In my lifetime, I have had some pretty interesting, significant dreams in some very poignant places. I had a dream in the Jerusalem Hilton that changed the course of my life when I was a young man.
I don't know that this is that significant, and I don't know if I should share it with you, but here it is.
It was my first night at the Pastor's camp in California. In my dream, I have all of the photo albums of my life. Now we have photo albums at home, but the albums in my dream had everything. Everything that happened to me in my entire life, even the things that you don't remember.
I went through every album and pulled certain pages. Then I started to go and call a friend to tell them about the pictures and the memories. I stopped. I looked at the pile of pages that I wanted to show them. It was a big pile, and many of the pages carried difficult memories.
I became disappointed. No one will want to see this. No one will care.
I said to myself, "why do you want to show this to your friend anyway?"
I answered myself, "someone has to know."
In my dream I heard God's voice saying, "I know. I know what happened to you."
I said, "and someone has to care."
Again in my dream I heard God's voice say, "I care, and that is enough, forever."
I woke up. I went to the computer and typed it out.
There it is. I think there is a message there for me. Maybe for you too.
It's a beautiful day in God's world, be sure to see the good.
Jeff,
ReplyDeleteHere is a poem I often use at at funerals.
ALONE I walked the ocean strand;
A pearly shell was in my hand:
I stooped and wrote upon the sand
My name—the year—the day.
As onward from the spot I passed,
One lingering look behind I cast;
A wave came rolling high and fast,
And washed my lines away.
And so, methought, ’t will shortly be
With every mark on earth from me:
A wave of dark oblivion’s sea
Will sweep across the place
Where I have trod the sandy shore
Of time, and been, to be no more,
Of me—my day—the name I bore,
To leave nor track nor trace.
And yet, with Him who counts the sands
And holds the waters in his hands,
I know a lasting record stands
Inscribed against my name,
Of all this mortal part has wrought,
Of all this thinking soul has thought,
And from these fleeting moments caught
For glory or for shame.
Hannah Gould