You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘vision’ tag.

Children’s sleighbell dreams dissolved from their slumber last night. Sugarplum visions faded before bedtime. A cacophony of wishes  from young lips and old circled the globe this season. The fortunate celebrated their satisfaction, while others clutched the pangs of unfulfillment on their way to bed. Seasonal anticipation shrivels with a turn of the calendar page. Other longings persist with little regard for date.

Wants and needs often construct dream content, the connection increasing during seasons insisting we expect happiness. Good dreams offer us the gifts and sustenance we desire or the restoration for which we thirst. Nightmares exchange hope for the peril we most fear.

The heart’s desire knits patterns for a common REM cycle, but wilder dreams exist. Not every notion grows from within. A dream beyond common notions strikes new vision into the sleeper. An unforeseen epiphany dawns upon the chosen one. Such a dream does not fade at a new calendar page. The refreshed dreamer rises with a passionate desire to obey the Lord’s call.

Before we tuck away the early chapters of Matthew and Luke with our Christmas decor, notice the divine messages offered in dreams. Scripture does not bother to mention ordinary notions entertained in slumber. Ancient folks longed for satisfaction, perhaps more than the average modern sleeper. Though we might relate to their dreams of want and need, the Bible omits the common content and cites the extraordinary dreams instead.

Beyond imagination, the Lord pressed His lips into minds and spoke through dreams. The Old Testament visions appeared centuries apart, but a heavy concentration of divine dreams occur as Jesus sets foot on the earth. God encouraged Joseph to wed Mary in a dream. The Magi received warning of Herod’s plot in a dream. The Lord spoke to Joseph again, urging him to rise from bed and flee to Egypt during the night. Unlike the visionaries of the Old Testament, the Lord inhabited the dreams of ordinary Gentiles and an impoverished tradesman. With the advent of Christ’s birth, the Lord established His plan to draw all of us near to His Word.

As Christmas Day settles behind us, the time of dreaming about a new year approaches. Common notions of resolution and wishes will fill the air until a strong wind gusts them away with the calendar pages. We can choose to dream of our own desires, as is customary, or listen for God’s voice. We can seek His purpose in waking hours, whether He visits our slumbering thoughts or not. Christ offers His presence within us at all times of day and night, every day of the year. He constructs a new way of thinking. Regardless of our material circumstances–whether fortunate or unfortunate by the world’s standards–He configures us with an identity of hope that revitalizes and exceeds life.

Will you choose to dream beyond common notions this year?

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” — Romans 12:2

Clouds prowl across the earth in bands, shrouding light. The air thickens. Chill bumps prickle through the vegetation. Nature’s breath condenses and fog rolls across my path. In a storm’s shadow, my vision falters. 

I strain my eyes to discern the next small step forward. Focus becomes a challenge when the horizon vanishes. The plunge in barometric pressure burdens my senses. The energy drains from my pores and vanishes into the eerie mist.

Lost. Wandering. Surviving one step at a time in no particular direction.

Metaphysical thunderheads mar my view of the path. My rare glimpse at the objective faded into memory. I can only see a few paces of roadway at best. Often, my feet disappear in a dense mist of temporal distractions.

Once upon a time, I sprang into life wearing a goal-oriented headlamp and type A hiking boots. I never asked for directions, and drew my own maps. 

Then the storms came. 

My batteries died. Maps don’t work when you can’t see the heavens. Hiking boots wear blisters into tender feet. Especially when you refuse directions.

I laid down my goal-orientation and type-A-ness, which had grown quite heavy. Meandering in the fog steamed the pride-wax out of my ears so I could better hear the directions.

Turns out, I didn’t need to see my way after all. The One Who Sees offered to direct my path. My maps would never have guided me to the best destinations, because I lacked divine perspective. God’s view outstretches my best line of sight. Only He beholds all things in perfect clarity. 

I still can’t see where I’m going most of the time, but I can trust the One Who does. Vision must come from faith, and the spirit has no need to gawk at what’s ahead. The clear view is up.

“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1).


Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,274 other followers