I dream every night. All night. in color. Usually I remember them for about 2 minutes. For some reason, I still remember vividly a dream that I had on Wednesday night.
We lived in a ranch house that was painted chocolate brown. The whole family was there. Bad news had come to our city. A volcano had popped up about 50 miles away. Seismologists expected it to blow. They warned that when it blew, it would destroy the entire continent. It would be as devastating as the event that took out the dinosaurs. There is a real sense of gloom and doom in the community.
We are sitting around the house and we hear a big explosion. Everyone knows that this is it. We gather in the center of the living room floor, kneel down, and hold hands. We are all calling on the name of Jesus. Getting ready to go into the next life. One of the kids whimpers. I say, "everything is ok, it's ok." We go back to calling on the name of Jesus.
You can hear the shock wave coming from the blast. It hits the house and breaks out all the windows. The house sways back and forth. Then surprisingly, it all moves on and it is over. We did not die. We wake up to a really messed up house, and a really messed up community, but we wake up.
I woke up. Dream over.
In college I minored in psychology. I remember talking about dreams in one class. The teacher or the text said that a person will know if a dream means something. Well, I have a feeling about this dream, from the moment that I wake up. I know what it means.
Tough times come in life and people get scared, but we have someone to call on. Christians can have peace in the midst of a storm. The world may change around us. Calamity may strike, but our feet are set on a rock.
No matter what happens today, it is still a beautiful day in God's world, be sure to see the good.
1 comment:
Just reading your blog brought back memories of a similar situation my family faced in Wichita Falls, Tx April 10, 1979. It wasn't a dream--we survived the most devastating tornado in history (at that time). As in your dream, we said our last good-byes, to each other and our 3 daughters, in a tiny little closet. But, we did survive--we lost most everything, but our spirit. At the time, I gave all the credit to my husband--he knew to run downstairs to safety. I know better now--thank God. And I try to everyday.
Post a Comment