Life in Snapshots
My Friend, the Architect (Part Three of A Conversation)

Dreams

DreamI have never attached much importance to dreams.  Some are inane; some fantastical; some downright boring, to the extent I remember them at all.  A few are disturbing.

And some are so real, so vivid, that they are difficult to shake once you awake from them.  The voices you heard in them seem almost audible, and they haunt your waking hours.

Last night I dreamed that a girl I knew 30 years ago in college was weeping, telling me her husband had left her.  I told her, "Janet, God will husband you now," words that seemed to ring in my ears.  I woke up praying for her, or maybe I began praying for her when I awoke.

Just providentially, I am having lunch tomorrow with another college friend who has kept up with Janet all these years.  I'm going to ask him to consider calling her to see how she is.  I haven't done that kind of thing often.  In fact, I feel silly doing it at all.  Surely the dream was a figment of my imagination, related to the too late dinner I had the previous evening.

But then I consider the dreams of the Scripture -- Jacob's dream of angels descending and ascending a ladder to heaven; Joseph's dream of his brothers' sheaves of grain bowing down to his sheaf of grain; or even Pharaoh's dreams of the fat cows and gaunt cows, the scorched grain and healthy grain -- God speaking in dreams.

So, I don't know what to make of that dream.  But, if nothing else, it's a prompt to pray for an old friend, and that's a good thing.

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