The dream was one of those you can’t seem to get out of, even though you realize it’s probably a dream.
I sat next to two of my kids on an airplane, and as I looked out the window, I could see we were going to land in an industrial part of the airport, not a runway. This meant that we would be hitting various buildings and vehicles upon landing and that we’d most likely crash. But the flight attendants seems unperturbed, and no announcement came from the cockpit.
Panicked, I told my kids to buckle up and assume crash position.
We did land very bumpily in the middle of this industrial area, and the flight attendants said the same things they always say about contents shifting upon flight and please check your seat so you don’t forget anything important.
Instead of leaving via a terminal gate, a makeshift stairway had been pushed up to the plane (in the middle of the industrial mess). We walked up, zigzagged through random corridors, until we found a strange airport terminal.
I tried to talk to an official about my astonishment. “Um, yeah, we almost crashed, but no one warned us, and no one seems to act like it even matters. What gives?”
The official just gave me a bemused look and stamped some sort of form and pushed me through the line.
I finally woke up and couldn’t shake the dream.
Why? Because there are times I feel like the “me” in the freaky industrial aircraft dream. I see things, dangers, issues, problems. I try to warn folks, but they can’t see. They live blissfully unaware lives of the dangers that loom directly in front of them.
It’s not that I fancy myself a prophetess, nor do I run around crying wolf. But there are times God shows me urgency. I have a feeling you’ve felt this way at some point too. It’s a strange place to be. And while I don’t feel this way at the present moment, and can’t think of any dangers looming ahead for my family or friends, I do remember a time years ago when I could clearly see an issue in the church I attended. And God clearly told me to address it.
Boy howdy was that a lonely time. And the inevitable crash wasn’t prevented. In fact, it seemed to worsen. But I did feel a kinship with Jesus in the midst of it all. And I had a quiet knowing that I did what He asked.
All that to say, sometimes folks won’t listen. And sometimes you obey and things don’t work out the way you’d like. But the joy in it all isn’t the seeing in the first place, or being right. It’s holding on to the savior’s hand through it all.
When have you seen something that others haven’t seen? What happened?