Resurrection Dreaming
I dreamed the most wonderful dream last night. Well, the resolution of it was wonderful. I am a dreamer. My sister, Cherry, is a dreamer. Every few days, our morning coffee conversations begin with, "You won't believe what I dreamed last night..." A lot of what we dream is picked up from life's residuals. The dreams are long, vivid, and intoxicating.
I was driving Cherry's van. (Don't ask. I have no clue why I was driving the purple grocery getter.) The Kirby kids were with me. I didn't recognize the road we were on, but in the dream,I did, and there was an urgency to get somewhere. To say that things were in a state of civil unrest is quite the understatement. As we arrived in the town we were traveling to, my heart was clenched by fear. I literally feared for my children's and my life. Roads were torn up, and we had to drive onto sidewalks to pass through bumper-to-bumper traffic. Looters were busting open abandoned storefronts. Violence was all around us. Only a very few people still appeared to have ownership and occupancy of their property. There was some disconnect at this point, and then we were in a huge home on the outskirts of the city occupied by many families. We had driven for miles and miles to get there and saw no open gas stations on our way. The gauge said we had 18.5 miles to go before we ran out of gas. To my relief,f Eddie was there with others I recognized. I felt a bit more secure in this "safe house," but still extremely uneasy and fearful.
Another disconnect in the dream, and I am alone. In a tiny apartment back in the city. Not sure why or how I ended up there, but I was waiting for Eddie to arrive with a van full of gas and our kids. I was so horribly afraid. I could hear all sorts of commotion down on the darkened streets and running through the interior halls of the complex. Sirens. Yelling. Gunshots. The apartment was deserted. The heavy thickness of the possibility that death waited outside the door for me loomed.
I sat on the brown leather couch just waiting for who knows what. There was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a very large man and an older companion standing there trying to peep inside. I flung the door open wide, and said with a boldness that even surprised me, "None of this stuff is mine except the clothes I have on and my purse. You can have either, but please don't take anything else." They laughed in my face, but left. I closed the door, locked it back, and sat on the couch Trembling. Crying. Paralyzed by fear. Wanting desperately to be reunited with my family.
In the twinkling of a moment...In walks my beautiful Jeremy! I literally jumped off the couch and ran to meet him at the door. I flung my arms around him and held him so tightly. In true Jeremy fashion, he smiled and looked at me like, "Mom, why are you making such a fuss over me?" We sat on the couch together and talked. I can't remember what was exchanged verbally, but what I do recall is how I felt. Complete. Total. Love.
All the fear drained instantly from me when Jeremy walked through the door, and was replaced with the deepest, giddy joy I have ever felt. I didn't care who or what walked through the door. It didn't matter. I felt completely safe, secure, and elated. I just stared into his beautiful, brown eyes and smiled a deep inner peace.
Here we are, sitting on the brown leather couch. Caught between the uncertainty of Good Friday and the elation found on Easter morning. Sitting with our Anxiety. Confusion. Discomfort. Fractured relations. Broken hearts. Shattered dreams. The distinct difference is that we know who is going to bust through that door. We anticipate Jesus coming with power on high, to transform our brokenness into something beautiful.
When you find yourself brought low to the grave and all there is for you to do is sit and wait, be gentle with yourself and those surrounding you. When you least expect it, Christ will come through the door to eternity and usher you into a dreamy world filled with Wonder. Security. Freedom. Excitement. Wholeness. Reconciliation. Peace. In these soul-grinding, in-between spaces, it is enough for us to wait 3 days...
I was driving Cherry's van. (Don't ask. I have no clue why I was driving the purple grocery getter.) The Kirby kids were with me. I didn't recognize the road we were on, but in the dream,I did, and there was an urgency to get somewhere. To say that things were in a state of civil unrest is quite the understatement. As we arrived in the town we were traveling to, my heart was clenched by fear. I literally feared for my children's and my life. Roads were torn up, and we had to drive onto sidewalks to pass through bumper-to-bumper traffic. Looters were busting open abandoned storefronts. Violence was all around us. Only a very few people still appeared to have ownership and occupancy of their property. There was some disconnect at this point, and then we were in a huge home on the outskirts of the city occupied by many families. We had driven for miles and miles to get there and saw no open gas stations on our way. The gauge said we had 18.5 miles to go before we ran out of gas. To my relief,f Eddie was there with others I recognized. I felt a bit more secure in this "safe house," but still extremely uneasy and fearful.
Another disconnect in the dream, and I am alone. In a tiny apartment back in the city. Not sure why or how I ended up there, but I was waiting for Eddie to arrive with a van full of gas and our kids. I was so horribly afraid. I could hear all sorts of commotion down on the darkened streets and running through the interior halls of the complex. Sirens. Yelling. Gunshots. The apartment was deserted. The heavy thickness of the possibility that death waited outside the door for me loomed.
I sat on the brown leather couch just waiting for who knows what. There was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a very large man and an older companion standing there trying to peep inside. I flung the door open wide, and said with a boldness that even surprised me, "None of this stuff is mine except the clothes I have on and my purse. You can have either, but please don't take anything else." They laughed in my face, but left. I closed the door, locked it back, and sat on the couch Trembling. Crying. Paralyzed by fear. Wanting desperately to be reunited with my family.
All the fear drained instantly from me when Jeremy walked through the door, and was replaced with the deepest, giddy joy I have ever felt. I didn't care who or what walked through the door. It didn't matter. I felt completely safe, secure, and elated. I just stared into his beautiful, brown eyes and smiled a deep inner peace.
Here we are, sitting on the brown leather couch. Caught between the uncertainty of Good Friday and the elation found on Easter morning. Sitting with our Anxiety. Confusion. Discomfort. Fractured relations. Broken hearts. Shattered dreams. The distinct difference is that we know who is going to bust through that door. We anticipate Jesus coming with power on high, to transform our brokenness into something beautiful.
When you find yourself brought low to the grave and all there is for you to do is sit and wait, be gentle with yourself and those surrounding you. When you least expect it, Christ will come through the door to eternity and usher you into a dreamy world filled with Wonder. Security. Freedom. Excitement. Wholeness. Reconciliation. Peace. In these soul-grinding, in-between spaces, it is enough for us to wait 3 days...
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