The Church at the Crossroads
(A Modern-Day Parable & Devotional Inspired by the dream of Lydia Adams)
In the city of Solen, there stood a great church called The House of Radiance, built with many levels—each representing different places of service and faith.
On the lowest level, Mara guided her father, Elias, who was moving slowly on a small electric cart. Elias had once been strong and full of energy, but his steps had grown weaker with time.
They were ready to leave the lower level, but the way out was narrow and blocked by iron poles. “We’ll have to walk through,” a volunteer said. But Mara shook her head. “No, my father will not struggle through this system. There must be another way.”
As she spoke, a woman in burgundy, carrying a well-worn Bible, walked calmly through the poles to enter the church. She nodded at them but didn’t speak. Her stride was sure, as though she had learned how to pass through obstacles others couldn’t.
Mara turned and saw another door. “Let’s try this one,” she said. But when Elias opened it, a black truck had backed tightly against it, blocking their exit. The path was still closed.
Frustrated but determined, Mara said, “Then we’ll take the elevator up.”
Elias struggled to steer, but the cart wouldn’t move right. So Mara took the wheel, and though her father walked beside her stubbornly, she pressed forward—riding quickly up to the upper level.
When they reached the main lobby, it was full of sound and light. Volunteers checked in, and the media team rehearsed their announcements. Mara drove straight up to the leaders’ table. People whispered, “Who is she to go right up to them?” But Mara knew she belonged there.
Inside the office, she tried to explain all that had happened below, but her words were met with distraction. Then she saw Rayen, the music leader, dressed in red and black. She called to him several times before he noticed—but when he finally looked, his eyes rolled back, and he smiled strangely, disconnected and dazed. Others laughed, brushing it off, but Mara saw something was terribly wrong.
Her heart broke as she realized that those meant to lead were unaware of their own condition.
Just then, a woman named Cora walked in with a baby girl in a car seat. The baby smiled as Mara reached out, but Cora pulled the child close. “She needs to be fed first,” she said quickly, turning away.
The lights flickered, and the church suddenly went dark. Mara found herself driving alone through the hallways, calling her sister again and again. When her sister finally answered, she said, “I’m still here in the church too.”
Mara sighed and kept driving, her headlights piercing the shadows. She didn’t know exactly where she was going—but she knew she couldn’t stay where she’d been.
📖 Devotional: “When the Exit Is Blocked”
Scripture: “Arise, go up to the high mountain; lift up your voice with strength… Say to the cities of Judah, ‘Behold your God!’” — Isaiah 40:9
There are seasons when God calls us to move from one level of faith to another—but the path out seems blocked. Like Mara and her father in The Church at the Crossroads, you may find yourself trying to leave places that once felt like home, only to meet barriers that test your patience and faith.
The poles that block one exit represent systems and traditions—the manmade rules that make freedom hard to find. The truck at the second door symbolizes burdens and authority figures who, knowingly or unknowingly, stand in the way of your growth. Yet God’s call remains: “Go higher.”
Sometimes, the only way out is up. You may have to take the “elevator” of the Spirit—trusting the Holy Spirit to lift you when natural routes fail. As you ascend, you’ll meet misunderstanding. People will question your access and your pace. Some will even laugh when you discern what’s wrong in leadership or ministry. But your call isn’t to prove them wrong—it’s to stay aligned with the One who opens doors that no man can shut.
The darkness that fell in the church reminds us that not every light we see is divine. God sometimes allows lights to go out so we can learn to follow His presence, not the crowd’s brightness. And though isolation may follow, He uses those quiet drives through the shadows to strengthen your faith and sharpen your hearing.
When the baby smiled at her, it was a sign: new life still recognizes God’s voice even when the old systems resist it. Likewise, there are new works, new souls, and new visions waiting for your touch—but they must be nurtured under God’s direction, not man’s permission.
So, if your exit feels blocked, take heart. The same God who elevates will also guide. When you cannot push through, He will pull you up. When you cannot see your way, He will become your light. And when others stay behind, He will teach you to keep driving—by grace, through the darkness—until you arrive at the place of divine release.
Prayer:
Lord, when doors close and paths are blocked, lift me higher. Help me see what You see, hear what You say, and move when You move. Teach me to trust Your Spirit’s elevation more than man’s permission. Amen.