aSunday morning I woke up thinking about the dream I had just had.
Picture this.
A ballpark
Full of people and noise and hot dogs and nachos and bats and balls and bases.
"Batter up!!"
It was me.
I was the batter at the plate.
The bat in my hands held high above my shoulders.
The ball coming at me.
FAST
I wasnt ready.
What if I missed it?
What if I hit it, but it just hops right out there only to be snagged up, and Im thrown out.
"HOLD ON, WAIT"
No waiting.
The ball is screaming towards me.
I wasnt ready.
So I let the ball go by me.
There was only one problem.
Behind me ---
there were people. Lots of people. If I didnt hit the ball, then someone was going to be harmed by that ball that was speeding towards them.
I needed to hit it.
But I wasnt ready.
So I just tensed every ounce of me up. I squeezed my eyes shut. I tightened my grip on the bat. I knew someone behind me was about to get hurt because I let the ball get by me.
I woke up then.
Thinking I hated dumb meaningless dreams. About sports no less...
I got up, got ready for church, and went on with my morning.
Then right there in the middle of Praise Band practice, while I was stepping back for Calley to practice a song she was going to lead, God seemed to say,
"What about that dream?"
-Yea, I hate meaningless silly dreams-
"Meaningless? Or No?"
-Well what then Lord? What in the world would this mean?-
And He laid it all out, right there.
"Youre up to the plate. You are prepared. Go on hit the ball. Dont worry about where it will land. I'll take care of that. If you let the pitch go by---
Someone will be HURT.
Youre at bat.
Youre prepared.
Theres a crowd.
Youre in the game.
The pitch is coming.
Dont let it get by you.
Swing the bat."
Theres this thing God has for us to do. He has prepared us for it. He has placed us where we need to be. Whatever it is, is right there coming toward us.
What are we going to do.
Just stand there?
Think of all the ways it could go wrong?
No, give it your best shot.
Let God take care of the results.
I love when dreams have meaning.
