Reader, be warned, these are the kind of dreams that clear
the way for uncharted territory. They get down into the parts of you that you
didn’t know were there. These are the kind of dreams that require
surrender and submission to refinement. They mean emotional storms and
broken hearts and great turmoil. You
will need to surrender your baby dreams to the One who can mature them.
Sometimes a dream will fall into your inbox quite by
accident- but really, this is Providence. And other times, dreams will follow
you into your sleep quite intentionally- because God is doing something new.
Truth be told, I am no better than my ancestors- I dream
threatening dreams full of foreboding joy, ones which require the shedding of past
loves and the pursuit of offensive transformation. Dreams which build solid
foundations right over top of the crumbled remains of failure, dreams which are
sturdy enough to withstand all future storms. The sand is not rejected- it is
remade, hardened into thick and solid glass by the intense blaze of refining fire.
This is the way of Kingdom victory.
It’s time for new dreams.
It’s
time to choose your future.
I am leaving my two brothers behind me now, the ones I have
walked with through an important time of learning. I cherish the time I spent
with them in Genesis 27-33, because they taught me so much. They have been my
teachers of hard lessons- forgiveness, failure, redemption and conflict. I owe
so much to these broken brothers of the past, because our stories are so
similar and our paths are forever connected through the refining work of the
Spirit, weaving our stories together with divine expertise.
But now it’s time to let go, it’s time to move forward. I am
called to embark on a new journey- it’s time to walk with Joseph.
We will choose to let God do something new- the future is
unfolding now.
It begins in the pit of silence and solitude. Depression is
God’s gift to the body when it’s time to slow down. No, not the clinical kind
that needs medical attention and medication- that’s a different thing entirely.
I mean the semi-depressed state you fall into after the adrenaline of your epic
success or astronomical failure wears off. This is when the fight comes to an
end and your breath slows and you have nothing left to do with your hands, so
you pick up your ball and go home.
Sometimes the adrenaline can run on for months and months
afterwards, and then one day the smallest unexpected bit of finality brings the
great let-down which lays you low. And this is the blessing- the body does not
trust the judgement of the mind, rightfully so, and it imposes rest upon it.
Here in this place of couches, beds, pillows, blankets, floors, park benches,
pews, empty rooms and kitchen chairs there is a whole new world of opportunity-
this is the place of slowing down.
This is the place
where dreams are made.
It’s
time to choose something new.
During a time like this my ancestors in Scripture sometimes
run into the wilderness and sit down under broom trees, praying for the end to
come and sleeping for days on end while angels minister to their desperate
hunger and thirst. Others are plunged into lions dens or a dark desert well or
a prision cell to wait for Providence to rewrite their story.
As for me, I do not need anything so dramatic- I simply find
a spot on the carpet where the sun shines through the window and makes a large
checker-square of light on the floor. I sit down on my knees, there under the
light, becoming so small, and I bow my head and pull my dark green prayer shawl
over myself. I am surrounded by a glowing shade of greenish light. The warmth
is a nurturing embrace, welcoming me into the soft rays of peace and rest.
The adrenaline of
strife has drained away- this is the resting place. This is something new.
Angels minister to my needs as I glow there under the refining
light. Sand is hardened into thick glass.
This is the place where new dreaming takes place, here in
the warm embrace of the Son.
God has been interacting with me during the healing process,
responding to my journey in ways that reveal He is close during my time of
need. When Cain was filled with shame, so was I. When Hagar was revered for her
controversial story, so was I. When Esau wept at the feet of his superiors, so
did I. When Jacob injured his hip wrestling with God, so did I. And this week
is no different.
As
Joseph dreams, so do I.
Indeed, God has given me a dream this week which has blazed
light onto the sandy foundation of my shifting expectations. This dream
reminded me that my past keeps me humble, but never disqualified. Quite the
opposite- I get to choose how God sees me now, as a broken victim or a redeemed
and honored child of the King.
It’s a real dream, not a made-up story. It came to me quite
by accident, on precisely the perfect night, because the prophetic movement of
God is seldom early but never too late. I will share half of it now and half of
it later, with the dream of Joseph set down right in the middle-
I was in the backseat of a car
with an older female driver and passenger- they were the guardians of my
future- angels perhaps? Kind but serious and wise beings with the logic of
reason and the influence of decision- we were house-hunting together. We were
looking for the perfect location for my new ministry. I was a teacher of the
Scriptures and I needed a place to give my leadership a home. I would be
teaching children, and I needed a location to make this plan a reality.
