Those Windows Into Our Souls

I've been dreaming lately.  A lot.  Not nightmares per se, but nor of comfort or peace.  

Like the dream I had of driving home in the rain, my windshield wipers on at a steady pace, the rain smothering the windshield.  I was plagued by the shortness of my vision, unable to make out lines and turns, oncoming traffic or signs of counsel.  I eventually, somehow safely, pulled up behind a stopped car only to realize that one of my headlights was out.  And the other headlight was a dim haze in the slow-churning storm.  I woke up.  I never made it home.  

Or the dream I had of trying to find the route home on Interstate 65 up through the north side of Indianapolis to Zionsville.  On my way home, I was displaced and dislocated into a small urban area on the near north east side of Indianapolis.  For the remainder of the evening, I was caught in a building with several children.  And in that place there was the chaos and comedy of adolescent energies, bouncing between rooms and out of bunk beds, unable to stay centered in a chair.  I longed to get out of those rooms and walls.  When I did finally secure an escape, I was left walking the streets as an obvious stranger, a wanderer with no awareness of how to find my car, my street, my exit.

So, I'm listening to what those dreams are saying within me - letting fears surface into my mind like pockets of air trapped in deep seas.

But, during the day, I've returned to reading the Scriptures.  I am taking those same fears and immersing them into ancient counsel and steady assurances.  I am reading about Joseph and betrayals that end in reconciliation and deep, overwhelming gladness.  I am reading about Peter and shortcomings that are overrun by the one who traverses even the chaos of the sea - turning the very object of terror into a playground of faith.  And, I am learning that even my faith can be buttressed by pauses of remembrance and loosening of demands and time tables.

And tonight I not only read but understood what Julian of Norwhich said in courage and hope:  

"Just as our flesh is covered by clothing; and our blood covered by our flesh, so are we, soul and body, covered and enclosed by the goodness of God.  Yet the clothing and the flesh will pass away, but the goodness of God will always remain and will remain closer to us than our own flesh ...

"All shall be well and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."

Then sings my soul the same.

Wes