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A Disturbing Dream

By, Becky Fischer

Recently a friend of mine called early in the morning to tell me about a troubling dream that had awakened her. She was not able to fully interpret it, and it was unsettling enough she was hoping for help. In the dream she was walking down one of the main streets of our home city weeping deeply. The streets were full of people, but there were no born-again believers to be found anywhere. She was crying out to the Lord asking, "Where are all the Christians?"

About that time she looked up at an overpass that crosses this busy street in our city which happens to be used by the railroad. Immediately a huge, super-duper, shiny passenger train went speeding by, and it was full of people. As her eyes followed the train, they locked onto a very long set of railroad tracks that faded into the distance, and she heard the Lord say to her, "My people have confused separation with isolation, and have turned feeding stations into fortresses."

I, too, needed a little help fully interpreting the part about the train, so I ran for my dream interpretation book. We were fascinated by what I found. The passenger train represented the Church. The railroad tracks represented tradition--stubborn, unchanging, habits. We were both numb at the interpretation, which was that lost souls were wandering alone on our streets while the Christians were locked isolated inside in their shiny churches, racing down the tracks of stubborn, unchanging traditions too busy getting fed themselves to reach outside their walls to minister to the lost.

Caught Up in the Church World

Even though it wasn't my own, that dream has dogged my thinking since I heard it. As I speak in churches across America it seems this dream could represent any one of them--churches in which the people inside are so busy doing "church" that they barely notice their friends, neighbors, and co-workers who are being left alone without messengers to share the gospel with them. I'm concerned that we've become so inclusive, and lost in our own little church world, that we've lost the focus of what we've been called to do- -reaching the lost with the gospel of hope and peace.

Not long ago I heard the story of a Christian man who had gone to a restaurant to eat a meal. As he looked up from his plate his eyes caught a little sign that stated, "Not responsible for lost or stolen items." Immediately his heart was pierced, and his eyes filled with tears as he realized that is far too often the attitude of Christians towards unbelievers, and he bowed his head to repent.

I, too, have found myself caught up in the church world of continually ministering to "church kids." I love it and them, and I see the power of God moving mightily everywhere I go. But there are times when I really long for more opportunities to take the precious seed of the gospel into virgin territory--where the gospel has never been preached, and where I know it will be received wholeheartedly because it is so desperately needed.

Gus Encounters God

I was in one of those moods a few months ago when I began crying out to God for opportunities in my own neighborhood to minister to unsaved kids. Finally in an act of sheer determination, I decided if nothing else, I could go visit the children's ward of one of our local hospitals. I flew into the house to throw together a little satchel of object lessons, candy, and anything else I thought might come in handy, and left immediately. There were very few children checked in that day, and the few kids I did visit with initially didn't seem to be very responsive to this bold stranger interrupting their favorite TV shows--that is until I got to Gus's room. Gus was a first grader, a little Native American boy, and he was alone playing video games. I didn't notice it at first, but Gus had had a leg amputated because of bone cancer, and he was very interested in my offer to tell him a story.

I began to tell him about God creating Adam and Eve, (whom he had never heard of before) and how the enemy tricked them into disobeying God. I shared how man was separated then from His Creator, and how Jesus--God's son--had come, defeated the enemy making it possible for man to become best friends with God once again. I told him that Jesus died on the cross to satisfy the punishment for our sins, and that now we too could be best friends with God. Then I boldly asked Gus if he wanted to make Jesus his best friend, and ask him into his heart. It was an enthusiastic yes! So we prayed.

Immediately I said, "Gus, I really believe God wants to talk to you now. I want you to close your eyes and listen in your heart." I was confident my new little convert would hear from his new heavenly Father. But when I asked a minute later, "Did you hear anything?" he matter of factly shook his head no. "Let's try it again, Gus. I know God wants to speak to you!" So he patiently closed his eyes once again and while he did I prayed earnestly, "Lord, please reveal Yourself to Gus! Let him know how real You are!" But when I asked Gus if he'd heard anything, he once again said no. Suddenly my lightening fast mind thought, "Gus! Did you SEE anything??"

Gus's face lit up, his eyes got big, and he began excitedly gesturing with his hands, "Yeah!" he said, "I saw that man on the cross just like you said, and I saw the blood coming down!" He repeated it two or three times, and it was very real to him! I wanted to shout "Hallelujah!" but I thought I'd attract the nurses. I had not said one thing to Gus about any "blood coming down!" The Holy Spirit revealed that to him!