I needed a safe place to rebuild my dream.
We drove up and down the
coastline of California, looking for just the right spot. Problem was, there
was a violent storm. Most of the beach was thrashed by wind and waves. Every
potential seaside location was too dangerous. And it had to be a shoreline
location, right by the water- this was a non-negotiable for all of us.
But as we drove, silently
observing the damaging effects of the storm, we came around a bend where one
small strip of sand was completely protected by a long, tall jetty covered with
big, old shade trees. It created a harbor, a safe haven, a place of solitude
and safety. The storm had not touched this small strip of sand.
We all looked at one another and nodded in
agreement. This was it.
This was the perfect place to
build a foundation- it would be protected from the storm. Here I would begin to
rebuild my ministry of leadership. My dream would have a home.
But it was with foreboding joy
that I thought of rebuilding my ministry upon the sand- in the past this had
ruined me. So there would be much work to do in preparation, in order to lay a
foundation upon this place. Sand would need to be refined and made firm, or my
building would be in vain. Although it was protected by the storm, it was still
exposed to the expanse of the rolling sea and the tides of change.
Yes,
there was much work to be done.
And so my guardians turned the
car around and they marked the little stretch of beach on a map so that we could
return with the tools, support and the Help we would need to begin. And we started
the long drive back down the coast, retracing our path through the storm. I
pressed my face to the window and gazed out at the wind and waves- the haven of
safety was small but it looked so full of hope and potential, so that I am was
longer discouraged by the raging weather.
And just as we came around the bend,
as the new location moved out of sight, I saw a tiny home all by itself on the
other side of the jetty, on the exposed portion of the beach. It was being
pounded by waves and appears to be completely endangered by the storm. It is
clearly going to be destroyed very soon.
I watched it as long as I could. I look very
closely, curious. And inside the window I saw a Man writing something at the
kitchen table, totally engrossed in His work and unconcerned, totally unaffected
by the chaos all around the little house. I wondered at His concentration.
I recognize the baby in the
highchair next to him. I have seen this baby before, in my nightmares, in my
dreams, and for the tiny tribe of readers that have followed me from the
beginning of my story, you will recall this infant child…
Sometimes eternal promise looks like a bad dream which is
actually the generous and loving intention of the universe. A dream can help
the mind bring closure to an otherwise impossible reality.
It’s time for new dreams-
I
declare that this is closure.
God, I invite Your Spirit to do something new.
I have come to Genesis 37 now, to dream with my brother
Joseph. And be warned, these are the kind of dreams that clear the way for
uncharted territory. They require storms and broken hearts, trust and great
danger. We will have to make peace with lost and damaged things- He takes it
all. We will have to surrender our baby dreams to Him for safekeeping.
We rest now in the waiting because we will soon be working
hard in the toil of transformation.
These dreams will leave the sleeper forever changed.
This is our story.
2 This is
the account of Jacob and his family. When Joseph was seventeen years old, he
often tended his father’s flocks. He worked for his half-brothers, the sons of
his father’s wives Bilhah and Zilpah. But Joseph reported to his father some of
the bad things his brothers were doing.
Right away you see that Joseph does not fit in. Instead of
joining the group, he stands off to the side and judges it. Right or wrong,
(and mostly right!) this judgement does him no favors. It will earn him hostile
excommunication from the people he called family. He has no filter, and he will
pay.
His emotional intelligence is still so immature- my brother
and I have so much to learn before we can achieve our dreams. The refinement is
only beginning. The baby stages of faith are when we toddle towards danger
without any idea it’s there. This is the opposite of vulnerability- it’s
stupidity.
I am with you, Joseph. Me too, brother. There is so much
shame in this place, because we are young and dumb and full of longing.
3 Jacob[a] loved Joseph more than any of his other
children because Joseph had been born to him in his old age. So one day Jacob
had a special gift made for Joseph—a beautiful robe.[b] 4 But his
brothers hated Joseph because their father loved him more than the rest of
them. They couldn’t say a kind word to him.
