What Dreams Are Made of...

I have ones sometimes that feel like more than the flotsam of the sleeping mind. Friends of mine know it. Some have even benefited from this type of dream when I have it of/for them, but lately the dreams loom larger tham my own life and my own circle of friends. I'm trying to grow bolder about sharing the ones that feel larger than my own little story as a blade of grass on the face of the earth. This is one of those dreams.

I should say first that I had a related one a few years ago, had it before the one that looms large in my mind right now. In the earlier one, I was assigned by God the task of visiting many churches. I was sent to check the foam level on the floor. After completing this assignment, I reported back to God that the foam was dissipating and somehow my dream-self knew this was a good thing. Even by the time I had that dream, I knew to look to God for an explanation for the dream's more bizarre elements, and so I wasn't surprised when I learned scripture explains that foam in a little instructional passage from the book of Jude:

For certain men have crept in unnoticed, who long ago were marked out for this condemnation, ungodly men, who turn the grace of our God into lewdness and deny the only Lord God and our Lord Jesus Christ. But I want to remind you, though you once knew this, that the Lord, having saved the people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed those who did not believe. Woe to them! For they have gone in the way of Cain, have run greedily in the error of Balaam for profit, and perished in the rebellion of Korah. These are spots in your love feasts, while they feast with you without fear, serving only themselves. raging waves of the sea, foaming up their own shame; wandering stars for whom is reserved the blackness of darkness forever.

The foam of unrecognized shame in the self-serving. Not surprising to have this dream--we're a pretty foamy nation by that definition.

I mention that dream because the other one alsohad that foam in it. I dreamed I was in a church that was a labyrinth of stone-walled rooms. I was invited there by a real-life friend (Pennye) whose Chiristian fiber I greatly respect in actual life. But while her dream-self was away from me, busy with other tasks, there suddenly began a great war. And Pagan witches and warlocks joined Rainbow people and followers of Native American religions. All came together to fight against a common enemy. Their purpose was to reveal what ended up being sleeping pigs stuck in frozen foam. It all happened in the dark of night there in that stoneblock church. The pigs had been virtually invisible before these ambiguous armies came to bear upon them. The dream felt significant when I had it--one of those that colored the days that followed it with a weightiness of anticipation; but as is often the case, the dream moved to a shadowy place in my mind as time passed and days and days of waking life happened. Years of waking life happened.

Last week, though, I read "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," and today I saw Avatar. Was it my experience of these two in such close proximity that brought the dream crashing back on me full force for the first time in years? Now my heart swells, caught up to see this: a Story has been given for the telling, given and faithfully told in quadrants unexpected--and for what purpose? So that the sleeping pigs (do you know what pigs represent in Christian religious symbolism?) will be made visible in their foam coccoons--whereas before they were able to maintain their invisibility.

This verse comes back to haunt the dream in even greater definition as I've been exposed to these two bits of story-telling: For certain men have crept in unnoticed, who long ago were marked out for this condemnation...What greater condemnation would reveal a shame-locked pig than for it to discover that the very ones it cast stones at are better at telling the Great Story than it is...Don't you know God could raise up sons of Abraham from these stones on the ground?!?Jesus cried it out, but we are sleepy and forgetful, and foam cushions us against discomfort.

Yet God in His wisdom sees that we experience it anyway, like herds of happy sheep, never deeply comprehending what we're learning from this One of Highest Perspective; and so it should be, else our prejudices might get in the way of His more significant instruction. I think it is obvious, He is not finished with parables yet. So...

How did that dream end? I believe I remember the pigs being put on a cart that rolls away, though not by the work of human hands--but I'm not sure of all that. I'd have to retrieve dream notes from pretty far back to see what I recorded. This, though, I do remember with certainty: those who remain at the end of the Battle to Reveal the Pigs pause for just a bit, uncertain when the pigs are gone. They wonder what they are now called to do and who they are to be in this place. And, they wonder how to feel about each other in the aftermath of this strange war.

Is it strange to feel called to pray for dream people? Whether it is or not, I feel called to pray for these ones who wait at the end, wait to learn what to do, who to be. I pray for these ones who wait to decide what to believe once they learn that the church doesn't have to be a place to hide pigs any more...