A Christmas Dream

Nancy went outside for a brisk Christmas stroll,

When all unaware, she fell down a deep hole.

She kept right on falling 'till hands grabbed her heels,

Hands attached to no body! - Don't tell me they're real!

She cried, "Help God, though I don't usually call on your name.

I'm hanging here out of control. I'm not sure that I'm sane."

Nancy dangling alone in that dank, hopeless place,

Thought it useless to squeal or itch the nose on her face.

She gasped to get air into her lungs, intending to scream,

But "Common Sense" told her, "You're just having a dream."

"Its no time for tears, Nancy, futile struggles, or shouts,

Find out why you're dreaming and what to do to get out."

Strong hands held onto her, so whether dreaming or not,

She heard a voice: "Nancy get faith, give it all that you've got.

If you can believe what you hear, and then do what I say,

I'll take care of all of your fears, I'll whisk them away."

"First, leap, then give a flip, like you can do with such class!

Don't worry, I won't let you fall, I'm holding onto you fast."

"We're going to leave crowded stores and frantic consumers behind, 

Go and search for THE REAL CHRISTMAS where all the giving is mine!"

Nancy twisted and flipped just as told, did that and no more,

But she kept twirling and whirling 'till she stopped by a door.

On the door hung a sign, "Enter" - Was there a hand on her arm?

She stood in front of a cave that had been made into a barn!

It was then that she realized she was in the city of Bethlehem,

In a company of shepherds, woolly sheep, and some very wise men.

She knew it was Jesus in a manger when she heard angel choirs sing.

She smiled big at this little baby who one day would be a King!

"Mary, can I lift up your baby boy and hold him next to my heart?'

Mary nodded, so she lifted, but seeing his hands gave her a start,

There were deep holes in tiny wrists, sized to hold a cruel nail,

Yet he smiled, grasped her fingers, his squeeze was not frail. -

Even now he could lift her out of a dark hole if she fell in,

When needing love, there was love she could hold, centered in Him.

That's the end of this poem, dreamed for this Christmas Day.

If you want to know more, there's a very sure way.

Just go find a bible and read Luke, Chapter 2,

This Coming Soon Jesus will reach out and hold you!

Merry Christmas from Stephen and Evelyn Donnell 

Due to personal problems the BLOG was shelved temporarily but not permanently.  October 14, I asked Abba Father to send a dream appropriate for the BLOG.  Early October 15, I dreamed this:

I was sitting with a group of 8 or 10 ladies in a room with blank white walls, and a plain grey carpet.  There was a circle of straight backed chairs, arranged to seat guests. Two tables without lamps, pictures, or books were the only other furniture.  No dust anywhere.  As I looked about I thought, "How sterile."

Women were talking about the death of one of their friends.  "Poor Peggy", they intoned like a chorus in Greek tragedy.  "She was left, neglected and deserted by everyone before she passed away. " All of the women (expect me) nodded in agreement.  They thought she had been treated shamefully at the end of her life.

I spoke with authority:  "That is not true!  Her friends came to see Peggy regularly.  Her husband and mine were friends.  We spent time together despite her illness.  Others came too; family members, neighbors.  Her daughter came every day.  At the end, Peggy refused to see anyone anymore.  Why, I'm not sure.  She said she didn't want to be seen looking like she looked.  She always was particular of appearance and kept her home in 'apple pie' order."

A large woman jumped up from her chair across from me.  She had begun the discussion about "Poor Peggy".  She confronted me:  "You don't know what you're talking about! You didn't see what really happened.  I did."  She faced others now sitting in embarrassed silence.  With exaggerated horror she exclaimed, "Why they even moved Peggy into drafty, unheated farm shed.  She was laid on an old army cot, all alone in the dark, not enough blankets to keep her warm.  She was left there until her death!"

I responded vehemently: "Don't believe gossip, ladies.  Don't repeat lies.  Peggy told people she wanted to be left alone.  That was her wish.  Anyone who came to comfort her was turned away.  Yes, in her mind she was in a cold, dark place, but that was her choice.  That was not the decision of all those who loved her and wanted to help.

I WOKE UP. . . . . . . . . . . . .Here is what the dream spoke to me:
1.  Recognize and challenge your enemies' lies.  Satan come to "steal, kill and destroy."  Jesus comes so "you may have life and have it abundantly."  We need to expose lies, not accept them.  Some people would capture and control the thoughts of others, so go on the offensive.  Risk telling the truth.
2.  If our lives are too clean outwardly, whitewashed, without a speak of dust showing, something is terribly wrong.  We are human.  We need a savior.  We need to love each other, regardless of circumstances put off pretense, even when your life is sick, cluttered and spotted with sin, let Jesus and His people in.  We need each other. - What did this dream say to you?
Love Evelyn

September 1, 2013 

Exodus 15:22-27

Pastor-Teacher David Eddy of Faith Center in Island City used the Exodus 15 passages to preach a robust, thoughtful sermon this Sunday morning.  Some of us, maybe many of us are struggling through a "wilderness walk" right now.  If not right now, we eventually will.  As a trustworthy friend said, "God don't give us no velvet road to travel."  This wisdom explains our need for direction and God's refreshing presence in our wilderness.

