Coffee with Yeshua

One morning, I was laying in bed, all snuggled in, talking with God. Not asking for anything. Not needing anything. Just wondering out how beautiful it would be to sit and have a cup of coffee with my friend Jesus—Yeshua.

I didn’t want him to fix anything.
I didn’t want answers or miracles.
I didn’t want him to give me something or do something for me.

I only wanted to be with him, in his presence.
Like a friends
To sit, to talk, to share a moment.
To enjoy each other’s presence over coffee.

Then, in the infinite ways God works, something shifted.

Suddenly, it was as if a movie began playing inside me—but not imagination, not thought. It felt external, like a vision unfolding through me. I could see Jesus and me sitting together at a small table, coffee between us. As we sat there, this vision began to play in front of us, as if we were watching it together.

I saw a young boy walking through dusty street, dirt roads under warm heat. A city or town from the time when Yeshua was a child. I watched this little boy grow, getting taller, older—moving through life in full view of the streets.

I could feel it.
The heat.
The dust.
The presence.

Then Yeshua (Jesus), sitting next to me at the table, said, do you hear that?

I tilted my head slightly, confused.

Do you hear that? he asked again.

And suddenly, I did.

I heard murmuring. Lots of murmuring.

Thousands of voices coming from everywhere, inside homes, behind fences, murmuring lining the streets but no one physically there. A constant sound of people talking about this boy names Yeshua- Jesus. Whispering. Naming him. Defining him. Gossiping. Slandering this small child as he grew.

I could hear them calling him names.
The bastard child.
The mamzer, as they would have said in his day.

I could hear people saying what he wasn’t.
Who he didn’t belong to.
Defining the small growing boy’s identity and belonging as fatherless. Meaning this boy grew up hearing from the world around him he belonged to know one, while hearing  you were less than others because of this and hear there was no father owning him to provide and  protect.  The community around Jesus said you are an outcast. 

I could feel the weight of it, the sound of a child growing up hearing what others believed about him, what they said behind closed doors, the story they told about his identity.

And then, instantly, the vision shifted.

Our table was still there. The coffee still between us, but now I saw him standing in the water, about to be baptized. He went down into the water, and as he came up, a voice spoke over him:

You are my son, whom I love. With you I am well pleased.

I began to weep.

I knew to the depth of my soul Jesus, sitting next to me, was sharing something about himself. Something deeply personal. Something human.

He too had heard the negative stories.
He too had felt the pain of what people said and believed about him.
He too knew what it was like to be defined by others, top be told your less than and do not belong.

And I felt him saying to me, I understand.

I understand the pain of hearing things about yourself.
The struggle of believing them.
The weight of carrying those voices inside.

But I also felt him saying something more.

If you know who you are-
If you own your sonship/ daughtership, your belonging, your divine right as a child of the Creator
If you stand in that truth, as I did—

Everything changes.

It was after that moment, after the Divine Voice named him as mine and beloved, the anointing came for him to stepped into the most powerful part of his ministry on earth.

I felt hope rise in me.

Perhaps we too can come up out of the waters of lies and the voices which surround us.
Out of deceit.
Out from beliefs others have placed on us about our identity, value and belongingness.

If we step into the light of who we truly are-infinitely loved, children of the Creator of the Universe-maybe we too can step into the most powerful season of our lives on earth and can do accomplish more than we ever could have imagined.

We too can be game changers in the world.

Even more than that, I felt Yeshua-Jesus showing me something tender.

That he was a person.
That he needed to hear he was loved and belonged.
and That sonship/daughtership mattered.

Do you agree we all need to hear that too?

Rebecca Dawn