If the story of Jesus’ life had a battle it was a daily fight for identity. If His story had an antagonist, it was doubt, better known as unbelief. And each time Jesus was confronted with the crisis of identity He chose to believe what His Father had said about Him from the very beginning. Jesus was sure in His identity.

A true dream, one that is birthed in the heart of “old men dreamers,” carries with it authority and power. Only a person who has experienced the death of vision, who has nailed vision to the cross, has access to the power of resurrection. When he dreams again, he dreams the dreams of heaven. And a dream that’s birthed in heaven has power to transform earth, it can change a family, a neighborhood, a city, a nation, it grows exponentially and has eternal significance.

I would hear Eva crying and come running. I would scoop her up, hold her close and whisper how it would be alright. I would do all this as I took her to the front window to point out her mom, just feet away.

Jesus didn’t come to set us straight on how much we needed Him. That was abundantly clear from the moment Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit. He came to give us access to love—receiving and giving, beholding and becoming.

Every test by God is an invitation to transition from one narrative to another, from control to love, from orphan to son or daughter, from bondage to freedom, from fractured thinking to wholeness, from our perspective to His, from our best thoughts about who He is, to the truth about who He is, from our story, to the whole story; the one He is telling.