Have you ever found yourself completely alone in a crowd of
familiar faces? This can happen when we do not fit in and we become
hyper-sensitive to it for the first time- for any reason, really. In this case
it can happen when something you cherish becomes offensive to people- maybe
it’s a coat of many colors, maybe it’s a baby you want to save, or perhaps it’s
a confession that nobody understands. It is something which symbolizes your
difference from everyone else, a stigma that you cannot bring yourself to deny
or discard. It is the place of vulnerability, and when we are still immature we
don’t understand the danger of storms, the surrender of baby dreams, and so we build
castles in the sand.
When we flaunt our coats of many dreams, it puts distance
between ourselves and our community.
Right or wrong (and mostly right) because we
are emotionally immature and our judgement is inhibited by our ignorance. We are
just babies with no concept of hard work, patience or restraint.
We lack the proper perspective which only the Dream-writer
can give. We lack the safety of wisdom.
5 One night
Joseph had a dream, and when he told his brothers about it, they hated him more
than ever. 6 “Listen
to this dream,” he said. 7 “We were out in the field, tying up bundles of
grain. Suddenly my bundle stood up, and your bundles all gathered around and
bowed low before mine!”
How
stupid of us to think we could say such a thing out loud.
But it
cannot be taken back now- and once spoken it unleashes the power of stupid words upon
our head.
8 His
brothers responded, “So you think you will be our king, do you? Do you actually
think you will reign over us?” And they hated him all the more because of his
dreams and the way he talked about them.
This is the ripping away of the old to make room for the
new. Here we surrender our baby dreams. It is unfortunate that it will cost us
so dearly, but to enter into the resting place we must have every hindrance and
distraction stripped away. This is our own doing, but all lost dreams can be reborn
in time.
We can do nothing else because we know so little- we are
still just babies. We repeatedly try the same thing again and again, always
expecting a different result. This is insanity. We are ignorant of how our
behavior is exhausting and defeating to those who try to help us. We are caught
up in ethereal visions that don’t translate well in our present condition or
our current environment. Our castles are all upon the sand, and the storm is corroding
the beach.
9 Soon
Joseph had another dream, and again he told his brothers about it. “Listen, I
have had another dream,” he said. “The sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed low
before me!”
Even now, when warning signs are all around us, we do not
have the eyes to see or the ears to hear. Childlike innocence is our folly-
stupidity is our sin. We keep talking, speaking death to our current destiny
and setting the course for an entirely new trajectory.
God
is doing something new.
10 This time
he told the dream to his father as well as to his brothers, but his father
scolded him. “What kind of dream is that?” he asked. “Will your mother and I
and your brothers actually come and bow to the ground before you?”
This is what we have been made for- to dream ridiculous and
impossible dreams, to surrender our babies to Him and trust the outcome. But
most people cannot understand, and we ourselves do not understand.
There is a Higher Power at work within us, doing things that
don’t make sense.
11 But
while his brothers were jealous of Joseph, his father wondered what the dreams
meant.
Once in a while we will at least find someone who can
glimpse a bit of the hope and promise that is prophesied within our offensive
words. We are lucky to find a friend who listens and asks curious questions,
someone who senses a divine potential in our unfolding story. Our prophetic
ramblings are noticed by a few, and the universe nods in recognition,
acknowledging this truth from afar.
Our prophetic words will be honored in due time. Our baby
will be raised up. Yet this moment of deep-seeded interest cannot last for long
because the story must continue on into the hard place.
12 Soon
after this, Joseph’s brothers went to pasture their father’s flocks at
Shechem. 13 When they
had been gone for some time, Jacob said to Joseph, “Your brothers are pasturing
the sheep at Shechem. Get ready, and I will send you to them.”
“I’m ready to go,” Joseph replied.
14 “Go and
see how your brothers and the flocks are getting along,” Jacob said. “Then come
back and bring me a report.” So Jacob sent him on his way, and Joseph traveled
to Shechem from their home in the valley of Hebron.
My brother and I walk unknowingly into a nightmare of sorts,
the kind that makes our dreams of victory seem so far removed from reality. We
are only babies, but we will soon learn and grow.
Yet there is a Man who is writing our story, and He shows up
on the scene, right before we fall headlong into disaster. He is the protector
of children in stormy weather.
