Led by a Dream

Today I did something I have never done before that turned into a grand adventure.  It all started three nights ago with a dream I had...

I had a dream that I was in the midst of a crowded beach-like tourist place.  There were lots of people with their blankets out, swimmers, boaters, venders.  I'm not sure I was actually participating in the dream; I may have been viewing it all from the outside.  This place was also a dream version of a real-world place.  I live near Dorena Reservoir, a man-made lake with roads going all the way around the lake.  On the north side of the lake there is also a bike path known as the Row River Trail that runs near that shore the entire length of the lake.  The path, now paved and used for biking, walking, horseback riding, once was a railroad bed from when the trains ran up to the sawmills above the lake.

There is a boat ramp at a place called Harms Park.  There is also a parking lot and restrooms.  Harms Park is located near Rat Creek, a small creek coming out of the hills and flowing into Dorena Lake.  The road around the lake crosses Rat Creek on a bridge that runs parallel and right next to a similar old railroad bridge that has been retrofitted to accommodate the bike path.  Funny story for another time: I once had a near-death experience on this bridge by way of wrecking a dogsled.

Anyway, in my dream I was upstream a bit from the bridge observing all the festive beach-like activities in the dream-world.  In the dream this was a much more festive place, like some famous boardwalk in Atlantic City or Santa Cruz.  Also in the dream the bike path was still a railroad track.

Observing as I was in the dream, I saw a person running up the track, waving frantically, trying to get an oncoming train's attention.  The bridge was out.  But the train kept coming and everyone around seemed oblivious.  The train came to the bridge and went crashing down into the creek and lake in loud, explosive destruction.  People screamed.  The entire scene was transformed into chaos.  I ran down closer as the train sunk into the lake, debris and bodies everywhere.

And that is pretty much what I remember of the dream.  Except that the next day it stayed in my mind.  I remembered details of the person trying to get the train's attention, trying to wave people away.  I remember the train conductor staring ahead, clueless, not paying attention to the warnings.  I spent the next couple of days pondering these thoughts and deciding I should write about them.

Sometimes we are lost in our own world and do not see the warning signs of destruction around us.  Communication can be blaring and screaming in front of us but if we refuse to listen, if we are caught in our own distractions, then we are not going to hear.  Communication, and relationship, requires effort on both ends...or else it leads to derailment and destruction.

Since today was Thanksgiving and I had down time I decided that I would head up to the lake and get a couple of pictures of the bridge in order to use them in my writing about this dream.  I am very blessed to live less than a mile downstream from the Dorena Dam and so the Row River Trail and lake and all of this beautiful scenery is literally a walk or very short drive from home.  I try to take advantage and walk or ride along the trail.  These locations have provided me with many good mind-clearing, meditative, prayer-full, worship-full, de-stressing experiences.  So I planned to snap a few pictures of the bridge and have a good walk.

But when I arrived, parked my car and started to walk I was drawn to the lake itself.  We've had some dry years and the lake is always drained in the winter as it primarily serves a purpose of flood control.  The water is VERY low this year.  I found myself walking out onto the lake bed.  It was a blustery, overcast day, just a hint of sprinkly raindrops every so often, and I love storms.  The lake bed was beautiful...mud and cracks, small streams and puddles, less and less greenery and debris the further out I went.

I have been to the edges of the lake this time of year before, and more so at the upper end of the lake.  I had a friend that lived near there when I was in elementary school and we would sometimes go out and play there.  But that was higher up, in the deep grassy areas, where the ground had had more time to dry out and was higher.  In all my life living here I have never went as far out as I did today.

It was gorgeous and amazing.

Other-worldly.

Silent except quietly running water and the wind.  Very little signs of life.  A few deer tracks.  The tracks of one person and their dog.  A single blue herring in the distance.  A few large tree debris scattered around, a couple of bricks which had once served as anchors probably for boaters.  A beer bottle.  A piece of a boating toy of some kind.  A leaf or twig here and there.

It was as though time itself was standing still.

I found myself laughing and talking loudly to God, praying and praising and thanking Him for the experience He was giving me.  It was like I had discovered some sort of secret place, a hidden jewel, outside of time and outside of the busyness and hubbub of life and the world.  I wanted to sing and dance and take a picture of every little treasure of a spot that I stumbled upon.  Every stone laying in the mud, every leaf blown from the hill and out onto the plain.  Every little stream of water flowing down from the hills and down into the remaining channels, making its way to the dam, the river, the ocean.

I very quickly realized that the purpose of my dream was to get me out there into this silent, peaceful island of space-time.  It was a Kairos-time moment for me.  A walk thru the mud with my Jesus, a new appreciation and perspective for this lake, this spot, that has been right under my nose for my entire life.

The plain, murky, muddy, void that was the lake-bed could easily look like a plain of ancient destruction.  Like some post-apocalyptic landscape.  Or some metaphorical world representing Hell.  The season is late Fall and the landscape is preparing for winter and hibernation.  And yet not only did I feel God all around me, I could see LIFE.

Eventually I decided to head back to "shore".  Still walking in amazement as I started my car and the radio came on, the song "Come Alive" by Lauren Daigle was playing.  Immediately I was physically struck again at how absolutely fitting the images of the song were to my experience.  The song speaks of the dry bones the prophet Ezekiel saw--in a vision, or a DREAM--come alive, the breath of God breathing, an army rising up out of the ashes, of life coming, rising, up out of ashes, darkness, hopelessness.

Lauren Daigle: "Come Alive (Dry Bones)"

What I was reminded of today is that God is everywhere.  Even in the midst of empty voids.  In the midst of storms.  Broken hearts.  Destruction.  Pain.  Emptiness.  Loss.  The things that were not meant to be.  God still walks alongside, cares, loves, and carries us when necessary.

Even in the midst of these things, hope is never lost.  A valley of dry bones can always be raised up into an army.  Dried up, cracked ground can bring forth fresh, green, growing life.  Our greatest failures and biggest mistakes can be redeemed.  Out of the ashes, life.

I watched "Alice Through the Looking Glass" tonight.  In this tale Alice tries to travel back in time to prevent the Mad Hatter's family from being killed.  But the character of Time himself tells her that it is impossible to change the past, but that we can learn from it.  And, I think, that is the lesson of the dry bones.  That is the lesson of the lake-bed.  Out of death, destruction, devastation, evil...God is still present, and God brings LIFE anew.