Several years ago I had a dream that went into the This Is Important category. In the dream, an adobe, or clay city was crumbling and in its place, golden, shimmering temples were rising up, all by an unseen, but undeniably benevolent power.
All the buildings had fallen except one. It was a tall, lonely tower and there was a demon who lived deep in the cellar. I had to remove the demon before the structure could come down—that was my assignment.
I was terrified because the demon could show up and get in my face in the blink of an eye. I knew it couldn’t kill me; I knew prayer always defeated it, but I had to be diligent, and it was exhausting.
My General in Arms, who happened to be Christ, who also happened to be very muscular and dirty and sweaty like a real working man, was standing on a platform, being congenially in charge of it all. When he saw me he called me up to the platform and said he had something he wanted to show me.
He took me to one side and uncovered a shiny red wagon, the very thing I wanted more than anything in the world. He said it would be mine as soon as I finished my task.
I was happy, but I figured it would be a long time before I’d get to call it my own. I had no idea how to get rid of the demon; it was too powerful for me.
I woke up with memories of the dust rising around beautiful, golden temples.
I’ve thought about the dream a lot over the years. I think the clay city is my body or my family and community. The golden city is the spiritual body and family. It seems both out of reach and already mine, which makes no sense at all.
So, the weird thing is this: mom bought a red wagon for the back of the mower. A shiny red wagon now sits atop the black table that belonged to Nick. We are trying to put it together.
I’ve never told mom about the dream. I just keep looking at it wondering why a red wagon and why now? Is this the red wagon? Does this mean the demon is taken care of? I thought I’d feel a lot better when demon was out.
Somehow I just don’t know if demon is gone, but I must have gained some kind of muscle over it. Why am I getting the wagon, now? I don’t deserve it.
I don’t deserve it but I will use it for good. I’ll haul wood and carry stuff to the barn and back. I’ll do whatever I can to help.
It IS pretty. I could fill it with wild flowers…