As a very small child, I believed in “magic”. There was no line between the natural and the supernatural. In my basement playroom, the black and white TV perched on metal cart showed me Jeannie and Samantha and of course, I wanted to be Tabitha on Bewitched. I’d make a grand entrance through the gold and brown plastic “jewels” that hung in the doorway. and escape to my secret hideaway that to the untrained eye was a blanket fort strewn between folding metal chairs. Down here I went to Neverland and joined the flying children in Peter Pan. Some days, I’d go to Paris and listen to swinging Jazz with the Aristocats. Then I’d head off to London and laugh with Uncle Arthur and Mary Poppins. These grand tales of adventures spun from my Close and Play Record Player, the scenes danced across my mind, my imagination fully engaged in the wonder of it all.
My Bible picture books and Sunday School coloring pages told me the fabulous stories of Red Seas parting, giants slaying, and fire called down from Heaven. Loved and adored by my strong Daddy, the pictures of Jesus surrounded by little children were as natural to me as breathing. I was His and He was mine.
There was no prayer this good Jesus would not answer, no miracle He would not do, He was wonderous and magnificent; the magic was everywhere. I believed with all my heart and did not doubt. So when I heard Mark 11:22-24: “Have faith in God. I tell you the truth, you can say to this mountain, ‘May you be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ and it will happen. But you must really believe it will happen and have no doubt in your heart. I tell you, you can pray for anything, and if you believe that you’ve received it, it will be yours.” This Scripture was tailor-made for a child like me!
|All I was Missing Was the Pixie Dust|
It didn’t work, none of it. I thought “happy thoughts” while listening to Peter Pan but no matter how I ran and jumped, I could not fly. I crossed my arms, put my hair in a ponytail, wore my gauzy green nightgown and robe (my Jeannie “costume”) closed my eyes and nodded my head as hard as I could but I never shrunk down into the Chianti bottle covered in different color candle drippings (my Jeannie bottle). I realized that the shows and the records were pretend but Jesus was real. So why, when I believed with all my heart, did Jesus words not work either? My Uncle did not walk again and no matter how hard I prayed my Aunt still got a divorce. Therein lies the rub.
|Shadows of the Beauty to Come|
During this Age, there are no booming declarations from above, no pillars of fire leading the people forth in the Wilderness, no feeding of the 5000, no parting of the Red Seas. There are no overt public miracles, no true healing ministries, no flying mountains! Jesus himself ushers in the Age, with the last beatitude, John 20:29:
This is where childlike imagination has to reengage like I did listening to those records. We can hear the words, we can hear the music, but we can not see. The Lord is quiet, gentle, subtle. He woos us with kindness and gentleness. It is the Still Small Voice and the Word that we must rely upon; not emotions and miracles. We wait in faith and hope without His physical manifestation. In return, He fills us with the Holy Spirit and seals us with the greatest power in the Universe, Himself.
Call it what you wish, born, raptured, glorified, sanctified… one day the Church will be fully and completely aligned with the perfect will of God Himself. We will do nothing contrary to His wishes. Listen to Jesus prophecy below: John 14:12-14
“I tell you the truth, anyone who believes in me will do the same works I have done, and even greater works, because I am going to be with the Father. You can ask for anything in my name, and I will do it that the Son can bring glory to the Father. Yes, ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it!”