Sheep: The Dream

(Written on Friday, September 18, 2009. It is a retelling of the dream I had the night before, which began with a Tim Burton-type, dark and distorted, eeriness then...well, I'll let you read for yourself.)
 
I had a dream last night.

  Whether I lived next to the farm house or not, I can’t tell you, but as my dream opened, I approached it's front yard down a gentle, grassy, overgrown slope and through a misty haze. There were sheep in the yard; beautiful, white, playful, young lambs. They were not in the safety of a pen as they should have been, but were playfully hopping about the yard, some wandering aimlessly into the narrow country road.

  Worried for their safety and desiring to guide them to the sheepfold, I tried to get their attention. I called. I waved. I got the attention of one adorable little lamb with large eyes. She walked cautiously toward me. I called gently, but in earnest. Just before reaching me, she turned and sprang away into the road.

  As I made my way quickly through the chilly fog to warn the farmer in his house, I found myself dodging discarded tools and broken farm implements left in the machinery graveyard that was the lawn--the rusting remnants of a brighter past.

  The house itself stood high and narrow, enormous in its leanness. Dark paint peeled from shutters which hung in disrepair. Whether the darkness within was real or an illusion created by the filth which covered the windows, I could not yet tell.

  Entering, I found a very young man, a teenager I think, sitting silent and alone in a parlor. I think he was holding a book. The wallpaper, his shirt and the upholstered chair he sat in were all of a dirty yellow that was somehow both dark and pale. I told him the sheep were out of their pen and wandering into the road. He replied sluggishly that he supposed he should let "them" know.

  I followed curiously as he made his way into the next room. In the deep darkness, I could just make out that, like the room next to it, this was all one dirty color. This time, though, the color was a suffocating, dark and fluid blue. The color seemed to move like water promising to drown me. I wasn't afraid, and I think the blue knew. It was a bedroom, and on the bed was a fat, greasy woman sleeping under an ocean of blue bedding. She moved in her sleep as if she were drifting in a pool. I understood her to always be just as I was seeing her—wallowing in a darkness which swallowed. I knew she had authority over the boy, but her obvious uselessness made me wonder how that could be. Upon waking to my companion's news, she rolled like a whale, looked at me with eyes equally as large as her disdain at being bothered, and told the boy to tell "him."

  We found the farmer at last in a narrow, dirty passageway. He was not old, but lean, wrinkled, leathered and hard. His one upper tooth hung diagonally from behind his lips which I thought unable to smile. His eyes were a beautiful, pale blue, but glassy, as if real observation was not possible. He cursed the sheep and said, "If they die, they die," and went on his way.

  Alone again on the front lawn, I became aware that the fog, while still there, was lifting slowly, and there were small patches of sunny, bright sky taking over. The chill I had felt moving across the long, damp grass just a short time before, was leaving too, as a gentle, warm breeze blew it away. The most amazing change was in the sheep themselves. They were suddenly grown into large, robust, mature adults. No more youthful and aimless, they walked calmly, but with purpose across the road, down a slope and onto a straight, narrow path I had not noticed before, although I had looked at the very spot. The most inexplicable change of all? The sheep were black.

  I stood watching as the sheep left for better pastures they could not yet see, away from the lethargy and darkness of the towering home which contained only shadows of life. My chest filled with admiration for their quiet strength and purpose. As I stood amazed, I wondered why they were now black. Weren't black sheep bad? "No," came the revelation, "but the inhabitants of the farmhouse will never understand."

On Acts Chapter 2 and Daydreams

Imagine the center aisle of your church. Now imagine the center aisle of your church long and filled with runners. Just in front of the platform is a huge banner that reads Finish Line hanging between two brightly-colored poles. Under the banner is a crowd of people waiting, reaching for you, cheering you forward, clapping you on the back and hugging you when you arrive. Picture their faces. You know who they are. Your Sunday school teacher and small group leaders are there, ready to hang medals around your neck. Your pastor. The senior saint who gives you a hug each week. All cheering and celebrating with you. Balloons and confetti join the laughter and applause.

