I’ve had a dream

All of us have dreams, those series of thoughts, images and emotions occurring during the night while we sleep.  

Some dreams are peaceful and good, mere reflections of events that have happened in our lives or events we would like to take place.  Some dream are disturbing and bad, nightmares arising from fears deep within.   Some dreams are just totally whacked-out, having no connection to reality at all.   And, believe it or not, there are websites devoted to helping you understand your dreams.

I’ve said all of that to say this – last night I had a very interesting dream.   I am not really sure how I would classify it, whether good, bad or whacked, but I thought I would share it with you nonetheless.   Here goes.

I dreamed I was invited to speak at one of the congregations for which I served as a minister.   Upon arriving at the building and entering the auditorium I was greeted with stares of disgust as I took my place on one of the pews.   As I sat in the pew I began to notice a disturbing trend, upon entering the building people would sit down, read from a piece of paper that had been handed to them and then begin staring at me with the same look of disgust as everyone else.  

As you have probably already guessed, I had to get my hands on one of those pieces of paper they were reading to find out what was going on.   When I did, the discovery made me sick at my stomach.  The paper was actually a letter my ex-wife had written to outline the mistakes I had made and detailed my sin.

My reading of the letter was disrupted by a voice over the PA System.   Service was beginning and my time to speak was drawing near.

I didn’t know this before arriving, but I quickly learned that I was not the only person scheduled to speak at this gathering.

The other speaker began his sermon by referencing the letter.   As I listened to him reading it before the congregation, pausing only to reference scripture showing the sinfulness of my actions, I could feel the stares all over again.

When it was my turn to speak, I left my prepared speech on the pew and walked toward the microphone.  As I turned to face the crowd I had no idea what I was going to say, or what my sermon would be.   Nevertheless, I opened my mouth and began.

“If you came here tonight to hear my side of the story then the following words are for you – I’m guilty.   But, if you came here tonight to hear HIS SIDE of the story then the following words are for you…”

·        His side and back were ripped to shreds as he was beaten for our sins.

·        His side was pierced as he sacrificed himself on the cross for our sins.

Yes, I am guilty, as guilty as the woman caught in the very act and brought before Jesus, as guilty as the woman who was shacking up with someone to whom she wasn’t married.  Guilty.  Guilty.  Guilty.   My side offers death, but his offers forgiveness and hope.

Here I stand, nothing in my hands to bring, simply to his cross I will cling.  Where do you stand?    Whose side are you focusing on?”

At that point in my dream, I woke up.   I have been thinking about it all day, wondering if there is a message in it for me.   What do you think?  

All I know is that the last part is true, nothing in my hands I bring, simply to his cross I cling.

Did you dream any interesting dreams last night?

I know, but…

The label reads:  Kills 99.9% of All Germs**.   Sounds impressive, doesn’t it?

Of course it does, until you notice the two little asterisks at the end of the statement.  Those asterisks refer to additional information which reveals that this antibacterial disinfectant spray kills 99.9% of all germs on hard and nonporous surfaces.

Ours is a day of asterisks.   From advertisements to record books, claims are made and then explained, or justified, by those little bitty symbols. 

All of this has me wondering if we are guilty of using asterisks in our application of scripture.

Can you think of any?   I can think of a few but will wait to reveal them as I want to see if you are thinking along the same lines. 

Weekend report

The photo to the right was taken the last day of our camping trip at Slick Rock near Hardy, Arkansas.  In spite of bites, bruises, burns and the constant cry of civilization from one of our children, we had a great time splishing and splashing our way down the South Fork River. 

We arrived at the camp site Friday evening and set up the tent, a three-room paradise complete with air mattresses.  After set up, we rushed back to town to pick up drinks, snacks and various supplies.  Then, it was off to bed for an early start on Saturday morning.

