hurt me until the voice says, ‘Okay, you can pass.’ And then, they hurt me. Pastor, it’s like this: There’s an accident coming along, or a burglary, or unemployment, or a bereavement, or something indescribably awful, but it can’t get past unless the voice says, ‘Okay, you can pass.’ And then it happens to me. Pastor, please explain the dream.”
And he said, “It’s not a dream. Is it? Nothing—nothing—can touch you without the express permission of the ever-present God who says, ‘Okay. You can pass.'”
I live my whole life. You live the whole of your life, Christian, protected by the fatherly presence of God. You and I should be the happiest people in the world. Amen.
But we fail, don’t we? And yet, that’s not the end of the story. I came out of the prayer meeting one night; it was a terrible night. It was just a short walk to where I lived. It was pouring with rain, and the wind was blowing. I walked along the streets, hoping to get through the doors. Then there was a sound of brakes and a horrible thud, and a woman lay bleeding in the middle of the road. To my amazement, within a moment, there was a crowd around her, saying, “We’ve sent for the ambulance. Hold on. Don’t give up. Help’s on the way.” And she died.
And I thought, it’s never like that in the Christian life. We have our collisions and our calamities, our falls and our failures, and the moments when we’re really as low as it can possibly be. And no one ever has to say to us, “Help is on the way.” Because my Bible, and yours, says, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”
This excerpt is taken from the full sermon, “God Is Not Far From Each One Of Us“.
