But I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble. (Psalm 59:6)
A couple mornings ago, I woke from a “The
Hiding Place” type dream. The soldiers or police were breaking into my home and
I had not had time to figure out how to build a secret room in which to hide
others or myself. Given advances in technology, I doubt such a room would be of
use. It would have to be a bunker hidden so far underground that neither
ground-penetrating radar nor infra-red scanners could find it and soundproofed
so no microphone could hear voices. Not only that, with all the cameras out
there – I’d have had the problem of people entering but not leaving. I don’t
think there is any way I could hide myself or others in or around my home, but
dreams don’t take those bits of reality into account. I was terrified because
the storm-troopers were there, but I was more hurt by the fact that I had failed
others and myself.
I don’t often remember dreams and it’s
rare that I have a dream like that, but what it suggests to me is that I’m
concerned – maybe even anxious or worried – about the way things are going in
this country. I’m not saying it will get that bad – but my mind clearly
considers it within the realm of possibility. Then I opened up Biblegateway.com
this morning and get the first passage as the verse of the day. Why was my
answer in the dream, “Oh no! I’m a failure” and not “You are my fortress!”?
I’ve said before that when we’re in pain,
angry, or afraid, our universe shrinks down to the size and shape of the source
of the pain, anger, or fear. I think that I tend to think in terms of broken
bones, fury, or terror instead of a slap across the face, a minor irritation,
or something that causes the tiniest concern. It’s embarrassing how small a fear
– or something that doesn’t even qualify as fear can take control.
Now, yes, I know, it was a dream. I shouldn’t
be so hard on myself, and I’m actually not. I’m not criticizing as much as I am
observing. I’m questioning. Big things cause our universes to shrink. How small
a thing does it have to be to not cause the universe to shrink? Unfortunately,
when our universes shrink, it’s like a black hole. The thing can be the size of
a grain of sand but has so much gravitational pull that even light reach escape
velocity.
The only hope is to turn to something – or
Someone – who is more powerful than gravity. It’s not something that comes
naturally. It’s something like the battle I had this morning. Yesterday, I
listened to “American Pie” by Don McClean and Home Free. They do a good job,
but it’s an earworm. As I walked and tried to pray this morning, the song kept
repeating. I tried to counter with “I Love You, Lord.” That worked as long as I
focused on it. Other things worked as long as I focused on them. The moment my mind
wandered…
“…bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and
rye
Singing this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die”
The
lesson? When we notice our focus isn’t where we want it to be, be need to change
focus, change records, and run to the Fortress.
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