One morning, a few weeks ago, Gavin and I hiked to a place called the House of Dreams. It's a three mile hike to the top of the mountain. All along the way, there are teasing signs that signify the top is close at hand. We approached a small clearing. Light poured through the trees. As I treaded closer, I thought, "Oh, I'm there!" But no, that clearing teased me. We continued to circle the mountain. A little while later, we crested a small hill, and a stone wall emerged. Surely, this was the entrance to the House of Dreams. And yet the top of the hill still eluded us.
Walking hand in hand, we continued our journey. I didn't mind the steady climb. Gavin told me about some boys at camp who are "tapped out" for a special assignment called the The Little Chief Test. The boys undergo a 24-hour challenge that includes a silence ban, building a fire with one match, and a run up this mountain, among other things. They begin the test at midnight the night before and start the run covered in smut from their fires and exhausted from lack of sleep. As we continued our walk, Gavin pointed out various landmarks. He showed me where the various "legs" of the run began and also where many of the boys often give up.
As he was explaining this, we trampled over one last gravelly incline and there ahead of us stood the driveway to the House of Dreams. Finally! The house was modest, yet breathtaking because it's surrounded by lush grass, a lovely garden and a beautiful view of the surrounding mountains. As we crested the hill, my eyes drank in the beauty from the perspective of that secluded hilltop. I could see for miles! The clouds blanketed the horizon in billowy beauty. We perched ourselves on a quaint old tree swing, basking in the breeze of a gorgeous fall day. If only those boys had known that they were that close, I bet they wouldn't have given up!
I began to think back through the years--projects I began but never finished, friendships I pursued but didn't cultivate, and dreams I played out in my head, but never realized in life. I wonder how close I had been to the end? I wonder what I missed because I gave up too soon. I reflected on the obstacles and wondered if I made the right decisions.
Proverbs 3:5-6 says Commit thy way unto the Lord and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.
I have always loved that verse, but it took on new meaning for me that day. How many times had I committed to a project or made plans to pursue something based on my own understanding of what lay ahead of me? How many times had I become sidetracked, strayed off course, or stumbled across a roadblock in my pursuit of success and happiness? Like those boys, I couldn't see the future. I felt tired. My legs couldn't carry me to the top of the mountain. I wasn't where I was supposed to be because I didn't ask God to show me the way.
The good news is that in the last three years, I have seen God answer my prayers by showing me clearly the way he wants me to go. I've prayed, "God, show me my place here" and he has done it. I've prayed, "Lord, give me friends who will help me be more like you" and he has done it. As I have leaned in God's direction, he has made my paths straight. When I look at him, I can see more clearly where to go. The path isn't curvy, and I can begin by going confidently in the direction of his leading. I'm not scared. I don't worry about what I cannot see. It's enough for me that God sees, and he is with me.
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
My Recurring Dream
My bed is my refuge. I love crawling between the cool sheets in the darkness of night, laying my head on my favorite pillow and drifting silently into dreamland. But my nightly dreams aren't always of the sweet variety.
I have a recurring dream. It's unlike other dreams of which I am familiar. I don't dream about public speaking in my underwear or missing important tests. Rarely, do I dream of being chased, falling, or losing my teeth. Maybe my dream isn't all that unique, but I have it so regularly now that I do feel lit belongs to me particularly. It's a vision that has evolved as the years have passed, and I am desperately trying to figure out what it means.
In the dream, an animal approaches me and puts his teeth on my hand. He doesn't clamp down, but just barely touches his teeth to the skin of my hand. I am paralyzed with fear. I'm afraid to jerk away because the animal might clamp down even harder. I remain rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to scream. The animal varies, but this scene is the same. At first, my animal tormentor was a bear, then a hyena, a wolf, and, because the animal's size has been trending downward, eventually a dog. I have been having this dream for years, and most recently, the animal was only a tiny chipmunk. In spite of my sub-conscious recognizing the situation, my instincts prevailed, and I flung the animal across the room. Only this time, he attacked me more ferociously, more tenaciously. Try as I might, I could not shake him away the second time.