Miracles For Hogansville Kids

I'll never forget my time in Hogansville, GA where I had been invited into a small church to do a weeklong kid's rally. I thought I was going to be ministering to all church kids, and had organized my sermons accordingly. But when I arrived, I discovered the entire congregation had gone to task combing their neighborhoods in the rougher areas--mobile home parks known for their crime and seedy lifestyles--and were bringing vanloads of unchurched kids to the meetings. At first I was dismayed wondering how I could possibly teach the lessons I'd prepared to kids who knew nothing about God, Jesus, or the Bible. But I had no choice but deliver what I had.

The end result of those meetings was phenomenal. I taught one night on how Jesus could heal their bodies. I asked anyone who wanted to be healed to come forward. One little boy came forward because of nightmares that kept him awake continually. Another boy, apparently lactose intolerant, wanted to be healed so he could drink milk and eat ice cream again. Another little girl wanted prayer because she was afraid of dogs. (If you can imagine, I nearly sent her back to her seat because I didn't think fear of dogs fit my criteria at that time for healing!) There were many others that came as well, but these stood out in my mind.

We laid hands on these kids who barely knew anything about God except for what I had taught them that week, and prayed over them. The following night I asked for testimonies. The little boy suffering from nightmares slept all night long perfectly for the first time in their memory. The chubby little boy who was lactose intolerant informed us he went straight home and had a big milkshake, and never got sick! The little girl who was frightened of dogs stood to let us know she was no longer afraid of dogs. In my patronizing mind, I just smiled and nodded at her, thinking she was just mouthing what the other kids were. But two young teenage girls that were my helpers told me after the service, "No, Becky! She really was afraid of dogs! She showed us the scars all over her arms and legs where she'd been mauled by a dog!" I was so ashamed of my small-mindedness, and so thankful my religious thinking had not robbed her of her miracle.

You'll Never Be the Same Again!

One of the highlights of my life came in a tiny town in North Dakota, population 250, in which the schools still practiced "Release Time"--a legal one hour a week when children are released to go to their respective churches for religious instruction. The only problem was, all the protestant churches had been closed down for lack of people, so only the Catholic children had someplace to go in that one hour. A Christian mom, willing to do whatever she could to help, had opened her home to the protestant kids. Her "religious instruction" had been a parade of Gospel Bill, Adventures in Odyssey, and Veggie Tale videos because that was all she knew to do, and praise God, at least she was willing to do that much.

After meeting me, she asked if I would be willing to go down to her town and minister to the kids. It was a hundred miles away, but I immediately leaped at the opportunity. The first week I was there, I presented them with the gospel, and gave the thirteen boys and girls and opportunity to receive Jesus. Our time was very short, because they had to get back to school for their next class, so as they rushed out the door, I told them, "You guys will never be the same again! You're lives are going to change forever!" And they were gone.

The following week I returned, and before I could start our lesson, the kids were aggressively waving their hands for turns to speak. One girl said she had not cussed all week long. Another child reported, "Tony shared his Halloween candy with us. He's never done that before." Another boy spoke up, "I did better in school this week." Almost every child shared a similar story. I stood there confused at first wondering why they were telling me these things, when suddenly I remembered my parting comments to them the week before--"You'll never be the same again!" They were telling me how their lives had already changed! It was thrilling!

What Are We Here For?

Space does not allow me to tell you of all the other incredible experiences I've had when I've been able to share the gospel with fresh little hearts who've never heard of Him before. It is reported that less than one percent of church growth nationwide comes from new converts. If it's true, when we know what we know, that is a disgrace!

When Jesus shared the story of the lost sheep in Matthew 18, He ended his parable with the words, "In the same way, it is not my heavenly Father's will that even one of these little ones should perish." Seldom do we hear this parable taught in its original context. Read the whole chapter. Jesus began it talking about children--how we must become like children to enter the kingdom of heaven, how anyone who offends a child should have a millstone hung around his neck and be cast into the sea, how the angels of children are always in the presence of the Heavenly Father. And THEN He shares the story of the lost sheep. Even though it can be applied to anyone, this parable was originally told as God's attitude towards boys and girls!

The fields are white unto harvest, and they are full of children. And whether we like it or not, Church, we ARE responsible for lost and stolen items--men, women, boys and girls. Many Christians lament, "I just don't know what my ministry is!" To which I ask, "Just tell me--what are we on this earth for? Why are we even here?" Answer that, and you have found your ministry! Would you like to know how to be successful in your life and ministry? It's this--simply find a need and fill it!

Let's break down the fortresses, get out of our shiny passenger trains, and reach into the harvest fields of humanity with the powerful, life-changing gospel of Jesus Christ--reaching especially the children!

Suggested Resource: Shaping Future Generations

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Becky Fischer is the founder and director of Kids In Ministry International. It is most cutting edge apostolic, prophetic ministry for children and those who minister to them. Our mission is to redefine children's ministry in the 21st century by raising up this generation as active members in the body of Christ.

www.kidsinministry.org