Considerably less than blurry eyes, I started my morning in the normal way. Get dressed, hook the dogs up on their leashes and take them out of the apartment for their morning bathroom run.
At somewheres between 5:30 to 6 AM all three of us walk out towards the green, under the few, sparse street lights. Ellise is the oldest, and she almost always ready to “go.” Even if she is half awake and walking sideways. Razzle just plods along with her ears back, to do what has to be done without waking up.
I just put myself on autopilot, barely awake with a slight pain in my neck from my pillow. As we reach the green, “doggy area” on the other side of the parking lot I become aware of part of an old Rich Mullins song in my head.
Quickly one of the dogs starts to water the grass as soon as she hits it. And I start to become aware of a dream I had last night. It was a little confusing and honestly, I have no desire to remember it.
At this point I only have two priorities. That the dogs hurry up and finish so that we can return and have coffee.
We climb the slight hillside to stand among the trees as Razzle just stands there with her morning look of, “Why am I out here?”
Finally Elisse go’s “poo” as I start hearing part of the Rich Mullins song play louder. Something about, “gourmet meal out of just cornbread and beans.”
I take care of Elisse’s deposit. And still I have no interest in remembering last nights dream. So the song starts playing a little louder and longer as we continue to move along the hillside to the “doggy station.”
“Talk about your miracles, Talk about your faith.
My dad he could make things grow, Out of Indiana clay.
Mom could make a gourmet meal, Out of just cornbread and beans.
And they worked to give faith hands and feet, And somehow gave it wings.”
We continued walking and even though I recognize that the Lord is trying to get my attention. I am still working not to remember. All I want is the dogs to finish their business and sit on the couch with my coffee.
As we blunder our way to the doggy station in the dark. I start recalling parts of the dream, secretly hoping that I won’t.
Standing at the station, Razzle gives me the “look” and starts to squat down to do what she needs to do. And then, darn, I just remembered a key part of the dream. The part of it where I said to myself in the dream. That this dream is meant for the whole Body of Christ.
Ok, so now I am stuck with it. It’s obvious, time to settle into it. An release my morning stubbornness.
Walking back Razzle is now happy to get back to bed. Ellise is aggravated she cannot spend more time sniffing every inch of the outside world. And I am still hoping for coffee while processing the dream.
In the apartment, Razzle hits the bed and I accept a cup of coffee from Kathy as she sits down.
After two sips I start to tell her the dream. Only to find that I need to restart because her mind needs a little more coffee as well.
What was it Capt. Janeway on Voyager said? “Coffee, the finest organic suspension ever devised.”
Restarting I tell her the dream was in parts so that her mind tries not to link it like a story.
There were two older men (Vietnam era) with white beards who had just apparently told the truth to a crowd of people. The people did not accept it so they wandered into their basement apartment.
As soon as they did two younger men who looked more like weight lifters (strongmen) came over and started to attach wires from the building to their door knob. With the obvious desire to kill them if they try and come out once more.
I stand there in the dream with “someone else.” And tell the men that we are witnesses to what they are doing and that we will tell the local sheriff. They ignore us so we leave.
When we turn to leave, everyone in the neighborhood is now watching us, in a highly uncomfortable way. With our desire to leave heightened, we get into an old truck as they start to walk up with anger in their faces.
The dream seen changes and now we are walking up to a building and I have “something” in my hands. We enter and it soon becomes obvious that I know everyone inside.
The buildings, people and everything seems like it’s the 1940’s in Europe. “Be careful what you say or do because who knows who is watching.”
We only greet each other with a smile, but continue passing through the building. So we reach the other side and we can see the Sheriff and his wife (in 1940’s clothes) walking towards a restaurant.
My un-named friend decides to walk over and talk to them in the restaurant. I decide to hold my position.
As soon as all three of them enter I become aware of three strong men standing on the street corner watching. Grabbing a radio, that I did not know I had. I pressed the button to tell him to “get out of there, it’s a trap. You have been made.”
I then step out of the building to find the three strong men standing at the door waiting for me.
I smile, and pretend a fake story in the hope of getting away. “Oh, hey guys. I was just looking for you.” Lifting up a paper bag I had in my hands for them to see. “Look what I found on the other side of the building.”
So I conclude the telling of the dream by saying that, two of the three looked in the bag and quickly I consider tossing it in their faces so that I could run.
Kathy takes another sip of coffee as she thinks about the dream.
I speak up, tying the dream and the song together. “I think, in the times that are coming. The Body of Christ will be living off miracles and faith. Glad for even the simplest things like cornbread and beans.”
This jogs something in her mind as she starts to tell me about her aggravation. By reading about all the bi-polar silliness on Facebook.
This leads to a talk about the disintegration of culture and common sense. And it quickly reminds me of the time I tossed a snake out of a building. Watching it land in front of several chickens in the driveway back home.
Three big roosters jumped on it. Each grabbed a piece and pulled. Soon each had a part of the snake as others joined in spreading it further.
Somewheres in the back of my mind, I think, “our culture is turning into a pack of vultures.”
So now I wonder about the implications. The first human reaction is to see all the negative in dreams like this. However, I know part of this is meant as encouragement.
The song, was a song Rich sang to his parents who had a hard time in life. It was a simple song that said “Hey, you made it, God got you through it. You may never be picture perfect.
But as you work all this out, you will work to give faith hands and feet and even wings.”
Now isn’t that the start of miracles?