Woodland West Church of Christ

As a preacher I have several recurring dreams/nightmares. One of them involves me frantically searching for my Bible and sermon notes as it is time for me to ascend to the stage to stand before the church and to declare a message from the Lord. What did I do all last week? Why am I not ready? Where on earth is my Bible? Strangely enough, these visions of consternation tend to come upon my mind on Saturday nights. (Purely coincidental, I assure you.)

Well, I had another weird and strange dream last night. I actually had several. But the one I can still remember was even more weird than usual. I was in a dream that bordered on watching an episode of a whodunit television movie. I was in attendance at a wedding where a major sting operation was taking place. I was, of course, part of the sting. I was covert, undercover, incognito, packing heat, and the only ones who knew this were my trusted cohorts.

The corsages were, to say the least, interesting comic relief to an otherwise tense setting. Everyone’s corsage was too big. Mine bordered on wearing a potted plant fastened to my lapel. The flowers came up to my nose and completely covered the lower part of my face. Several of the young ladies in the wedding party volunteered to fix it, but only made it worse and essentially ruined any hope for the corsage to be usable. Tears and embarrassment ensued as the lead person in this corsage rescue operation stormed out of the room.

Meanwhile, the bride was inexplicably delayed. I had time to kill — no pun intended — so I began to sample the hors d'oeuvres and desserts for the wedding dinner. I have a particular fondness and weakness for cheesecake — you know, the good stuff from New York — and fortunately for me it was readily available in the next room.

Then all of a sudden, the bride arrived. It was time to begin the wedding ceremony. And get this, as I was licking my fingers and smacking my lips of the remains of the cheesecake I had just devoured, it suddenly occurred to me that everyone is looking at me with a sense of anxiousness and expectation. That’s when it dawned on me that I am the officiating minister for this little family gathering!

So get this: It's my own dream, I'm in this major sting operation, surrounded by criminals, working to land a big time arrest, and I'm the preacher! Are you kidding me?! And you may have guessed it. At this point there is a significant shift in the storyline. Forget about my piece; Where is my Bible?! Where is my notebook with the wedding ceremony?! I had no idea. I experienced a major adrenaline rush. Heartbeat escalated. Blood pressure elevated. And I was awake!

Disappointing. Clever, compelling and intriguing new beginning… same old ending. And this was Tuesday night! What diabolical and dastardly dream lurks ahead waiting for me on Saturday?!

Dreams! There ought to be a law…

Yet I wonder… If God ever slept, if God were to dream, might his dreams be a lot like mine? No matter how they begin, they will always end the same. It turns out that even in his dreams, this Dreamer is always the God who alone is holy, holy, holy. And after whatever entertaining bit of drama there might be in his dreams, the Dreamer's Son eventually returns in glory with the angels of heaven. Every knee bows and every tongue confesses that Jesus is Lord. The old is gone; the new has come. Pain, death, mourning and crying are no more. God wipes away every tear from the eyes of his children.

This is quite a dream; and our hope in Christ is that one day we will live the dream life of God.

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