Dreams and Desires

A bit of a musing on what a character of mine--or possibly, I--experience when thinking about desires, doubts, and fantasies.

If our fantasy could be our reality, would that be our fantasy still? Or what if we made our reality our fantasy? Dreaming is fun. It's funny how powerful we make ourselves out to be, when we really aren't at all. God is above all of us--let us treat Him, and ourselves, as such. Let's slay this pride and let our dreams merge with reality. You dream of color? Smell it. Touch it. Breath it. Bring God into it, for that's where He belongs.

I dream of rain, of a whispering mist. I climb through it and make little discoveries with unweighted importances. I kiss the shivering snow and hug the strong bark of an oak. I climb a tree and laugh with my friends. It's warmly chilly, the watery air resting lightly on our skin. I'm barefoot, and the puddles feel nice, like unfinished promises and happy hope. I see a lighthouse, and I gaze out upon waters and castles while we pretend to make the abandoned come alive.

I dream of nectar. Sweet, sweet nectars of all kinds--mangos, pomegranate, flowery flavors. The exotic surrounds me, and I revel in how little I need. I am aware of what I love--God in my center, and because of that, there is no fear. The nectars are so sweet, and they chill my throat and lips. I sit and watch the stars, slightly distracted by the fires around me. It is warm and cozy, and the shimmering of the threaded colors on the blankets and pillows are welcoming. The dark stained wood is smooth to the gaze and I smile and join in on the board game nestled between the folds of the people.

I dream of the dogs. They are intimidating and strong; they are wolves. Or maybe they are lions, sometimes it changes. Either way, they accept my humility and treat me as their loving friend and master. They are still a bit detached and mysterious, but they slowly grow closer to me. Their fur is soft and they lick my face when I laugh. They hide a secret kindness. A closer definition would be family. A secret innocence and childish playfulness. They teach me life lessons, but these lessons slowly dawn on me over time. It smells of pine outside the warm caves they visit me in. Sometimes, they join me and a friend as we dig deeper in the cave, looking for answers to vague questions. A simple response to a call of wondering curiosity. A quest for knowledge--pressure-less.

I dream of the city rooftops. We have the capacity to make a difference, but we are only herbivores--unwilling to eat the lives of others. I nearly taste the raw metals around me, and the stars surprisingly are bright tonight. We start in on our trek to discover and enlighten others, while we also enjoy delightful debate in the public square. We muse on the population and discover we cannot be the backbone of it, but instead are the voices of a bigger power. So we form a group and tease the ins and outs of society without embracing selfishness. The pounding of our hearts and the smacking of the pavement pauses now and then as we soar and manipulate ourselves in strong balance. The flow of energy and fun.

And I do dream of color. I dream of gray and navy, of butter and poppy, of forest green and amber, of rust and lemon.

My mind takes me places. It runs and hides and is very good at exasperating me with it's annoying behavior of such. Yet it hosts imagination and dreams. Some more fantastical than others. But what I dream of is life. I dream of life and my mind plays a game of locking it up and dwelling on it like a chained animal. It tries to control it and feed it what it wants, not allowing the Lord to foster and care for it. My mind is selfish and fleshly, and wants my imagination to be reality. But God is not a fantasy. God is reality and waits for me to relax in His presence as He opens the floodgates--to let my reality be my fantasy.

I dream of letting go of my dreams to let them take flight. Why worry about them and control them when I can live now and in reality? My dreams and reality can be one. And it starts with giving them to God.

Author's Note

Can you relate to these thoughts?