Dreams, Drug Dealers, and Sandpaper, pt. 1

Growing up I have often had dreams that go beyond ordinary. As early as 3 years old, I would have dreams of invisible enemies chasing my siblings and me. In the dreams I would shuffle my brothers and I into my parent’s car, start the engine, push the gear into reverse – all while I try to figure out how I would drive fast enough since my feet couldn’t reach the pedal. Not once did fear enter my dream, just the intense sense of purpose and urgency of the moment. Ha-ha! I know what you are thinking, “crazy dreams for a kid!”

As a kid I was always caught up in the thrill of finishing my school work faster than everyone else, so I could get more work for extra credit. Again, I know what you are thinking, “NERD!” Go ahead, have your laugh, now back to the story. Another reoccurring dream breaking into my nerd moments at school (i.e. day dreams), should have been even more disturbing to me.

These daydreams would bombard my focus, never really slowing down my drive or how fast I was working. Yet, inwardly everything would start rushing faster and faster and faster, until all my thoughts were so fast that the actions I was actually doing seemed to be slow motion. Then my mindset would break into this vision of a massive beating heart. Bound to this massive heart with thick rope – you know the kind that you imagine boats using to dock at bay – would be a person. Every dream had a different person. Some I knew, most I didn’t. They were so broken hearted. Some were crying, and I could feel their anguish. Some were angry, and their bitterness blinded my emotions. Some were hopeless, and their emptiness was overwhelming. Others didn’t even know what was coming, they were just there. Out of the corner of this picture a large hand holding a needle would glide toward the heart. In a moment, the heart was pricked, burst, and darkness…the vision was over.

Again, not once did fear accompany these dreams. At these moments, the only thing that was stirred in my heart was to stop everything and pray. Pray for that person, the person I knew, or the person I did not know. I never questioned where these dreams came from, or who the people were. Even if I didn’t know them, I knew that God did, and he gave me a glimpse of understanding to what was the crux of their matter. The memories of these moments often remind me that God is at work in the hearts and minds of children more than we allow our adult minds to believe.

 

To be continued….

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