I dreamt last nite of a fictional girl on the streets with whom we were working with. She called very late one evening, saying she wanted to leave the streets and could I come pick her up. In my dream I leapt from my bed, quickly readied myself, and drove to the central plaza where we had agreed to meet. That is all.
Moments later the alarm on my phone went off announcing a start to a new day. I slowly dragged myself out of bed and stumbled downstairs in the still dark morning to greet brother sun and the God that made him.
Now I am thinking two things.
First off, I am thinking why in my dream was I so quick to mobilize in order to pick up the street girl, yet to arise and speak to my Lord this morning I struggled. One answer may be that I focus so much more on my doing than on my being. Another, and not exclusive to the first, may be that whether going to the girl or to God, I am also going to the other – that the girl is God disguised, and that through prayer to God I can engage with those I pray for. Yet, with the face of need it is easier to run to God, than in the cloak of silence and invisibility in which one often finds Him in the silence of prayer and meditation.
Second, that the joy that accompanied the event of helping this girl leave the streets was not part of the dream, but a real joy waiting to be fulfilled. This was not a dream about flying or pink elephants. The streets are real, the kids are real, the need is real. Thus, the dream is real. What remains to be seen is if my reaction is real.
It rained last nite – an exciting thunder and lightning storm after a spell of dryness. I got to thinking about how worms, when it rains, boot it to the surface, flop around in the wet, and more often than not get eaten up by birds. Maybe God is a bird, and is sending rain to coax us out where she can gobble us up and make us a part of her.