The Football Field

(Continued from https://dreamsofdunamis.wordpress.com/2016/11/04/still-here/)

The dream begins with me running on a football field, holding a football. This in itself, surprised me, for I detest football. It was not something I would do, yet there I was, running with the ball. I had a general idea of where the end goal posts were, and I knew I was running in the right direction.

There was no one else on the field that I could see; no one from my team, and no one from the opposing team.

It was in the dead of night, extremely cold, and it was snowing so bad that at times you couldn’t see more than a foot ahead. The wind howled and blew in gusts, swirling about, making mesmerizing patterns in the air. The playing field still had the big lights on, but they seemed to struggle to cut through all the swirling depths of snow.

I suddenly realized, that I did not have to do what I was doing, so I stopped.

I looked up into the bleachers, and could see about a dozen or so people out there. I sensed there were a few more in the bleachers that were out of my line of sight, but that the rest of the fans had given up supporting the game and had gone home because of the severe weather.

I felt very cold and very alone.

Then as I looked towards the other side of the field, I saw a bus depot. I starred at it. Every now and then I could feel the warmth from its doors gust out towards my face. It looked warm and bright, cheery and good.

So I dropped the ball where I stood, and went into the bus depot.

The warmth there felt wonderful!

I sat there on one of their benches, and watched as loads of people would arrive in a bus, and then transfer themselves onto another bus that would take them on to heaven.

Oh the stories they shared were amazing! They all talked among themselves, explaining from where they had come and how they had got there. The bus driver always interacted with them, and seemed to be very happy with what he heard. There were smiles and oohs and ahs, as the people shared their stories. I listened with rapt attention, whenever a bus rolled in.

As I sat there on the bench and waited for my turn to get on the bus, I faced the football field. The door was as big as a single garage door, and was made of metal. For what seemed like ages, the door remained steadfastly open. But then one day I noticed that the door was slowly closing.

The scene upon the field never changed; every once and a while I’d feel a gust of that frigid cold weather upon my face and shiver. I’d look out into the darkness, but I could not see anyone else out there.

One day I noticed that the door had only a foot or so left to go before being fully closed. But I didn’t care. I had long ago decided never to go back out into that mess again. I had no doubt that where I was, was the best place to be.

A while later, (which seemed like many days without end,) the door finally clicked shut.

The days then seemed to extend on forever, me watching those happy revelers climb onto the bus bound for heaven, and wondering when It would be my turn to get on.

Finally, when I was beginning to wonder if it would ever be my turn, they called my name.

I walked up into the bus, expecting to be able to share my story with everyone else on the bus, but there was only one other person on that bus besides me and the bus driver, and she sat huddled down in the very back, and was unwilling to talk to me. The bus driver also refused to talk with me; he couldn’t even bring himself to look at me.

Then I realized with a pang, that he was ASHAMED of me!

As the bus began to depart from the depot, I woke up.
*

1 Corinthians 9:24-27 ESV “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”

Isaiah 40:31 ESV “But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”

Matthew 24:13 ESV “But the one who endures to the end will be saved.”
TO BE CONTINUED…

Tidal Waves

A dream…

A tidal wave rolled in to the shoreline, surprising many, even though they had been warned that one might come. Some scoffed, (“That’s nothing!”), others became concerned, for they seen the loss that the wave had brought.

We knew that the place where we were now, would not sustain another wave. So we grabbed what we could, (a change of clothes; a special outfit, some odds-n-ends,) and sought a different shelter.

Many others were seeking shelter in the places that were thought to be the strongest, and it was suggested that we go there too, but I kept telling my children, “No, I will go where my God has told me to go.”

Panic was beginning to sweep over the people, as they watched the next tidal wave come in. People rushed to their shelters, some running to and fro, not knowing what they should do. Some nearest to me had heard what I had said, and then decided to go where we were going, because “If God has told her to go there, then it must be safe!” (They didn’t understand; survival was not my reason for seeking this particular shelter; I went there because God told me to. If it were God’s will for me to die, then at least I would be in the right place at the right time for that to happen.)

We found one of the tallest buildings in the city, (a big high-rise made of brick,) and then went up to the very top, where glass rooms were layered, forming the top floor. We went in, (it was crowded already, but God made room for us,) and then He led us into the next one, and the next, till we could go in no farther. God then told us to make sure all the doors and windows were shut, and then bid us to wait.

