Tag: Vision

Seeing Hope

Justin Hibbard

Two years ago this very day, my wife gave birth to a baby who had died in utero. The baby, who we named Hope, was only fourteen weeks. The doctors and nurses cleaned her up and allowed us to spend some time with her, saying our goodbyes. We cried and prayed over her. And though we had left the hospital on three other occasions carrying a newborn, this time we left empty-handed and empty-hearted.

The next year was particularly difficult for my wife Karlene. She asked many tough questions to which I didn’t have any answers. I wanted to solve her hurt, but nothing I could say or do could bring about relief. Indeed I had questions of my own that I buried deep down in the depths of my soul.

Ten months after the miscarriage, I made a trek to Colorado for a retreat at John Eldridge’s “Wild at Heart” men’s ministry. While there, I spent a lot of alone time praying and asking God to open my heart and heal the wounds of my past. In dramatic fashion, the Lord gave me stunning visions of His glory and spoke to my hurts and insecurities.

On one afternoon, while I was deep in prayer and meditation on the hillside nestled in the Rocky Mountains, the Lord gave me a vision. It is a vision I have only shared with my wife up until this point. In this vision, I was standing at the top of a waterfall looking down. Jesus was gently whispering, “Run strong, Justin.” I knew I was meant to jump, but I didn’t have the courage. Suddenly, Jesus ran up from behind me and grabbed me around the chest and jumped off the ledge with me. Instead of falling to the depths of the water, we soared like an eagle while He held me tightly.

Down the windy river we flew until we ended up gently stopping on a river bank some distance from the waterfall. Surrounding me was a lush, green country hillside. Beside me, a calm blue stream flowed ever so slowly. Where I stood, the river had narrowed to a mere small stream only a few feet wide. With a small leap, I could have easily crossed it.

Suddenly, Jesus was standing on the other side of the river from me. I looked at Him, and then I looked at His side. There standing beside Him on His left, holding His hand, stood a little girl. She was a young child – maybe eight or nine. She had long straight, dark hair with strands that blew gently in the breeze. Her face was soft, beautiful, and innocent.

The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew it was her. It was my Hope. Even 14 months later, I can still picture her – that moment I saw her standing with Jesus.

In my vision, tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted to hold her; I wanted to ask Jesus all sorts of questions. I couldn’t muster the words. It was as if seeing them brought this amazing sense of peace, in spite of all the unanswered questions and the deep pain. Then, as if her and Jesus’ voice mended together, they said, “I’m waiting for you. Run strong.” Jesus turned, and without any instruction, Hope turned and followed Him.” The two moved together so in-sync, it was as if Hope had been with Him for a lifetime.

As Jesus and Hope faded away in the distance, I noticed that standing beside me was my wife and three children. My hands were around their shoulders. My wife was leaning against my chest – her arms wrapped around my torso. Behind us stood a tiny cottage house.

I slowly opened my eyes, wishing I could stay in this vision forever, hoping that I would never lose the memory of seeing my little girl.

It’s been two years now since we said our final goodbyes to Hope. It’s been over a year since the Lord gave me that vision of her. I struggle to share this very intimate vision publicly. I fear that people will pass this very real and significant experience off as nonsense. It’s a vision I still don’t totally understand. Perhaps one day the nuances will become something symbolically significant – I don’t know. Perhaps someone will explain to me what this vision means better than what I can understand myself.

In the past two years, we’ve been able to minister to those who have also suffered the painful loss of a child. I grieve for those who hurt so intensely. What I discovered that day in Colorado is that healing does not come with answers. Peace and healing came that day through a miraculous encounter with the Prince of Peace – the Great Shalom. Only He has the amazing ability to tame the troubled heart and make wild the lifeless one. In seeing Him, I was given a “peace that surpasses understanding.” It is a peace not dependent on having questions answered but through encountering a Savior and Friend who holds my heart deep within His.

Transformative Prayer

Justin Hibbard

One evening I talked with my daughter Annalia about hearing God’s voice. Just before I put her to bed, I instructed her, “Just listen with your heart Annalia, and you’ll hear Him talk to you.”

A little while later, I heard Annalia crying hysterically in her bed. I ran upstairs to see what was wrong. “I can’t hear God talking to me,” she said amidst the tears.

In my eagerness for her to hear what God was saying, I forgot to teach her how to hear Him. It made me think of my own prayer life and ask, “How did I learn to hear God? When did that begin in my own life? Do only a few people have that gift, and if so, why does the Bible emphasize heading to God’s instruction? If it is for everyone, how do I teach others not only the importance of hearing God but how to hear Him?”

That’s my focus for today in continuation of these reflections on intimacy with God, and I want to begin this discussion by talking about your mind. Our minds are powerful circuit boards. There’s so much that goes on in our brain that affects what we perceive and how we act. In fact, our minds are so powerful that Jesus tells us that we could commit adultery or murder within the confines of our thoughts. So my question is, if our minds are that powerful to make us guilty of heinous crimes (even though we physically didn’t commit them), how powerful must they be to help transform us to be more like Jesus?

Have you ever had a day where you were really wrestling with your mind? Maybe lustful thoughts popped into your head all day, or you struggled with guilt and self-esteem. At the end of the day, how did you feel? If you’re like me, you felt worn out and spiritually maimed. You may have never said a word or committed an action, but your brain took a beating from the forces of darkness.

Is it any wonder why out of all the armor of God, we’re told that our salvation is best represented by a helmet. In Romans 12, we’re instructed to “be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” If we want to act differently, we have to think differently. Last week we saw this with Isaiah when we studied his encounter with the Lord in chapter 6. Once Isaiah saw himself atoned with the blazing coal, he thought differently. He no longer cowered in the shadows of his own fallen state; he raised his hand and said, “Here am I, Lord; send me.”

As I began to learn how integral the mind is to our lives as Believers, it helped me to give some instruction to my daughter. “Annalía,” I said, “I want you to close your eyes and picture and sense Jesus. Do you see Him? What does He look like? Now, what’s He saying to you.”

As I left the room that night, I said, “Whenever you get scared, I want you to close your eyes and see Jesus.” Annalía interjected, “You mean, you want me to imagine Him?”

Ooh… imagination. Is this what I’m talking about? And when I say “imagination” do all sorts of red flags go up in your mind? When people start talking in terms of thinking, sensing, feeling, perceiving, imagining many people sum it up to either psycho-babble or some eastern religion type of therapy.

If that’s the case, then what did David mean when he wrote, “Blessed is the one whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night?” What does it mean to meditate? Might it be similar to what Paul instructs in Philippians 4:8, “whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

In 2 Corinthians 10:5, we’re told, “We take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” Take every thought captive? What about Satan? When do we take him captive? Perhaps taking control of our mind is one way we take control of Satan and his stronghold. Maybe Paul is giving us a clue that many of the battles of spiritual warfare are fought on the fields of our mind.

In Colossians 3, we read, “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.” When you incorporate your imagination, your mind, your senses in prayer, you are doing just that. Instead of letting your mind drift to all sorts of dark places, you are controlling your mind and surrendering it to the Lord.

Can you see now how Isaiah 6 can be a reality for your life? You too can see the Lord. You can ask Him to show you His glory. You can close your eyes, even right now, and meditate – imagine, sense, see, perceive, and be washed by visions of glory. This is where prayer becomes transformative.