The Dream
On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you!" After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.
- John 20: 19-20
The fluorescent light glared harshly from the ceiling, creating harsh shadows across the table. Carol sat quietly across from me, her elbows resting on the Formica top. The stainless steel trim reflected the light into her eyes, causing her to squint as she looked at me.
The steady drip of the water in the sink punctuated the silence as we sat looking at each other. We were suspended in time. The talk had lasted for hours; we were exhausted, yet happy. We gazed into each other’s eyes and felt joy sweeping into every pore of our body. We basked in the harsh glow of the light, basked in the soft light of love, reflected on that which was said.
We jumped as the rapping on the kitchen door shook the room, echoing long after the action stopped. Again the urgent rapping demanded our attention – the glass window shook in the frame – adding its noise to the urgency of the knocking.
As we stood and turned to face the door, two faces suddenly appeared in the window – smiling, laughing – anxiously tapping for us to come – open the door – invite us in.
And so we did. Mom and Dad ran into the room – hugs and kisses abounded. Dad broke his embrace from Carol – held her at arm’s length and inspected her.
“Yes, yes. She is fantastic!”
Mom came and embraced her, brushing her cheek with her lips in a kiss of greeting, “Oh my, you are very special.”
I felt pride grow in my heart as my parents approved of my wife. This first meeting was so unexpected, yet so joyous. We talked, we laughed, we hugged, we laughed some more. Sitting around the kitchen table our foursome covered many subjects. Ah, but there was a darkness around my heart There was an undefined anxiety creeping into my thoughts. Something was wrong – something not right.
Dad started bragging about his garden. I remembered his garden, filled with fragrances of colorful flowers, offering a haven to birds, squirrels and the occasional rabbit. He stood, Mom stood. Carol stood. I sat and watched as Dad put his arm around Carol and walked her to the door. Soon the three headed out the door to see his garden, their smiling faces showing the joy in their hearts. I watched, sitting, unable to move. They were gone.
An incredible sadness filled my soul. I missed them. They had been here just a second ago, laughing, smiling, talking – now they were gone. I missed them. I wanted to be with them. I sat – unable to leave my chair. I struggled to call, to have them stop, to turn, to wait for me – no words came. I sat – soundless as they disappeared.
The drip of the kitchen sink changed – grew louder – harsher – longer. Soon it was an alarm. No, that was my alarm clock. I opened my eyes – looking for the window. The sunshine betrayed the truth. It was a dream.
I sank back into the blankets, letting the warmth cover me, surround me as my thoughts calmed, my heart calmed, my head cleared. I sat, remembering Carol. Where was she? I reached out, arms flaying in every direction. Soon I grazed her sleeping form. It was a dream. She was here.
Why, dear reader, do you wonder why the dream of a happy meeting between my wife and my parents would cause my pulse to race, my forehead to sweat and my heart to stop? My parents have been home in heaven for over three years.
I could see them. I could hear them. I could smell Dad’s cologne, Mom’s perfume. Yet, they were not there.
Dreams are powerful. We often identify the happenings in dreams with prophesies, portends of future events. I read into my dream that I dearly love Carol and I want to introduce her to the parents whom I loved so very much. Mom and Dad would love her.
My dreams are imaginations of my mind, fictitious. Perhaps my mind wanted to once again see Mom and Dad – to have them raise from the dead.
The disciples loved Jesus very much. They had walked with Him for three years. They had listened intently as He taught. They witnessed His miracles of healing. They could testify to Him and His power.
The time came for Him to fulfill the prophesies – to pay the debt of sin. Those who loved Him, walked with Him, chosen by Him – abandoned Him. They ran. Peter followed only to deny and leave.
The disciples huddled together in a locked room. They were afraid. Afraid that what happened to Jesus would happen to them. All but one had fled – only one stood and watched as the blood flowed from His side. Only John stood and heard His words, “It is finished.” The body was placed in the tomb, the tomb sealed. He was walking with His Father.
The disciples saw Him. He appeared to them, talked to them, they touched Him. He was real. He whom they loved was alive – risen from the dead. The tomb held Him no more. This was no dream. He was there, with them in the flesh. This was not the product of a worried mind, undigested food, or wishful thinking – this was real.
Soon He would depart to be with His Father. He promised, “I am with you always.”
What comfort His resurrection brings. I know that He is with me. I know that He has broken the bonds of sin, death and Satan. I know that I will be reunited with Mom and Dad. That will be no dream – no sitting at the kitchen table. Dad’s garden will be Heaven. Carol and I will walk with Mon and Dad, with all those faithful who have fallen asleep in Jesus.
I am excited – I am grateful – I want the halls of heaven to be filled with the family of God. So I need to get up off the chair. I need to walk out the door and I need to make introductions. I need to introduce all I see - not to Mom and Dad – but to Jesus, my Lord – Jesus, my Savior – Jesus, the Risen Son of God.
I pray for strength for the day.