We watched the waves as they kept coming in, slowly wiping out the shorter buildings below us. The panic we all felt, was severe. We watched water level slowly rise around us, and feared we too, would drown if we stayed where we were. So we looked to get out and move inland, but when we turned our eyes out to that direction, we seen three men dressed in black fatigues, pointing strange guns at us. I sensed the guns were the cause of the tidal waves, but did not understand how. Then I seen a huge tidal wave coming towards us from behind them, and I wondered, “why in the world would a tidal wave be coming from inland?” The wave advanced along with them, like a well-heeled dog following it’s master. I realized with shock, that they were forcing all the people to stay where they were.

So we remained in the glass house, (the room reminded me of a 10 gal. aquarium,) and watched as wave after wave rolled in, each one washing away more people and more shelters, till the waves reached up to our level. The first wave to hit us did no real damage. The people on the floor cheered. But then the next wave came, ripping off the outer glass section, and carrying away all the people within it. Wave after wave came, removing each of the layers of the glass floor, till there was only our container left. I watched as the last wave formed its hump out over the depths of the ocean and thought, “now it is our turn…”

When the final wave came in, it was more like a swell upon the ocean, for the water was already up to our level. Like a big hand, it gently lifted us up, as the building beneath us dissolved into the water, and carried us along in the wave at great speed, until we found ourselves gently placed far inland, on lush green land. We then looked around and found that only those that had survived by ‘chance’, and those that had listened to the Holy Spirit’s guidance and done His will, had survived. As we climbed out of the shelter, I woke up.

* * * *

His Imperfect Wife

My heart drags to post this journal entry here,
Yet the nudging from my Lord and Savior to do so,
Have only strengthened with time and prayer,
and will not go away.

I have been told that there are those out there
Who are currently struggling with issues like these.
So these next few posts, (this one and the past two included,)
Are written for you.

A word of warning concerning this post:
War is ugly, no matter what side you’re on.

Journal entry: April 3rd, 2005

(Note: The past three days I’ve been very sick with bronchitis.
The day after this journal entry, my husband also became sick with this same bug…)

I knew the peace between us wouldn’t last through this illness.

My husband kept asking me to do things,
For him and with him, as if I wasn’t even sick.

I have always told him, (every time I’ve been sick,)
That when I’m sick, all plans are on hold.
No going out for a night on the town,
Getting together with another couple,
Cleaning or re-modeling projects,
EVERYTHING.
But does he listen and take this to heart?

No.

When I awoke today, I felt so miserable,
That when my husband asked me
what I was going to do today,
I told him in all seriousness:
TO BREATHE.

He then asks me questions
Designed to get me to do his will;

“Can you log on to the prescription web site?
I need to access your RX history for taxes.”
“O.K.”, I said, figuring I could do this while I worked on eating my just-made and still-warm lunch.

But problems are encountered in logging on,
And before I knew it, he had me checking up
On two other items of paperwork, as well.
Then, as I’m still struggling to sort out these paper problems,
He clicks something on his Palm Pilot PDA,
(Presumably checking something off his ‘to do’ list,)
then shuts it off & sets it down, turns to me and says:
“O.K…., now, do you want me to help you
clear out and vacuum this room?”

I looked at him first, to see if he was joking,
And when I seen that he was not,
I raised my voice just a notch,
And said very emphatically, “NO!”

He frowned. “Well why not?”

I was so upset by this question,
That I felt my mind buzz blank for a moment,
Before I gave him my answer.
“Because I haven’t even been able
to pause from doing all the other things
you’ve been asking me to do,
to even have a bite of my own lunch!
So, no! I don’t want to! I’m going to eat first!”

He then had the grace to look a bit sheepish,
As he realized the truth of my words, and then backed off enough to let me finish eating my now cold lunch.

Oi! HOW this man could even understand me,
with my voice sounding like a nasally scuba diver
speaking under 30 feet of water, I’ll never know!

