Our fragile dreams

LAKE CITY, COLORADO – God is showing me something on this journey. In my dreams and in my idle thoughts He is pulling back the curtain on something and showing me new dreams; things that aren’t…but could be.

But these dreams lack shape and form right now. It’s like Paul wrote in his letter to the Corinthians about looking through a glass dimly. These new things are like the dreams you are so certain of but in the first few moments of waking you can sense the dreams disappearing like smoke.

And after only a few moments…they are gone.

These dreams of mine are wonderful and scary and almost too good to imagine. And so I’m not telling anyone. Yet.

Imagine building a fire the old fashioned way. No lighter fluid and no matches. All you’ve got is a flint, some dry grass and your own skill and patience. You desperately need this fire for warmth and for cooking. The pressure is on to build your fire before the cold and darkness close in.

You strike the flint and get a spark but you’re not close enough to the dry grass so nothing happens. You lose the moment. You try again. And again. You reorganize and gather yourself for another try. You realize you’ve been holding your breath. You settle in for another attempt.

Fire is powerful and capable of so much. But starting out it’s delicate and fragile and must be created with care.

You strike the flint again and the conditions are right; the spark catches the dry grass and begins to glow. But it’s not fire yet. Not even close. Just a fragile glow. If you blow too much or too hard it will go out. If you move or try to add more wood you’ll smother it.

Now you gently and carefully blow. You shield the glow with one hand and fan with the other. You’re on all fours. Every fiber of your being is focused on coaxing fire out of that fragile ember.

Gradually the glow becomes a small flame and is now strong enough to blow on a bit harder and add a few sticks to the dry grass. Your carefully set your batch of dry grass on the ground. It’s finally strong enough to burn on its own. Now it’s a useful and valuable flame.

But it didn’t start out that way.

Sometime visions and dreams are like that. God shows you things–things that aren’t but could be. But you don’t dare talk about them. You don’t share them. They are way too fragile for that. These dreams can only be whispered quietly in the dark. They are not ready for the light of day. To say too much would smother them and put them out. They would disappear like smoke.

So you shield those precious dreams; those ideas and visions. You gently and patiently blow on them. You dream more dreams. You journal. You think. You pray. You will them to life over time. You don’t force them. You allow them to grow and become a full blown fire in their own time.

Of course my confidence isn’t always what it should be. I’m hesitant and superstitious. I imagine if I spoke these dreams out it would make them real. And that would open them up for criticism and possibly derision. People, even people I love and respect would shoot holes in the dreams. They’d ask questions I couldn’t answer. They’d kick dirt on the small fragile embers; articulating all the reasons why this dream will never happen.

The dragon (called Resistance) comes and tells me why this thing won’t work and why I should forget doing the unique thing. ‘Be normal’ it tells me. ‘Give up thinking you’re special and unique. Give up the silly notion of doing something different. Fit in. Allow the dreams to die. Take the blue pill. You don’t deserve the dream. Accept what is. Ignore what could be.’

But no.

This is too special to ignore. These dreams have touched me deeply and will not go away. They are too right to be wrong. I hear His voice. I feel His presence.

So I’ll stay on all fours and continue to gently blow the embers to life.