Learning to take refuge in the storm . . .

I have very vivid dreams. Usually they are variations on the same themes. Fear of getting lost, fear of falling behind, fear of not knowing - see a theme here? The one I used to have the most was about not finishing school and having to go back to high-school as a thirty something to finish up missing class credits.

Last night I had a new dream. One I've never had before but one that doesn't surprise me. I was walking in a small town, browsing the shop windows and saying hello to the people walking on the street. There were all the signs of a peaceful existence, women pushing strollers, men out jogging, an older couple walking their dog, a woman talking on her cell phone while her pre-teen daughter and her friend giggled at a secret joke. I watched it all and felt the warm of the sun on my face and breathed in what smelled like the fresh smell of spring. Suddenly, the sky began to darken and the soft breeze turned into a stiff wind. Bits of garbage started to blow in the street, people clutched their packages a bit tighter but everyone went about their business as normal.

Suddenly, the skies grew dark. That grayish, greenish kind of dark that those from the south and the mid-west know all too well. I felt my heart beat faster and had trouble catching my breath. I knew what was coming.

Frantically, I started yelling at everyone I saw, "We need to get inside. We need to take cover." Some people listened and quickly followed my advice. Others laughed, others shook their heads like they didn't understand. I pleaded with them, called to them, waved them to the doorway of the bookstore (of course!) that I was standing in front of. By now, the winds were so strong it was difficult to walk. And yet, some people stubbornly refused to stop their activities and look at the storm.

Me? I got to a point where I was so frightened, so tired of yelling, so overwhelmed, that I crawled in to the bookstore and curled in the fetal position. I cried as I heard the wind screaming over the roof of the little bookstore and heard the glass of businesses along the little street break in the wind. There was nothing I could do to avoid the wrath of the storm - just hide and try to survive and try to warn others to do the same.

I don't know all the deep meanings of this dream or pretend that it has any profound meanings to you, my dear friends. I know that yesterday, we got the bad news that one of our beloved neighbor ladies has terminal cancer and will likely not live to see her beautiful roses bloom this spring. The couple is estranged from their children and the families of our neighborhood are their only "family". Death is such an uncomfortable and foreign landscape in my life. I've only had to visit within its fences a few times in my life and I've never been comfortable in the places of grieving and loss. The emotions in myself and others scare me with their power and range. Needless to say, I think the I know where that helpless feeling of being caught in a storm came from.

And yet, I take comfort in knowing that even in the fiercest of life's storms, I am not alone. God has given me the precious gifts of His presence, his promises and the support of others who will walk with me (or sit with me!) through life's storms. He promises to be a refuge in those storms. (I think it's no accident that I took refuge in a place that I love - a bookstore! Other than an old church - there's no other building I'd rather visit.)

The words of the Psalmist give me comfort. "Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken." Psalm 62:5-6

The lesson I think I need to learn from this dream? Don't be stubborn - take the shelter that is offered to you when you need to weather the storms. I think I'll need this lesson in the coming days.