Once I finished eating, and finished doing the work
he had requested me to do, we begin clearing out the room.
Mind you, this is heavy once or twice a year cleaning
That I’m trying to do, and to top it off,
My allergies were working overtime,
From all the dust, cat hair, and pollen.
(He had the window open for ‘fresh’ air.)
So by the time we actually came close to finishing,
I was very weak, wheezing, and gasping for air,
And I then stopped and asked my husband to do the rest,
(vacuuming under my desk,)
for I told him that I was on my last molecule of energy,
and I felt like I was about to collapse.
Grumbling, he took the vacuum cleaner
and finished the chore,
but let me know how upset he was,
that I had not told him sooner
that I would not be able to then go downstairs
and fry up the purchased trout for our dinner.

This made me angry again, and I let him know,
That he should not have planned (For certain,)
For me to make or do anything when I’m sick!

He responds, by telling me that I should have told him
Yes or no, yesterday when he mentioned it to me in passing.

(Like how many times would you like me to tell you that
I’M SICK, AND ALL PLANS ARE OFF?!?)

But of course, I go downstairs
(after resting a moment or two,)
and go make the fish for dinner.

Later on that night, right before
(while I’m still weak & struggling to simply breathe,)
he points out on the calendar,
the nights he’s working late for this week.
(Oh No!, I think to myself,
But I need you here when I’m this sick,
To give me a break from the kids,
So I can get some rest!)
He then tells me that he’s not sure
if he should cancel class for Friday, or not.
(At the time of this writing, my husband was a professor at a local college.)
I ask him why he would,
And he tells me that he can combine the last two lessons,
And then give the students a break on Friday.
(Oh, I think to myself, that would be nice for them.)
But then he goes and does the crass and uncaring
(dare I say unthinking?) thing of reminding me
that we would need this Friday off,
in order for us to go camping this weekend.

(AAAGGGHHH!!!!)

I looked at him in shock, anger, and disbelief,
And repeated once again to him,
That no, we can’t go camping this weekend,
BECAUSE I’M SICK!

This time, he slams the calendar down on the desk,
And snarled “that’s right! We can’t, can we!”
He then looks at me fully and says:
“I am so ANGRY that you are sick!”

(Well!!! HE’S angry that I’m sick!!
What am I ? HAPPY? I certainly didn’t choose
To get this sickness, and spend my next two months
Just struggling to breathe in an ocean of green slimy mucus!!!)

“Well then,” I told him, “the next time the neighbor boy
comes over to play with the kids,
and he’s still sounding and acting like he’s still pretty sick,
you’ll know what to tell him!”

(My husband had always de-valued my concerns,
and shut me up when I told him that I don’t want our kids
to play with other sick kids, while they’re still sick.
I don’t know why, But he seems to believe that our children (and me?!?) are like superheroes or something,
Impervious to bacteria, viruses, or colds.
He let them play all together, and now we are all sick
with what this boy had. And so now he blames ME?!?)

As he walks away, my mind is already deciding
That now we are separate again,
And that I will hold myself apart from him,
And not sleep too close to him tonight.

But then God
(yes, He was still there, – amazing, isn’t it?)
reminded me of the futility of such a move.
It would only end up being
a waste of spent time & energy.

But I couldn’t just let it all go, either.
So I said, – much more calmly, “You know, …that really hurt!”

“I know,” he replied with resignation
yet still some anger, in his voice.

And I know, that sooner or later,
With my P.U.S.H. prayers, (Praying Until Something Happens,)
My husband’s heart will soften,
And he will come to terms yet again,
with his imperfect wife.

So, now, I simply have to keep reminding myself
(as Satan tries to incite me against
such a ‘selfish’ & ‘unloving’ husband,)
that this too, shall pass,
and that this is not a big enough issue
to rip our family apart over.

Once again however,
I am reminded of what happens to me
When I take my eyes off Jesus,
And refocus them on my husband.
That man would keep me doing his will
running me ragged, telling me to just keep going,
And that I’ll be just fine. Vitamins? Medicines?
Nah, you don’t really need them.
Rest? What for? Your not REALLY that sick, are you?
Oh come on! Why do you have to let
A little virus bring you down like that?
Just ignore it, and it will go away!

Oh yeah.

They say, that to look at God, is life. And in my case,
I think the literal interpretation would fit.
Cause to keep my eyes on my husband,
And submit to my husband IN EVERYTHING,
Instead of checking in with my God FIRST,
Would mean death for me, in more ways than one….
*

TO BE CONTINUED…

*

Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as it is fit in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and be not bitter against them.

And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; Knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ.

(Colossians Chapter 3, verses 18-19, 23-24, KJV)

* * * *