Slowly, things wind down. The cheering turns to happy conversation as the last pieces of confetti flutter to the carpet. The smiling crowd makes its way to the back of the sanctuary and into the foyer. The last person to leave reaches an arm back through the doorway and snaps off the lights as the banner, too, falls gently to the floor. The sanctuary is dark and still.

But you keep watching the platform.

Imagine now the faintest light begins to glow from the back edge of the platform, from behind the place where the banner had hung. As the light grows slowly and steadily brighter, you recognize the form of a man sitting in a chair. He looks like a man, but you realize He is so much more. This is merely a man like Aslan is merely a lion.

"Why didn't they come? I was right here. Waiting. Arms outstretched. But no one came. Why did they stop just short of where I was waiting?"

The wretched thought hits your forehead and stomach all at once. No one finished the race.

The colors, once festive, are garish and gaudy. The memory of medals--dime-store trinkets--sickens and embarrasses you. The path had been disguised, a false goal set up, and no one knew. Not even the ones in charge.

You stand, weak-kneed and heart-sick, and make your way slowly up the few stairs and across the platform. As you approach, you look deeply into the eyes of the Man and know that He can look deeply into you. You sink, curling your feet under you and sit at the feet of the Man. Ready to learn.

Ready to finish the race.

A Lesson on Encouragement from Mary

Luke 1:46-55 "The Magnificat"

And Mary said, "My soul exalts the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Saviorl For He has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave; for behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed. For the Mighty One has done great things for me; and holy is His name; And His mercy is upon generation after generation toward those who fear Him. He has done mighty deeds with His arm; He has scattered [those who were] proud in the thoughts of their heart. He has brought down rulers from [their] thrones, and has exalted those who were humble. He has filled the hungry with good things; and sent away the rich empty-handed. He has given help to Israel His servant, in remembrance of His mercy, as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and his descendants forever."

To be unmarried and pregnant could have meant death for Mary and certainly meant the disdain of her neighbors. We can't prove from scripture that she wasn't afraid or incredibly lonely, but in this passage, we see her doing a couple of things that keep her from drowning emotionally in the negative aspects of her situation.

1. She immediately surrounded herself with people who believed that God's word was true just as it was given.

Luke 1:38-45
And Mary said [to Gabriel], "Behold, the bondslave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word." And the angel departed from her. Now at this time Mary arose and went in a hurry to the hill country, to a city of Judah, and entered the house of Zacharias and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. And she cried out with a loud voice and said, "Blessed [are] you among women, and blessed [is] the fruit of our womb! And how has it [happened] to me, that the mother of my Lord would come to me? For behold, when the sound of our greeting reached my ears, the baby leaped in my womb for joy. And blessed [is] she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what had been spoken to her by the Lord."

Luke 1:56

And Mary stayed with her [Elizabeth] about three months, and [then] returned home.

2. She focused on the immediate positives as they related to her personally.

Luke 1:46-48a (Part b is coming in a minute.)

And Mary said: "My soul exalts the Lord, And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior, for He has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave…"

3. She focused on the long-term positives as they related to her personally.

Luke 1:48b (there it is)-49

For behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed. For the Mighty One has done great things for me; and holy is His name."

4. She focused on the big picture--God's justice and plan for the redemption of Israel.

Luke 1:50-55

"And His mercy is upon generation after generation toward those who fear Him. He has done mighty deeds with His arm; He has scattered [those who were] proud in the thoughts of their heart. He has brought down rulers from [their] thrones, and has exalted those who were humble. He has filled the hungry with good things; and sent away the rich empty-handed. He has given help to Israel His servant, in remembrance of His mercy, as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and his descendants forever."

When I'm going through a tough time, I need to remember this lesson from Mary. I need to surround myself with people who believe and depend on the inerrancy of God's written word and that it means just what it says. I need to remember that God has good things in store for me personally when I yield myself up to be His servant. And I need to be humbled and honored that God has chosen to write me into His story.