Saturday began a little rough as we couldn’t decide how many canoes we needed.  We decided on two and three inner-tubes, which ended up being a mistake.  We put in the river and began our float.   After several hours floating, paddling and swimming it began to rain.   In an attempt to make better time, we loaded each canoe with three people and tied the tubes to one of the canoes.   It didn’t take long to realize that it is hard to make any progress pulling tubes behind you.   We eventually let the some of the air out of one of the tubes, stuffed it into the canoe and used it as a seat.  The other two were stacked and tied to the back of the same canoe.    We looked like a typical “rookies” but we were able to make better time this way.   Until the slow leak in the canoe became a problem.  Taking on water made the boat unstable, and with one hyper-active boy in the canoe, tipping over became the norm.  But, we made it back to came safe and sound.

Enjoyed time with my family, as well as visiting cousins and uncles I haven’t seen in a while. 

We were completely worn out and longing for home by the time Monday rolled around.  Actually, we were longing for some of the luxuries of home — hot showers, personal beds.  The funny part is that as soon as we arrived home our two boys rushed into the shower and, as they put it, proceded to wash the skank off them.   Garrett washed everything twice!

From left to right, Alan (boyfriend), Ashley, Garrett, ME (stuck in the back), Gerald (too sexy for his shirt) and Candace.  Look at those smiles.

What did you and yours do for the holiday?

In memory of

Today, as I was driving to work I began thinking about this upcoming Memorial Day holiday weekend, about the meaning behind it and about what it means to me in my life.   And, probably like most of you, honesty demands that I confess that Memorial Day holds no real meaning in my life other than spending time with my family at the river and having an extra day away from work.  

I realize that what I just wrote seems to indicate that I am not grateful for the sacrifices that have been made in securing the freedoms that I enjoy this day and will enjoy over the next few days as my family and I spend time at the river.  But, nothing could be further from the truth as I am fully aware that I am able to spend this weekend with my family, fishing, floating, splashing and swimming because of the sacrifices that have been made and are continuing to be made in various parts of our world.

Billy Ray Cyrus released a song back in the 1990’s entitled Some Gave All.   The song served to remind us of the sacrifices made to secure the freedoms we enjoy and encouraged us not to forget those who gave their all.   The chorus reads:  All gave some, some gave all, some stood through for the red, white and blue, and some had to fall.  If you ever think of me, think of all your liberties and recall, some gave all.

I am very thankful for the sacrifices spoken of in this song, and for which this upcoming weekend is dedicated. 

But, even though the physical freedoms I enjoy are great, they pale in comparison to the spiritual freedom that is mine through the sacrifice of another who also gave all.   He sacrificed equality with the Father, wrapped himself in human form and sacrificed himself upon the cross so that you and I could be free.   The lyrics to his song would read, as oft as you eat this bread, and drink this fruit of the vine, do so in remembrance of me and recall, I gave all.

If you read the first paragraph above and wonder why the physical Memorial Day seems to mean so little to me, it is because the spiritual means so much.  

This weekend, enjoy your freedoms, splish splash your way to a great time, basking in the physical freedom provided by the sacrifices of many.  But, don’t forget the one who sacrificed all so that you could be free indeed.

Thoughts on prayer

Last night, as we continued our Wednesday evening video series entitled Storm, Kyle Eidelman addressed several questions concerning prayer.  As he has in all of the videos preceding this one, Kyle did an excellent job providing practical answers to some very difficult questions. 

But, as is usually the case, there was that one comment that really resonated within me and challenged me to think about prayer, and in particular, my prayer life.   Kyle stated that trust should precede faith in our prayer lives.

How do you feel about that comment?   Do you agree or disagree with it?  

Kyle’s point is that prayer begins with trust – a complete trust that God, according to his knowledge and understanding, will do whatever is best for my life.  When I begin my prayer with that kind of trust I am telling God that I know that life isn’t about me, it is about him and his glory.  

Think about it for a moment.  Let it sink in.   Then, ask yourself if this type of trust is part of your prayer life, your communication, with God.

I think all of us want a deeper, more meaningful prayer life.   I think many of us would admit that our prayer life suffers and falls way short of what it should be.   I also think many of us would admit to being frustrated at times, thinking that God isn’t listening to or answering our prayers.  Could the reason be that we don’t completely trust God to do whatever is best for us?   Could the reason be that we are too focused on self, thinking that life is about us and our wants?

I thought he had a great point about trust.  What do you think?