On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you!" After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.
- John 20: 19-20
The fluorescent light glared harshly from the ceiling, creating harsh shadows across the table. Carol sat quietly across from me, her elbows resting on the Formica top. The stainless steel trim reflected the light into her eyes, causing her to squint as she looked at me.
The steady drip of the water in the sink punctuated the silence as we sat looking at each other. We were suspended in time. The talk had lasted for hours; we were exhausted, yet happy. We gazed into each other’s eyes and felt joy sweeping into every pore of our body. We basked in the harsh glow of the light, basked in the soft light of love, reflected on that which was said.
We jumped as the rapping on the kitchen door shook the room, echoing long after the action stopped. Again the urgent rapping demanded our attention – the glass window shook in the frame – adding its noise to the urgency of the knocking.
As we stood and turned to face the door, two faces suddenly appeared in the window – smiling, laughing – anxiously tapping for us to come – open the door – invite us in.
And so we did. Mom and Dad ran into the room – hugs and kisses abounded. Dad broke his embrace from Carol – held her at arm’s length and inspected her.
“Yes, yes. She is fantastic!”
Mom came and embraced her, brushing her cheek with her lips in a kiss of greeting, “Oh my, you are very special.”
I felt pride grow in my heart as my parents approved of my wife. This first meeting was so unexpected, yet so joyous. We talked, we laughed, we hugged, we laughed some more. Sitting around the kitchen table our foursome covered many subjects. Ah, but there was a darkness around my heart There was an undefined anxiety creeping into my thoughts. Something was wrong – something not right.
Dad started bragging about his garden. I remembered his garden, filled with fragrances of colorful flowers, offering a haven to birds, squirrels and the occasional rabbit. He stood, Mom stood. Carol stood. I sat and watched as Dad put his arm around Carol and walked her to the door. Soon the three headed out the door to see his garden, their smiling faces showing the joy in their hearts. I watched, sitting, unable to move. They were gone.
An incredible sadness filled my soul. I missed them. They had been here just a second ago, laughing, smiling, talking – now they were gone. I missed them. I wanted to be with them. I sat – unable to leave my chair. I struggled to call, to have them stop, to turn, to wait for me – no words came. I sat – soundless as they disappeared.
The drip of the kitchen sink changed – grew louder – harsher – longer. Soon it was an alarm. No, that was my alarm clock. I opened my eyes – looking for the window. The sunshine betrayed the truth. It was a dream.
I sank back into the blankets, letting the warmth cover me, surround me as my thoughts calmed, my heart calmed, my head cleared. I sat, remembering Carol. Where was she? I reached out, arms flaying in every direction. Soon I grazed her sleeping form. It was a dream. She was here.
Why, dear reader, do you wonder why the dream of a happy meeting between my wife and my parents would cause my pulse to race, my forehead to sweat and my heart to stop? My parents have been home in heaven for over three years.
I could see them. I could hear them. I could smell Dad’s cologne, Mom’s perfume. Yet, they were not there.
Dreams are powerful. We often identify the happenings in dreams with prophesies, portends of future events. I read into my dream that I dearly love Carol and I want to introduce her to the parents whom I loved so very much. Mom and Dad would love her.
My dreams are imaginations of my mind, fictitious. Perhaps my mind wanted to once again see Mom and Dad – to have them raise from the dead.
The disciples loved Jesus very much. They had walked with Him for three years. They had listened intently as He taught. They witnessed His miracles of healing. They could testify to Him and His power.
The time came for Him to fulfill the prophesies – to pay the debt of sin. Those who loved Him, walked with Him, chosen by Him – abandoned Him. They ran. Peter followed only to deny and leave.
The disciples huddled together in a locked room. They were afraid. Afraid that what happened to Jesus would happen to them. All but one had fled – only one stood and watched as the blood flowed from His side. Only John stood and heard His words, “It is finished.” The body was placed in the tomb, the tomb sealed. He was walking with His Father.
The disciples saw Him. He appeared to them, talked to them, they touched Him. He was real. He whom they loved was alive – risen from the dead. The tomb held Him no more. This was no dream. He was there, with them in the flesh. This was not the product of a worried mind, undigested food, or wishful thinking – this was real.
Soon He would depart to be with His Father. He promised, “I am with you always.”
What comfort His resurrection brings. I know that He is with me. I know that He has broken the bonds of sin, death and Satan. I know that I will be reunited with Mom and Dad. That will be no dream – no sitting at the kitchen table. Dad’s garden will be Heaven. Carol and I will walk with Mon and Dad, with all those faithful who have fallen asleep in Jesus.
I am excited – I am grateful – I want the halls of heaven to be filled with the family of God. So I need to get up off the chair. I need to walk out the door and I need to make introductions. I need to introduce all I see - not to Mom and Dad – but to Jesus, my Lord – Jesus, my Savior – Jesus, the Risen Son of God.
I pray for strength for the day.