Whatever it is that has its hold on me is getting smaller, yet, the grasp remains firm. I wonder if it's a fear I need to overcome? Maybe it's a sin of which I need to repent. I don't know. The funny thing is that if I do determine what it is that has me in his jaws, I almost fear the dream will go away. Ironic. Truly, it is a nightmare, and yet it is so familiar to me that if I never have the dream again, I think I might miss it.
I John 4:18-19--"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us."
When I read this verse, I felt a little disturbed. Fear and love. I never put the two together before now. Maybe it's not something I fear that is causing the dream. Maybe instead it's something I don't love. Don't love? I am a Christian. I am supposed to love everyone and everything. And yet I fear that perhaps there is something or someone I don't. Today, I pray that God will reveal his truth to me in the light so that what haunts me in the night will no longer have power over me.
Thinking about this now, I realize that that's the way it is with sin, too. I've met so many people who are afraid to come to Christ, because for them it means giving up something that is familiar to them--maybe something big like excessive drinking or gambling. But sometimes, giving up something small like a TV show that isn't helpful can be just as difficult. We fear the sacrifice because we think we're being punished, even though the reward is amazing. I love that this verse in I John holds a promise--"Perfect love drives out fear". Jesus Christ is perfect love, and because he fills us, there is no room for fear. Fear and love. Opposites. Antagonists. Us against God. He loved me first. I can give in, give up, or give it my all. If this evening I experience another episode of Night of the Killer Chipmunks, at least I have some scriptural ammunition to use in my counter-attack.
I have a recurring dream. It's unlike other dreams of which I am familiar. I don't dream about public speaking in my underwear or missing important tests. Rarely, do I dream of being chased, falling, or losing my teeth. Maybe my dream isn't all that unique, but I have it so regularly now that I do feel lit belongs to me particularly. It's a vision that has evolved as the years have passed, and I am desperately trying to figure out what it means.
In the dream, an animal approaches me and puts his teeth on my hand. He doesn't clamp down, but just barely touches his teeth to the skin of my hand. I am paralyzed with fear. I'm afraid to jerk away because the animal might clamp down even harder. I remain rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to scream. The animal varies, but this scene is the same. At first, my animal tormentor was a bear, then a hyena, a wolf, and, because the animal's size has been trending downward, eventually a dog. I have been having this dream for years, and most recently, the animal was only a tiny chipmunk. In spite of my sub-conscious recognizing the situation, my instincts prevailed, and I flung the animal across the room. Only this time, he attacked me more ferociously, more tenaciously. Try as I might, I could not shake him away the second time.
Whatever it is that has its hold on me is getting smaller, yet, the grasp remains firm. I wonder if it's a fear I need to overcome? Maybe it's a sin of which I need to repent. I don't know. The funny thing is that if I do determine what it is that has me in his jaws, I almost fear the dream will go away. Ironic. Truly, it is a nightmare, and yet it is so familiar to me that if I never have the dream again, I think I might miss it.
I John 4:18-19--"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us."
When I read this verse, I felt a little disturbed. Fear and love. I never put the two together before now. Maybe it's not something I fear that is causing the dream. Maybe instead it's something I don't love. Don't love? I am a Christian. I am supposed to love everyone and everything. And yet I fear that perhaps there is something or someone I don't. Today, I pray that God will reveal his truth to me in the light so that what haunts me in the night will no longer have power over me.
Thinking about this now, I realize that that's the way it is with sin, too. I've met so many people who are afraid to come to Christ, because for them it means giving up something that is familiar to them--maybe something big like excessive drinking or gambling. But sometimes, giving up something small like a TV show that isn't helpful can be just as difficult. We fear the sacrifice because we think we're being punished, even though the reward is amazing. I love that this verse in I John holds a promise--"Perfect love drives out fear". Jesus Christ is perfect love, and because he fills us, there is no room for fear. Fear and love. Opposites. Antagonists. Us against God. He loved me first. I can give in, give up, or give it my all. If this evening I experience another episode of Night of the Killer Chipmunks, at least I have some scriptural ammunition to use in my counter-attack.
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