15 When he
arrived there, a man from the area noticed him wandering around the
countryside. “What are you looking for?” he asked.
Our Redeemer, of course. The composer of stories, the writer
of symphonies, the dream catcher, the Father of broken children. He keeps our
journey on course, because the hard place must be reached in order for our
transformation to begin. He points us in the right direction.
16 “I’m
looking for my brothers,” Joseph replied. “Do you know where they are pasturing
their sheep?”
17 “Yes,”
the man told him. “They have moved on from here, but I heard them say, ‘Let’s
go on to Dothan.’” So Joseph followed his brothers to Dothan and found them
there.
As we round the last bend, we come upon a scene that looks
innocent and inviting. But remember that we carry much emotional immaturity,
and we cannot rely on our own perception to perceive the truth. Reality will
rear its’ ugly head and bring our ignorance and stupidity crashing down on our
very heads like a giant wave from the sea.
18 When Joseph’s brothers saw him coming, they recognized him in
the distance. As he approached, they made plans to kill him. 19 “Here comes the dreamer!” they said. 20 “Come on, let’s kill him and throw him into one of these
cisterns. We can tell our father, ‘A wild animal has eaten him.’ Then we’ll see
what becomes of his dreams!”
The world hates dreams- it wants to crush them. Especially
the dreams that don’t fit into nicely formed communities or well established
religions. Because dreams can be nasty
things, unexpected and offensive. They are made of foreign stars, full of hope
and light and promise. And to shed this light on the darkness of others, well
it blinds their eyes and exposes their failures. In a world driven by religion
and propriety, dreams are a threat.
Dreams make people angry sometimes, especially those who have none or have lost
the ones they wanted.
21 But when Reuben heard of their scheme, he came to Joseph’s
rescue. “Let’s not kill him,” he said. 22 “Why should we shed any blood? Let’s just throw him into this
empty cistern here in the wilderness. Then he’ll die without our laying a hand
on him.” Reuben was secretly planning to rescue Joseph and return him to his
father.
Yes, thank God for that one friend who understands and wants
to be there for us. God bless that precious human being who will stand up for
us in some small way. But our dreams are too big to be contained, and the
push-back is too great to overcome with well-meaning intent. Nobody can talk
their way out of this one. Nobody can save us from this.
We are stripped of our childhood folly and childlike
innocence- this is the storm of reckoning. Our childlike dreaming is in need of
rescue.
23 So when Joseph arrived, his brothers ripped off the beautiful
robe he was wearing. 24 Then
they grabbed him and threw him into the cistern. Now the cistern was empty;
there was no water in it. 25 Then,
just as they were sitting down to eat, they looked up and saw a caravan of
camels in the distance coming toward them. It was a group of Ishmaelite traders
taking a load of gum, balm, and aromatic resin from Gilead down to Egypt.
We are stripped of everything that gets in the way of our
dream becoming wise. This is the dark pit of forced rest. Any potential
hindrance to our complete victory is taken from us. And we are thrown into the
crucible, the place of refinement. This can be a dry well in the desert, the
shade of a broom tree in the wilderness, a prision or a pew or a soft pillow on
the floor in the sunlight, but it’s all the same.
It’s the resting place, where we are forced to evaluate our dreams from
a place of solitude and silence, devoid of all human understanding.
And so we wait for our transformation like a caterpillar
anticipating the destruction of all things within itself inside the dark, confining
chrysalis.
26 Judah
said to his brothers, “What will we gain by killing our brother? We’d have to
cover up the crime.[c] 27 Instead
of hurting him, let’s sell him to those Ishmaelite traders. After all, he is
our brother—our own flesh and blood!” And his brothers agreed. 28 So when the Ishmaelites,
who were Midianite traders, came by, Joseph’s brothers pulled him out of the
cistern and sold him to them for twenty pieces[d] of silver. And the traders took him to
Egypt.
Here we go now! The storm has begun. We don’t know it but God is doing something new. All this
pain and sorrow is only the beginning of a beautiful adventure. There will be
so many setbacks and detours, but they will all be necessary to make us into
who we are becoming. We are carried away on the back of destiny, a slave to
uncertainty but certain to succeed.
Our story is unfolding and it feels unreal, like a nightmare.
But we are not forgotten- God always leaves a remnant.
