" DREAM of THE MIGRANT WORKERS "
by Bryan Hupperts
I had a detailed dream where I was standing in a sea of people
before the throne of God. I saw well known ministers, invisible
ministers, people who had falsely accused me, people who had
justly accused me, and many people I didn´t know. Weird, but
everyone had a black spot on their chest. The numbers were too
vast to count. I was standing pretty close to a tele-evangelist
known for $1,000 suits and for boasting of many healings. I had
the distinct impression he was impatiently waiting for the Lord
to finish speaking to hand him a microphone!
We were all wearing name badges and (like military insignias)
badges of rank.The Lord spoke to this vast group yet we each
heard him as if he were only speaking to us individually, "Lay
down your ministry, your vision, your promises. I have new
assignments for each of you." We all assumed a promotion.
Then all went dead silent while the Holy Spirit ministered to each
of us. To me he spoke, "I want you to become a field hand, a
migrant worker. Go pick fruit."
I was horrified. What is lower than a fruit picking migrant worker?
I burned with shame wondering what my family would think. How
would we live? What about my hard won education? I have struggled
with Lupus for years and cannot stand being in sunlight for long
stretches of time. Such a call to work in the fields would surely kill me!
Finally, I bowed my head while weeping and said, "Thy will be
done." I stripped myself of my nice suit and donned the cheap
clothing of a migrant worker. I told myself that if all I am capable
of doing is harvesting fruit for the Lord then I would do it with all
my heart. I felt something inside of me begin to shake violently,
burn and finally die.
Though he slay me, yet will I serve Him, indeed! It occurred to me
much later that migrant is just another way of saying "stranger and alien".
Anyway, I looked up and saw a great separation take place. I
realized that the Lord had whispered this exact same calling to
everyone there. We were all being called to be migrant fruit pickers.
This vast company were all ministers of the Gospel. The hard
shock was that the great majority of those standing there heard
this call to go be migrant laborers and had said, "No."
I could hear the angry complaints: I built this church... I am too
important ... This ministry cannot survive with my leadership...
If these fruit picking fools actually succeed, send the tithers to
my church... and on and on. I could see sheep being culled from
goats. It was like watching the birth of Gideon´s Army. Our ranks
were greatly thinned and we were an unimpressive, motley lot.
There was not a name tag, title, or rank insignia to be seen.
So there we were in our migrant worker clothes like people you
would glance at and turn away from uncomfortably pretending
that you did not see them. I noticed we all had a dark hole burned
in our chests where the black spot had been and someone called
out and asked about it. The Lord of the Harvest replied, "That thing
that burned and died in each of you was your blinding pride." And
he breathed on us and the hole was filled with a kind of liquid light,
His abiding Presence and glory!
I thought, "Oh, you cannot fill that which is full. You can only fill a
vessel that has been first emptied." I looked back at the great
company of ministers who had disqualified themselves from their
true callings and was suddenly glad to be in ragged clothes and
holy company. The black marks on their chests were like a
plague infection that suddenly began to ooze and spread. I thought,
"They´re dead already and they don´t even know it."
God is looking for those who will faithfully laborer for him to bring
in the great harvest of souls that the seed of His blood had spilled
into the earth to bring forth. Faithful Labor: There is no other qualification.
The Lord told us, "The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.
Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his
harvest field. Go forth. Be fruitful and multiply my Kingdom!"
As our company marched off into the harvest field to be inglorious,
nameless field hands, I could hear those left behind sneering in
contempt, shouting out catcalls about what fools were all were.
They seemed oblivious that the Lord of the Harvest was standing
in their midst watching, listening, weighing their every word. And
his eyes burned with holy fire...
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Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of theFather, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost Matthew 28 : 19
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