I guess I'm on a Jars of Clay song blog entry title kick tonight, eh? You know how you hear people talk about dreams (the kind when you are actually asleep, not like the kind when you wonder what you're gonna do with your life) and the 'oh, what could it mean/what do you think it means?' type things? You know how some people obsess about what their dreams might mean, etc, in other words? I don't do that, never really have. But I had a dream the other night that I keep thinking about, keep coming back to, etc, and sort of see as a symbolic story on some levels. Bear with me, it's brutal.
In the dream, we (Tracy and I, and some other friends, who I think I remember, but not sure honestly) were standing outside of a football stadium (maybe U of Arkansas, maybe ASU, in dreams you never know and they usually wind up a hodge-podge of several), getting our tickets, and then going on into the stadium. As we were literally walking through the gate, a little ways down from where we were standing someone had been goofing off, horsing around...I THINK it was on like a carnival ride, like a Ferris wheel or something like that, and they fell from the top of it, to the ground. I remember, in the dream, turning around as I heard the scream, knowing there was nothing I could really do, seeing the person falling, and quickly turning back to the people I was with in line, and herding them on into the stadium. I think it was well-intentioned, in that I really did not want them to see the horrific scene. But I also remember thinking about how guilty I felt to just go on into the stadium like nothing had happened.
Here's the deal...as I woke up later, several thoughts about this dream came to my mind. I don't want it to sound trite or like some cheesy or goofy analogy, but I saw several aspects of this dream as indicative of and symbolic of how so many people go through life. First, the guy up on the Ferris wheel was a picture of, sadly, how many people in the world are. They are enjoying life, the whole 'eat, drink and be merry' crowd, but they are playing with danger, and ultimately are spiraling out of control and in danger of a great fall, a hard crash, the extent of which could be devastating and then some. Second, me and my friends are, sadly, symbolic of how too many of us "Christians" treat the world around us. Much like the priest and Levite in the story of the Good Samaritan, we are too busy, or too consumed with the things we enjoy, or too scared to get messy, to help someone in need. We would rather turn a blind eye and a deaf ear and pretend nothing happened at all. If we are honest, we'd rather ignore the problems and issues and sins exist. We'd rather go on with life as we know it and not be bothered...and that's a shame, isn't it, if we think about it...
By the way, the guy survived the fall, in the dream. He was in pretty bad shape, but he didn't die, amazingly. He was, in a sense, given a second chance at life. Isn't that, too, symbolic of life and God? We are, until the moment we literally die, given a second chance, a new leash on life, a predetermined by God amount of time to stake our claim with Him and make our mark for Him. What we do with that chance is mostly up to us. I'd like to believe the guy in my dream would make a full recovery, although he'd have scars and memories and bumps and bruises...and that those scars and marks would serve as a reminder and a push and a motivational tool to help him live like he was dying, because he had seen what that literally was like and had been so changed by it and so blown away by the second chance that he couldn't help but make the most out of it, beaten and broken though he was. Isn't that how God works?
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