Thank God for that one friend who sees and cares.
29 Some time later, Reuben returned to get Joseph out of the
cistern. When he discovered that Joseph was missing, he tore his clothes in
grief. 30 Then he went back to his
brothers and lamented, “The boy is gone! What will I do now?”
There are those we leave behind who truly appreciate our
worth- these are rare friends who you should shower with gratitude whenever you
can. Hold onto them. These are the people who will be Jesus to you in a harsh
and critical world. These are the kind ones who step out from the depths of
legalism and religion and show us how to rise above. We will see this friend
again, after our transformation is complete and His plan comes to fruition and
our baby dreams have matured.
But for now we say goodbye and turn our faces into the wind.
31 Then the
brothers killed a young goat and dipped Joseph’s robe in its blood. 32 They sent the beautiful
robe to their father with this message: “Look at what we found. Doesn’t this
robe belong to your son?”
Growth requires grief- the dream will cost because of our
foolish ignorance. Others pay the price, too, and mourn what must be lost to
the violence of the sea. Our dreaming will mean the dashing of pride against
the rocks. Some good people will be hurt in the storm of our emotions, because in
times like this you hurt the people who are closest to you.
33 Their
father recognized it immediately. “Yes,” he said, “it is my son’s robe. A wild
animal must have eaten him. Joseph has clearly been torn to pieces!” 34 Then Jacob tore his clothes
and dressed himself in burlap. He mourned deeply for his son for a long
time. 35 His
family all tried to comfort him, but he refused to be comforted. “I will go to
my grave[e]mourning
for my son,” he would say, and then he would weep.
Oh and the damage we have left behind, it is insurmountable.
Only the blood of Christ can clean up this mess. There is much to regret, even
as we walk steadily away, footprints in the sand. Through our own foolishness
we have brought offense upon our head and wounded the hearts of those who loved
us. In the violence of our own storm we
will lose our baby dreams to the wind.
It is certainly complicated; this impossible weaving of
dreams is the union of pain and promise, hope and fear, regret and certainty,
storms and peace.
Such a mess we leave behind- the damage will last for years
to come.
God
is doing something new.
But there is not time for mourning now, it’s time to follow
Joseph up out of this pit of dark solitude and on through the desert to the
place of destiny.
36 Meanwhile,
the Midianite traders[f] arrived in Egypt, where they sold Joseph to
Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh, the king of Egypt. Potiphar was captain of the
palace guard.
It’s time to let go, it’s time to move forward. I am called
to embark on a new journey- it’s time to walk with Joseph. It’s time to choose
a new future.
It’s time for new dreams.
We start by resting and making room, saving space for the
Spirit to move.
And depression is God’s gift to the body when it’s time to
slow down. No, not the clinical kind that needs medical attention and medication-
that’s a different thing entirely. I mean the semi-depressed state you enter
after the adrenaline of your epic success or astronomical failure wears off.
Sometimes the adrenaline can run for months and months, and then one day the
smallest unexpected bit of finality brings the let-down which lays you low. And
this is the blessing- the body does not trust the judgement of the mind, so it
imposes rest upon it. Here in this place of couches, beds, pillows, blankets,
floors, park benches, pews, silent sanctuaries,
empty rooms and kitchen chairs there is a whole new world of opportunity- this
is the place of dreams.
During a time like this my ancestors in Scripture sometimes
run into the wilderness and sit down under broom trees, praying for the end to
come and sleeping for days on end while angels minister to their hungry emptiness.
As for me, I find a spot on the carpet where the sun shines
through the window and makes a large checker-square of light on the floor. I sit
down on my knees, becoming so small, lower my head and pull my dark green
prayer shawl over myself. The warmth is a nurturing embrace, welcoming me into
the soft rays of peace and rest. The adrenaline of strife has drained away-
this is the resting place.
Angels minister to my needs as I glow there under the light.
This is the place where new dreaming takes place, here in
the warm embrace of the Son.
And indeed, God has
given me a dream this week which has shaken the foundations of my expectations.
This dream reminded me that my past keeps me humble, but never disqualified. I
get to choose how God sees me now- as a broken victim or a redeemed and honored
child of the King.
Because sometimes eternal promise looks like a bad dream
which is actually the generous and loving intention of the universe.