Surprisingly, as I listened to pastor's sermon a vivid picture, a "Vision" was playing concurrently on the screen of my mind.  I felt the desperation Moses expressed when he pleaded for God's intervention.  Moses needed a touch that would turn bitter water into sweet. Like Moses, I was looking for a miracle.

The Lord told Moses: "Pick up a stick and throw it into the poisonous water."  He told me the same thing.

I looked around and saw the ground I was standing on was strewn with sticks.  Some were gnarled and twisted.  Some were crooked and bent. Some had splintered ends.  Some were covered with prickly spikes.  Others had been stripped of their natural bark.  Some were too large for me to throw, others too small and weightless.  None of the sticks seemed appropriate.  As I looked at them I saw that they represented fear, jealousy, pain, pride, brokenness:  a disconnect from life itself.  I didn't want to pick up any of them.  I didn't want to touch even one of them.

"Where is my special stick, Lord? Surely none of these scattered here are for me?"  Then I glanced at my feet.  Touching the toe of one sandal was a different kind of stick; a green branch, broken off a living tree.  It still smelled fragrant, fresh, and new.  Some vibrant leaves were still attached.  Tiny buds pushed through the smooth bark.  A clear red sap oozed out from where the wood had been torn off the parent tree.  

God spoke: "This is the one for you.  This is my Righteous Branch.  Throw it into your pool of bitter water." I picked up the wood, whirled it around overhead, and threw it with all my might.  The water instantly changed color and become pure, fresh and clear.  It was water I could drink, water I could offer to others as they walked through their own deserts.

Examining my hands I saw no splinters, no wounds, no bruises.  My palms were streaked with red, glistening tree sap.  As I lifted them toward heaven in thanksgiving a sweet unexpected fragrance arose.  So now I knew.  This was my JESUS STICK and no matter what the situation it worked.  I cleared the putrid waters in my life.  No matter where I traveled this branch of God will go with me.  I will always get my needs met, my soul refreshed.  God's perfect miracles will be there waiting for me to grab hold of them.

It is the end of April and I'm just now slipping this dream in before the close of the month.  This has been a "Mad Hatters" month for me, trying to find my way in a game of "Blind Man's Bluff".  I asked the Lord for a dream to blog.  This is what came a few nights ago.

I was in a large meeting room with a group of men and women.  The quiet talk, peaceful atmosphere changed instantly when someone entered the room shouting a new war had started.  Already there had been great suffering, cities destroyed, refugees fleeing, and much conjecture that our country might be pulled into the mayhem.  All of us were alarmed, anxious, agitated and we began shooting questions at the one who brought the news.  Surprisingly we soon calmed down, took our seats and were ready to go on with the meeting and the business at hand.

I remember speaking to people near me: "Wars and Rumors of Wars" don't seem to have a lasting effect on those people who are not yet personally involved, do they?"  But then the ground beneath our feet began shaking, the building we were in started shaking.  The atmosphere completely changed.  Our business was laid aside.  Voices, exclamations, prayers filled the room.  I was praying when I awoke.  

Conclusion:  When disaster strikes, when our job is wiped out, bank account gone, when our home is flooded, or burned down or robbed; when health problems threaten our life, then everything is different.  Many fall to their knees crying, "O God, DELIVER me, HELP me, SAVE me.  HIDE me in the cleft in your rock."  Then my husband's World War II Ernie Pyle quote applies: "There are no atheists in fox holes."

What else does my dream tell me?: Tragedy can be used for good when tragedy drives us to God.  In the midst of it, love for Abba Father can deepen and become very real.  After the test of faith is over, look up. A double rainbow rides above the clouds.

"Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you. I don't give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27

Next month's plan is to write a dream blog every week.  By the end of May, the story of a dream God sent me will come to it's drum rolling conclusion.  Do you know God enjoys using the science fiction genre? - Blog in and see it at work.
Evelyn

When God speaks in unusual dreams

GOD IS NOT SILENT.  HE speaks through His word, special dreams and visions.  This month I write about the strangest dream I've ever had.  I was ready to dismiss it as nonsense, but a little voice inside insisted, "WAIT!" - "Ask God to reveal what this dream is all about and how it relates to you."

