It was a large banquet hall. Round tables were set with pure white table cloths, exquisite china and silver place settings. Wine goblets and water glasses on one side were flanked by small espresso cups on the other. In the center of each table were bouquets of flowers, their colors illuminated by a crystal chandelier above. Plush seats were being pulled out for guests in fancy clothes by ushers in formal attire and seating arrangements had been carefully chosen to ensure no riff-raff would be allowed near the elite.
At the front of the hall there was a long head table on a platform with multiple seats for the dignitaries, each one with their own name card, official title penned in black calligraphy and a microphone ready to capture their every word. An international smattering of scientists, doctors and politicians waited for their names to be called to the head table so they could begin their presentation to the world.
We entered the banquet room and were ushered to our seats at the very front of the hall on the right-hand side with a spectacular view of the head table and all the important people who would soon be speaking. It was the height of Covid lockdowns and yet we all sat side-by-side, 8 to a table with no masks. We air kissed a couple sitting beside hubs; not because we knew them, but because that’s what you did when surrounded by important people.
Dr. Fauci sat across the table from us and he looked so very tired. All of a sudden, a loud, self-important woman plunked herself down next to me and immediately began complaining that her daughters had nowhere to sit because they had Covid and had been denied access to the event. I was shocked that she had been allowed in herself, she should have been in quarantine especially with Dr. Fauci sitting across the table, who, at 89 years old would never make it if he got Covid. Besides, our table was already full.
I must admit that I was so concerned for Dr. Fauci that an argument broke out between myself and that woman. She wanted all of us to squish together to make room for her sick daughters. Next thing I knew hubs and I were being escorted out of the main banquet hall, not the nasty woman who wanted her sick daughters to sit at a table with one of the most important dignitaries of the entire evening! Her daughters promptly sat in our vacated chairs and as we were being led away I heard her say that it was good we wouldn’t be at their table anymore because we were “those” kinds of people.
Christians.
Large, folding accordion doors separated the banquet hall from an attached hall with endless rows of fold-out metal chairs. A single, center aisle split the two sides of this hall right down the middle. The folding doors had been pushed aside so thousands upon thousands of normal, everyday folks would be able to hear the speakers but never get too close to the special guests and dignitaries. They were so scared, all the regular people; the pandemic was terrifying and they were looking for reassurances and answers about the global pandemic.
It was to these chairs that we were taken. Our banquet clothes were replaced by ordinary work clothes like we’d just come in from doing chores on the farm. Somehow hubs and I were separated and I found myself in an aisle seat on the right-hand side of the hall/auditorium, countless rows both in front and behind me. I frantically searched for hubs and was so relieved when I spotted him opposite to me but just a few rows back smiling and waving at me, also sitting in an aisle seat. His red flannel work jacket a beacon amongst a sea of grey and I was very thankful that he had it on. I also knew that he had been put in charge of that particular row, those were his people and he was responsible for them.
I can’t tell you why, but at that moment I felt like I had taken someone’s seat. I looked to my right and saw that the row of people beside me stretched out so far that I couldn’t see the end and instinctively knew that I was responsible for them just like hubs was responsible for his row.
I focused on the young man sitting right beside me and although I was terrified to strike up a conversation, I decided to introduced myself.
“Hi, my name is Rhonda,” I started. “What’s your name?”
“Now,” he said. His clear, blue eyes bored into mine intensely.
“Excuse me?” I felt tongue tied and fidgety. What a strange name. I asked him again, “What’s your name?”
“My name is NOW” he said, with gentle force.
“Whose seat am I sitting in?” Somehow I knew that he knew.
“A co-worker of mine,” he answered. “He left because he found Jesus and told me he was all full of peace and joy so he didn’t need to be here anymore to get answers.”
I immediately thought of Phillip and the Ethiopian (Acts 8) and how Phillip used the Ethiopian’s questions about the prophet Isaiah to begin telling the story of salvation through Christ. Now had opened the door for me and I decided I wasn’t leaving like his co-worker; I was going to take the opportunity to talk to him about the peace and joy that only Jesus can give.
~~~
If you haven’t guessed already, this was not real. One morning I woke up at 6am when hubs got out of bed and fell back to sleep and woke up again half an hour later after having this incredibly vivid dream. It was October last year; lock-downs, quarantining, distancing & masks were so normal we didn’t know what normal-normal felt like anymore. Thankfully as soon as I got up I wrote everything down that I could remember from the dream.
I’ve thought a lot about it since then.
Why were we invited to a banquet hall and seated at a prominent table with a dignitary who had the power to change the course of a global response to a pandemic? Why were we given the boot because of someone loud and obnoxious who didn’t like what we were saying? Why was I so concerned for Dr. Fauci (a stranger) to the point that I was willing to battle it out with another woman at the table and ultimately lose our seats? Oh and Dr. Fauci isn’t 89 as he was in my dream, he’s 81.
Maybe while reading the story it touched you in some way, here are a couple things that I felt very strongly about as soon as I awoke.
Impact.
Our words and deeds inspire a response from the world and sometimes it’s not a pat on the back, it may be a kick in the rear. Dr Fauci didn’t defend us, he allowed us be taken away, removed from the table. But that led us straight to our next assignment – a specific row of people who would come into our lives as God had ordained.
Instead of being worried about what we would say or how we would start the discussion, we were to focus on the people in our row’s own questions and comments as a starting point to the conversation, and we would use the conversation to point them straight back to Jesus.
Now is so clear. The very first person in my row that I spoke to.
I felt his pointed message: NOW is the time. NOW is the moment to use my gifts and time to the glory of God. Opportunities are waiting NOW to have conversations with people who come into my life that are scared and looking for answers they can’t seem to find from the world.
Peace and joy.
So full, so total that no matter what is raging on the earth or in our lives it still trumps everything else. Jesus is the only answer needed to global or personal upheaval of any kind. Abiding in him shelters us from the fear of all uncertainties.
I’m not sure why I waited this long to share this with you. Maybe now is the very day you needed to see this. Maybe you’ve been struggling with purpose or identity or focus maybe even fear. The days are short until Christ returns, the lineup of people who have come in and out of your life is long and continues to grow. Don’t be afraid, use the very words and questions people ask as a starting point to lead them to Jesus and just start. Now.