The detritus of my conscious day emerged in a disturbing,
confused and very vivid dream, culminating in a threatening phone call. In the
dream, I concluded this call was devilish itself and commanded that the caller ‘Go!
In the name of Jesus!’
Not the first time I’ve had such a dream. But this time,
after demanding that the caller Go!, I was awoken by the very real sound, I
thought, of tinkling glass. Poor Don. Sound asleep, until I shook him urgently
saying, ‘Someone’s breaking in! I heard glass breaking!’
We crept about the dark house and found no sign of intruders
or, indeed, broken glass. Such is the reality of some dreams.
Sitting in the prayer window on this glorious morning,
watching the mist disappear, and the pheasants parade, I suddenly was aware of
the fly spots on the dirty pane. Life flicks fly spots on our perspectives, and
our inner vision can be drawn to staring at the fly spots rather than seeing
beyond to the beauty of Jesus, the beauty of the life we have been given so
graciously, so generously. My dream earlier this morning focused on the fly
spots, a hodgepodge of stuff that can suck the joy out of the day (or night).
So this morning I am saying to those fly spots, those nasty
voices whispering lies and slanders, ‘Go! In the name of Jesus!’
Not hearing any more breaking glass so far, but my aim today
is to focus my eyes on Jesus. Yeshua. Another word for Victory, I just read.
He is our Victory.
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