“Ten points,” your friend says as a child walks in front of your car at a crosswalk.
You shake your head and laugh.
At least that’s what I usually do. My morbid sense of humor, however, was recently challenged by a disturbing dream I had last night . . .
I was driving through a parking lot as a stream of kids walked out in front of me. My impatience caused me to release and press the brake multiple times as I inched closer and closer to the children.
Because of this close call, I began to imagine – a dream within a dream I suppose – what I would do if I had really run over a child . . .
Fast forward a bit (I’ll let your imagination do the work here) and I find myself in Heaven. I walk up to Jesus and He embraces me in an all-consuming hug. Astonishment and thankfulness overwhelm me as I realize how wonderful it is that – despite the fact that I killed a child and committed suicide as a result – Jesus still loved me.
This dream revealed the depth of my emotion regarding guilt and death. My eagerness to laugh at seemingly funny things stands in stark contrast to my ungodly reaction to conviction and my difficulty accepting forgiveness.
Next time, I will not laugh.