Dad, Get Me Outta Here!

I had a dream the other night, one of those vivid dreams that you awake in the midst of, not entirely sure that it wasn't somehow real. Now, a few days later, much of the detail has drained away, but the core of it is still powerfully with me. I think I may remeber it always.

I was somewhere away from home, and I was trying to leave. It was time to pack up and head home, something like the end of the Spring semester of college. There were armloads of clothes I was trying to pack into a car to take home, but there was a problem. Either I couldn't figure out how to fit everything into the car, or perhaps I somehow couldn't find or retrieve the things I needed to pack in there. But whichever the cause, I was getting more and more disturbed and distressed, because IT WAS TIME TO GO! And with that horrifying slowness and repitition of dreams, I kept trying and trying and trying to get my stuff ready to go, and it just wouldn't happen.

But then, the cavalry arrived. My parents and some random aunt showed up in their big old car, with plenty of room to take care of my stuff. They saved me! And I had never even told them I had a problem. The oh-so-vivid part of my dream was this : weeping uncontrollably in my fathers arms, in relief and joy that he came and took care of this thing I couldn't handle on my own. Sweet, sweet relief! I don't think I've ever felt so thoroughly rescued in either my life or dreams!

But here's the funny thing: I don't really have that close and intimate of a relationship with my Dad. Sure, he'd come to the rescue if he knew I was in trouble, but I can't imagine him piecing together a problem I hadn't told him about. And I surely can't imagine myself weeping in his arms in response. So that dream left me at loose ends - dealing with such a strong emotional response to something so unlikely. What did it mean?

I never did come up with an answer on my own, and as the days have passed the dream has faded to the one powerful image at the end, and I haven't thought about it for a while. But you know, I had a little more insight today. At a random moment, I stopped to consider my Lord Jesus. And as I turned my mind toward him, it popped into my mind that the dream I'd had was really about Him! Wow!

He was the person who saved me. He was the one who knew my difficulties even though I hadn't asked for help. He knew how much it meant to me, even though it probably looked like a minor problem to an observer. Jesus knew my need - Jesus saved me - Jesus received my tears of gratitude. And Jesus told me that dream was really about Him.

I could go on and on right now, comparing aspects of that dream to the Gospel message and the Christian life, but I think I've said enough. I'll let you think about it for yourself. Father's Day is oming, too. Pretty cool, huh?!