THE DREAM: I was a visitor in a friend's home.  The house looked familiar but was not my home. It was clean, attractive and of modest size.  We talked in the living room, and the kitchen as my friend moved back and forth between them.  A guest bedroom door was partially opened.  Unpacked suitcases and my coat were tossed casually on the bed.  We chatted as she worked in the house.  Even though we knew each other, uncomfortable feelings grew in me as we talked.  Unspoken questions formed in my mind, "How long must I remain a quest in her house? - When can I slip out for walk, a breath of fresh air, time alone, time to think, time to pray?"

As our conversations continued I listened to all the things she expected me to do while in her home.  The list was overwhelming.  She was oblivious to my distress.  I seldom got a chance to respond.  When she perceived possible resistance, she became "huffy", unsmiling, inflexible, controlling.  She dismissed  my suggestions that we take time to explore other activities, and not be consumed by regimented housekeeping and public demands on our time.

The dream ended at an impasse.  I woke up annoyed, disturbed, wanting to quickly forget this uncomfortable dream.  Then I heard Father God say, "Take another look, Evelyn.  Look closely at yourself and at the other woman in this dream."

OH, MY GOODNESS!  I saw again both women and heard their conversation.  What a startling discovery!  BOTH WOMEN LOOKED LIKE ME!  I was the visitor, but I was also the hostess.  Our faces, clothes, skin coloring, height and weight were identical!  Our focus on what is most important, was not.  "Lord, please, explain what I've seen.  He answered me, "MARTHA & MARY" - You felt sorry for Mary but Martha, she was a "pain" a misguided "Control freak".  Doesn't my Word say Jesus loved both Martha and Mary?   But adoring Mary who took time to sit at Jesus' feet, she choose the better part."

Is it time to choose?  To cut loose from our materialistic, frantic, demanding culture?  Will God's Word, Wisdom, Prophetic Dreams and Visions guide us?  Dare we let His intimate, personal care invade our busy lives?  Can we trust Him?  Do you realize that you are "a stranger and sojourner" here?  Can you glimpse Heaven's real home?  Are you resting under the shadow of His protective wings? (Psalm 91) or running around like Chicken Little yelling "The sky is falling!"  Can you be both a Mary and a Martha, but let Mary "call the shots?" and organize your visiting days in Martha's busy home? - Will you choose the better part?

 Don't copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God's will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect. Romans 12:2

The Captain Proposes

Appropriate for February 14th, Valentines Day! This is one of the chapters in the book I am writing  titled, "Immogene and the Captain". You may wonder why a chapter from my book is on a blog about dreams and visions.  Well it all got started with a dream the Lord had given to me.  I shared that dream on a previous blog entry, if you are interested please read below from the blog titled,  "Immogene and the Captain".  The book is about two older people who experience the miracle of falling in love. In this latest blog entry the love letter reveals the character of the Captain.

The Captain Proposes

Dear Immogene,

When my wife Jennie died, after many years of loving me, with our lives closer than two mates bunking together in a purser's cabin, - yet separated when my ship sailed to distant ports, I never expected to love again.  Who could take Jennie's place? No one, not ever!

But you, dear lady with the long silver braid down your back, scuffed blue house slippers, a cook with delicious smells emanating from your kitchen; a gentle, knowing smile on your face, the easy laughter, dare I say it?  My best friend, "I love you."

I love you without any guilt.  You have never usurped Jennie's memory,  Instead you created your own lovely dwelling place, a spot that remains to lighten my heart.  I don't know if you will agree and accept the love I offer you.  But know that whatever your answer is, you have defrosted the heart of this tough old sea captain who thought he didn't need or want any thing other than his faithful grizzled dog "Matey" and his troubling memories.

Dear friend, I may as well get right to it.  I want to marry you!  I want to spend our final years together. I know you're not getting any bargain, but my love is genuine, and backed by a desire to continue fixing your backyard fences, repairing sagging porch steps, and a promise to dry dishes and sweep the kitchen floor after you've cooked another of your splendid meals.

Immogene, I'm too old to sail anymore, but I can keep you entertained with sea stories.  We'll sing sea chanteys and hymns together as you play your piano.  I promise to get my battered guitar restrung if that pleases you.

Practically speaking we'll have enough money for both our needs.  I have some real gold pieces in my sea chest, and savings in the bank.  Besides, Immogene, your cat and my dog have become great friends.  They even eat out of the same dish and sleep together on Matey's cushion.  Isn't that a sign that we should call a preacher?

Hopefully, respectfully, I remain,

Captain Hiram Walker