A
new dream can help the mind bring closure to an otherwise impossible reality.
I have stepped into Genesis 37 now, and I too have been
given a new dream to hold onto, because God is drawing near to me during my
time of healing...
We had pinpointed a safe harbor for my new classroom- I was a teacher
of the Scriptures and I had found a new place to belong. A foundation upon
which to build a ministry of peace and reconciliation.
And just as we come around the bind, right when the new location moved
out of sight, I saw a tiny home all by itself on the other side of the jetty,
on the exposed side of the beach. It was being pounded by waves and appeared to
be severely endangered by the storm. I watched it as long as I could,
enraptured. Because inside the window I saw a Man writing something at the
kitchen table, totally engrossed in His work, unconcerned and unaffected by the
chaos all around Him. I did not see the expression on His face as He was
looking down, but I wondered at his concentration as He wrote. And I recognize
the baby in the highchair next to him.
I have seen this baby in other dreams, ones which came to me at the
beginning of my long hard road to victory. Yes, I know this baby. It used to be
my dream for leadership, the calling of my heart for ministry and connection,
and I thought it was lost to me in nightmares long past. It was the child of my
desire for serving the church, born in another lifetime. I held this baby when
I wore a coat of many colors, like my bother Joseph. I held this baby while I
destined my fate, speaking words of foolishness.
Dear Joseph, our fate was foretold in our childlike ignorance.
And as my guardian angels drove me out of the storm and into new
vision, I saw this baby, this child of my hopes and dreams, in the care of Another,
protected from the wind and waves even as they crashed against the frail and
threatened home where the Man was busy writing. The baby did not cry- this is
the first time I have seen this baby without tears. For the first time my hopes
and dreams do not feel dashed.
And I myself did not cry-
instead I felt certain that the Man would know when it was the right time to
leave, and He would take the baby with Himself to a safer place. I watch the window
disappear out of sight with a strange confidence that all would be well.
My
dreams are in Safe Hands.
And I turned my thoughts to the work still ahead of me- that place of
ministry which I would build with the help of my divine guardians on a piece of
beach protected from the storm of swirling emotions. This was the beginning of
a new kind of kingdom, one that had both hard work and high risk and great
reward. A foundation full of hard-earned wisdom.
Such are the dreams of my ancestors, too, the ones who took the long
hard road through the storm towards victory, entrusting the safety and care of
their precious things to the One who wrote their story, holding fast to peace
in the midst of the turmoil.
Reader, be warned, these are the kind of dreams that clear
the way for uncharted territory. They get down into the parts of you that you
didn’t know were there. And be warned, these are the kind of dreams that require
surrender and submission to refinement. They require emotional storms and
broken hearts and great turmoil. You
will need to surrender your baby dreams to the One who can mature them.
We rest now because we will soon be working hard in the toil
of transformation. These dreams will leave the sleeper forever changed. This
pit of despair is the waiting place for the renewal of all things.
Sometimes a dream will fall into your inbox quite by
accident- but really, this is Providence. And other times, dreams will follow
you into your sleep quite intentionally- because God is doing something new, and because you are following an
ancestral brother who is a dreamer of dangerous aspirations.
I myself am no better than my ancestors- I dream threatening
dreams full of foreboding joy, ones which require the shedding of past loves and
the pursuit of offensive transformation. Ones which build solid foundations
right over the sand, sturdy enough to withstand storms. Ones which require the
entrusting of our childlike hopes and desires to the Man who is unaffected by
the storm.
This is the way of Kingdom victory.
This
is choosing a new future.
Dear tiny tribe of readers, know that this journey I am
taking through Scripture is a consolation when the adrenaline wears away. Writing my way through a heritage of broken
hearts has been a gift and a grace. I am looking forward to journeying with
my brother Joseph as we travel the road of transformation together. There are
so many defining moments that are haunted with prophesy and glittering with
promise. This is the reality of our childlike
dreams.
I hope you will join me here again, my friend, as we
continue to fall in line with our ancestors in Scripture in order better
understand the inner workings of our own restless souls.
May all beings be peaceful and happy, knowing that He
composes your story with grace and peace even in the midst of your worst storm.
God is doing
something new.
Amen and Amen.
~*~
With
deepest gratitude
for
my tiny tribe of readers-
Rebecca
