New Birth 🌊

"For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” 

 — Ephesians 2:10

Have you ever faced a storm so massive you knew it would change everything? I had a dream years ago that felt less like a nightmare and more like a holy invitation. I found myself in the middle of a vast ocean with another version of myself, as if we were twins, staring down a colossal tsunami. But instead of fear, there was an incredible sense of excitement. As the wave loomed over us, we began to chant, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus."

The wave crashed, pulling us deep into the dark depths. In the water, we tried to hold on, to stay together, but the ocean was relentless. As I sank, a profound realization hit me — I was dying. Yet, there was no pain, only a simple, quiet ease. I decided to just let it happen.

This moment was the beginning of the letting go.

It reminds me of Ephesians 2:1-5, which describes our state before Christ:

“As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.”

To be made alive, the foolish man within us must first pass away.

In the dream, I woke up at the bottom of the sea, lying on sand. I was covered in debris—shattered wood and parts of a roof. As I pushed the wreckage off, I realized I was alive. This debris was the remains of my foolish man’s house.

Jesus spoke of this in Matthew 7:26-27:

"But everyone who hears these Words of Mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash."

My house had been built on sand, and the storm had rightfully reclaimed it. But in that destruction, there was a choice —stay under the debris or rise. In the dream, the moment I chose to rise, I didn’t just float; I shot upward out of the ocean like a torpedo. When I broke the surface, I kept going until I landed on the peak of a mountain. The Presence of the Lord was so thick and holy I didn't even dare to look to my right. I wondered to myself if anybody else died in that tsunami. Then, in the valley below, I saw thousands of others walking toward the mountain, hands raised in worship.

This is the beauty of grace. We don’t just survive the storm; we’re relocated.

Ephesians 2:6 tells us that God "raised us up with Christ and seated us with Him in the heavenly realms."

The dream was a vivid representation of death and new birth. The tsunami wasn't an enemy; it was the vehicle God used to wash away the foolish things of the world and the old man I was clinging to. We all have a choice. We can try to repair our house on the sand, or we can allow the storm to clear the ground so God can recreate us as His workmanship. When we stop fighting the death of our old nature and start calling on the Name of Jesus, He brings us from the bottom of the sea to the top of the mountain.

Join me on the journey  💝

ABOUT MARIE SCINTO