"The whole outlook of mankind might be changed if we could all believe that we dwell under a friendly sky and that the God of heaven, though exalted in power and majesty, is eager to be friends with us." - A.W. Tozer

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Friday, November 11, 2011

Do You Dream?

I’ve always been fascinated with dreams. They’re such a peculiar, unpredictable characteristic of animate life. Rarely are dreams a true reflection of reality (at least my dreams). They combine real people and circumstances, but in ways that are nothing short of bizarre – even creepy. Dreams can be like looking at Picasso’s paintings: you know it’s a person’s face, but the eyes, ears, nose and mouth aren’t where they’re supposed to be.

Recently my wife and I were out on a Sunday afternoon walk. After our usual rundown of the week’s events, parenting issues and the budget I expressed to her a point of struggle. It wasn’t the first time we had talked about this particular “issue” of mine (I’m glad she’s a patient listener). But this time she challenged me with something I’m still mulling over. She asked me if I ever dream with God.

For you Seinfeld groupies, her question gave me a mini version of the Cosmo Kramer full-body shudder. Dream with God? What does that mean? Dreams can be so…weird. And dreams are…dreams. Out there. Speculative. Unattainable. Why would I dream with God?

Now, you need to understand that I’m a very practical, realistic, by-the-book dude. I’m a rule follower. Careful and cautious. Some might say boring. I don’t like to presume or push. I like achievable goals and well-defined expectations. Things tangible – not dreamy.

But my wife is a wise woman. My ideal helper and completer. I take her seriously. So, I pondered her question and discovered I haven’t really dreamed with God. At least not since I was a child when I dreamed of being a missionary among cannibals – Bible in one hand, machete in the other. So why did my dreaming stop?

Perhaps my dreamlessness reveals a lack of trust? Maybe I don’t believe God is worthy of my dreams? That he can’t or won’t meet my deepest desires? Maybe I’m afraid my wishes are out of bounds? That I’d be wasting God’s time – and mine – with thoughts that go beyond my present experience. Perhaps I’m afraid of hearing “no”? I can easily resign to wondering why I would even dream in the first place.

Dreaming with God – or anyone else – is exposing. Expressing dreams brings soul-level nakedness. Dreams can’t be hidden by façades. Instead they reveal the truest desires of our heart. And to share them can be scary. Few of us haven’t had an experience of sharing our most tender hopes to an audience that reacts with laughter, scoffing, doubt or a cool nonchalance.

Still, I return to my wife’s veiled encouragement: dream with God. Okay. But that means I must move beyond my small and predictable perspective. I’ve got to muster courage and release tightly bound hopes. Hopes that seem audacious. Presumptuous. Bold. This feels uncomfortable, even disrespectful. Can I really have full expression (i.e. dream) with our very powerful, all-knowing, in control of everything God of the universe?

Absolutely.

The week after that Sunday walk, I prayed. As I did, I ventured into dreamland. I verbalized what lurked in my heart’s hidden places. I spoke to God about hopes I have for myself in regard to the “issue” I was wrestling with. I moved carefully. He received lovingly. It felt good. It was right. I was dreaming with God.

I now work each day to bring my big stuff to my big God. Sure, He already knows my dreams. But it’s good to talk about them. It has helped open the door to a fuller understanding of who God is, as well as who I am. It has caused me to reconsider my purpose and unique design. Engaging God with my dreams has energized my personal mission and inflated my motivation. It has brought me peace.

When I don’t dream with God I miss the best fulfillment of the work to which He’s called me. Dreaming with God brings Him glory, and me joy. It brings a more meaningful meshing of my story with His. Dreaming allows me to experience more of the mystery and wonder of a God who can do “immeasurably more” than anything I can dream.

Ephesians 3:20-21 NIV Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

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