One night when I was a child, I had a dream.
I was in a field, on a sunny day. I was wearing white. And I was running.
I ran, and ran, and ran. For sheer joy.
I did not grow tired.
My breath never burned, my legs never wavered.
I ran, for a long, long time.
I was free.
Years later, I encountered this quote:
“If one could run without getting tired, I don’t think one would often want to do anything else.” ~C. S. Lewis
I understood exactly what he meant, because I had experienced it in my dream.
As a Christian, discovering my identity in Christ was like experiencing that tireless running, when I didn’t even know I had legs.
I had lived life on my knees, it seemed, never knowing I could walk, much less run.
Being on our knees is often a positive metaphor for Christians, but I use it here as a metaphor for living a crippled, impaired spiritual life.
My handicap was believing that my identity was that of a sinner.
Finding out that I am identified literally in Christ himself — his identity is mine, his righteousness is mine, his goodness, grace, and love are mine as if I owned them always — was an unparalleled experience of standing up, taking steps, and learning to run.
In my dream, someone ran beside me. We ran together. I did not recognize him, but I knew we were friends. Wherever I went, he was right beside me.
That Friend still runs with me, and now, I know his name.
My days do not often feel like bare feet flying across cool ground. They do not often feel like I’m wearing white. They do not often feel free.
But then, if I remember to remind my heart of the dream I had, I hear the whisper of these words:
“You are free.”
Somehow I feel a fresh breeze brush through my hair, and I remember the truth. I have been set free from the master of Sin, and he no longer enslaves me unless I stay sidelined on my knees. I am free, to run, to laugh, to dance, to revel in my birthright bought by blood.
I live the dream, now, if I choose.