The Ties With God

They come in the night, as though someone who hates you has a voodoo doll and they're sticking pins in its head sending bad thoughts into your mind mind. Half-conscious dreams that may be literally true or some exaggerated distortion of what actually happened force you to toss and turn throughout the night. Dreams sometimes are like science fiction with you in the staring role and you wake up with a jolt wondering where that came from. And sometimes they are so sensual and real you can feel and taste them. Night before last in Seattle, I had strange dreams. It was the night before travel so I was restless, ready to go and get there. It'd been a long day and Sarah and I had to get up at 5:30 to make our flight. So when my dead friend Joe Bridges came to see me in a dream, I was unprepared for the visit. Joe had been a homeless alcoholic who overcame those things to help us build Union Mission. He wanted me to take a ride with him on his motorcycle. This was the Joe before he lost his leg in an accident, a time when he was at his best in life. We rode until we came to another long dead friend Chester Fawbush. Chester was the first homeless person I ever became friends with in Louisville Kentucky when I was in Seminary. He was long dead before I ever met Joe but they got along fine in my dream. They were wanting to talk to me about something but I can't recall it was. But they were as real and alive as if they were sitting across from me right now. Yesterday we literally flew all day, finally arriving in Savannah around 7:30. An hour later we were home on Tybee and took Goddess and Winston, the little gay dog, on an evening walk. Collapsing we were happy to be back in our own bed. There's nothing better than your own bed. We were exhausted and making the adjustment from West Coast time back to East Coast time. So when the Board Chair who chooses to remain anonymous ... Jerry Rainey ... showed up in a dream, he was definitely unwelcome. Being the little Dictator that he is, he showed up anyway. Smiling evilly, he told me he'd won. I flipped him the finger. Then we both realized at the same time that we were surrounded by a crowd of homeless people watching us. I knew most of them. Joe and Chester were there. Jerry seemed confused. Waking up, I tossed in a fidgeting way. Sarah said, "It's hot isn't it?" She was half asleep and had kicked all of the covers off. Wrapping myself around her, I fell back asleep. I've never been one to dream while I slept (which is different from dreaming while I'm awake ... which I do a lot). If I did dream while I slept, I never remembered them ... until now. The Bible makes it pretty clear that God sometimes speaks through dreams. Beginning with Jacob in the Old Testament through Joseph in the New Testament, God gave instructions. Jacob, sees a bunch of angels coming and going making promises. After the Three Wise Men visited the baby Jesus, God told Joseph in a dream to get the hell out of there. There are other examples, Moses and Daniel. So it makes me wonder. Why am I suddenly remembering my dreams? It is a rainy morning on Tybee Island, a perfect ambiance for contemplating such things. Sarah is back in bed, the trees drip in wetness, the birds dart searching for places to perch and I sit under the umbrella on the Beloved Back Deck wondering if God's trying to tell me something. Why does God want to be subtle? It's God, for God's sake! Send lightening bolts or angels or a burning bush (but please don't burn one of mine, but my neighbor's bushes are fine)! What is She trying to tell me? Is there something else I should be doing? Some other place to go? Some other truth to know? I happen to be re-reading Graham Greene's wonderful The Heart of the Matter while I think these things. There is a line in it that touches me ... "The truth, he thought, has never been of any real value to any human being --- it is a symbol for mathematicians and philosophers to pursue. In human relations kindness and ties are worth a thousand truths." A common theme in my dreams have been the ties. Joe, Chester, and even the Board Chair who chooses to remain anonymous remain with me. We're surrounded by those who we've been kind to or have been kind to us ... or those we didn't really give a shit about. On a rainy Tybee morning, it is not the truth so much that I am seeking, but the ties with God. I suppose Joe and Chester are now angels delivering messages. The Little Dictator is still alive and I think he's a symbol of truth ... which I'm not particularly interested in. The ties with God however are far more intriguing. I'm going to spend my day pursuing those.