Early, one morning about six months ago, my dreams came in several stages or developments. In the first segment, i am wearing field gear and am on a train. The train is on a large track, almost like it were a model railroad. Going too fast around a final curve before a station, the last car, which is an open gondola car with two people in it, nearly tips over forward. The two people are not injured but we are all concerned about the incident. The train’s operator and seemingly our leader is not bothered at all.
Next, I am getting my remaining gear and going through the train. Another person is with me. It is apparent we are getting ready to leave. There are two boxes I’m picking up. These boxes are similar to other boxes in another dream from the previous night.
I don’t know if it is me in this next segment or not, but the two people who were in the gondola that nearly overturned are captive in the desert. They are able to subdue their captures, and destroy their bodies with acid and the remains soak into the sand. They flee by day, though hide when satellites are overhead. They come to a village and hide there gathering stuff to equip a vehicle.
From there, the two set out by vehicle to the coast where they trade the vehicle for a boat. They outfit the boat and sail away.
There is something about the two boxes. There is something about the way I wrapped my rifle’s sling around my left forearm. I recall doing this sort of carry once before. Only once before. And I remember once, long ago, wanting a box to collect up my various remnants, left overs, of a life I’d been living.
I’m reminded of another dream some time ago. In it I approached a river I would need to cross to continue following the path on which I walked. As I was trying to figure out how to keep my backpack from getting wet, a woman came to me. She explained how to wrap my pack in plastic and said it would keep it dry.
This morning very early I dreamed that I was in a house that seemed to spring leaks all over. Water dripped from the ceiling, from pipes overhead, from the windows. Water was drenching boxes that were open. And the contents were being ruined.
It seems to me that in these dreams there are two different ways of looking at things that I have. First there are things that we use, daily, for which we must care. These are cooking utensils, bedding, and tools that we use in our trade. They are also gifts that we carry to give to people we meet along the way. The backpack I carried, that I was shown how to care for in order to cross the river, and the gear that I was collecting, and the boxes that would protect it, fall into this type of treasure.
These are treasures, however, in which we must not trust. For as the Lord spoke through Jeremiah (49:4):
Why do you boast of your valleys,
O faithless daughter,
who trusted in her treasures, saying,
Who will come against me.
The other treasures, like the ones in the dream that are getting ruined in the water leaking from seemingly everywhere in the house, are not ones kept and maintained for everyday use. These are the treasure in which I’ve put too much trust.
Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.—Matthew 6:19
There are things that the L-rd teaches me through dreams. There is the overview of the dream itself, and there is the various pieces of which the dreams are made. Sometimes it takes several different dreams with the same overall viewpoint to make sense. And then there’s the individual pieces, like the pieces of a giant puzzle, fitting together later on, when other pieces are put together.
My mother often said, “The L-rd works in mysterious ways.” May He work constantly in your lives, to bring you into His Peace and into the pure fellowship of His other children.
Jonah’s Song 