I had just put in my earplugs that my brother-in-law Bernie had given me. We were on a short term mission trip to upstate New York. We had grown tired of sweltering in one room with about 50 adolescent boys in mid July. We had snuck outside to get away from everyone, to sleep in the soccer field under the stars with one of the guys from our group. We had no idea that the railroad tracks were just behind the field, and every 20 minutes another train would go by on its way to or from Erie, PA. We had a great discussion as we watched for shooting stars, and had been a perfect night.
We finally were exhausted and struggled to sleep with the noise of the trains, but somehow this noise made me bolt up wide awake. I wasn’t sure what the noise was, but my blood had run cold. I thought maybe Bernie had let out a loud snore, but when I turned he and the other guys were already scrambling to their feet. I am not sure what made the noise, but there were two of them, and my only thought was to bluff them. I figured if we ran, we were dead. I am still certain it was a mother mountain lion with her half grown cub, but we heard all different explanations for what it was (coyotes, coy-dogs?). The noise was definitely a snarl, not a growl or bark. So raising my hands above my head I moved quickly toward them, expecting them to run away quickly. They held their ground and I let my fiercest snarl back at them. “SQUEAK!” If animals could really smell fear, I must have smelled like a whole bottle of it. My snarl was stuck in my throat and I don’t know how to describe the sound. Ned Flanders could have done better. Finally, with my heart about to explode, and the taste of pennies in my mouth, they jumped back into the woods, and stared at me. I slowly backed up to my sleeping bag to collect my stuff, while the other two had already headed the other direction with their stuff. We decided to call it a night and went back to the protection of the group of guys.
I am sure we all know the feeling of waking up afraid. That fear was incredible. I often have had dreams that wake me up feeling afraid, and then pray out loud to Jesus and fall back to sleep. Neil Anderson in his book “The Bondage Breaker” describes some of these dreams as actual demonic attacks. I am not sure how all that works, but I believe him. When he describes these dreams, they are just like my experience. Waking up feeling afraid and unable to use my voice. Waking up sweaty and feeling like something is choking me. Or just waking up and feeling fear. These awful dreams would happen about once a month, with other perverted or evil feeling dreams occurring pretty regularly. It was rare for me to have a dream that left me feeling good when I woke up.
Since training camp with AIM, I have had a couple scary dreams, but all of a sudden I was having good dreams. Dreams that made sense, dreams I wanted to dwell on. Dreams I wanted to understand. Dreams where I know God is talking to me. How else can I describe that? I fall asleep now, looking forward to what dreams may come. I realize now the expression, ‘sweet dreams’. My dreams have almost always been some type of painful experience, and now they are so peaceful and joyful.
I had a dream the other night. I was sitting at a table that was filled with food. The food on the table looked like old paintings of medieval feasts. The table had fruits and desserts, a roast pig with the apple in its mouth. I was eating. Every bite tasted so good. Every bite was so satisfying. It went deep and satisfied my soul. I ate and ate, I couldn’t get full and the food just kept appearing. The more I ate, the better I felt. The more I ate, the better the food tasted. It felt like the food had happiness in it. I could sense that the only limit on what I ate was how long I would sit and eat. There was no bloating, or fear of a hangover or stomach issues.
I felt that the person who was providing the food was happy. The good food was not set out as torture to me. This food was not set out by someone who was counting the cost of every bite I took. This was not set out by someone expecting me to return the favor. It wasn’t even set out by someone expecting me to agree with his own warped opinions. The food was set out by someone who truly loves me. Someone who was genuinely happy that I was happy. Someone who found real pleasure in the pleasure of those seated at the table. Someone who had plenty more to offer. I felt that the person who provided the food was saying “Eat! Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare! Give ear and come to me; hear me that your soul may live.” I woke up in our tent, still feeling full of joy.
I am sure that meditating on the wedding feast of the lamb might have had something to do with this dream. Dwelling on Isaiah 55 also. To me this dream represents where I am in life right now. I feel that I am living in freedom. I am not handcuffed by the religious or righteous, being made to feel guilty for the smile on my face. Every day is a feast on what God has for us. Good things. The bible is so alive, reading and loving God’s word. Each tasty morsel pleasing to my whole body, deep into the soul. Walking in who God has made me to be. Reading the bible always brought on feelings of guilt- that I would realize how far from Jesus I was, and I wasn’t growing noticeably closer. Not reading the bible made me feel guilty- my whole life I have been taught that “this book would keep me from sin, or sin would keep me from the book.”
The great accuser (Satan) was pounding me until I was on the ground begging for mercy, but no one would stop the fight. No one to throw in the towel for me. People just telling me that I was taking a beating. Duh, all of us on the ground know we are getting beat, but there are so many with no one in their corner. So many of us believing Satan’s lies that we don’t need a coach. So many people have never been taught how to fight this spiritual battle. Christians naked, no armor on, no one to help them, no one teaching us how to live a victorious life. Now I have begun to fight back, it has been a little over six months that my eyes have been opened to so much. Every day is a feast at the table, as we the bride prepare our wedding dress of good works to present to our husband Jesus when we are called to be with him. To already be feasting is such a blessing, with all eternity to continue, it DOES just get better from here.
Sweet dreams are just the beginning! How awesome is that?
