And then there are other dreams.
Yeah, I know I just said I couldn't sleep for the terrors in the night, but those are my brain vomiting out what has poisoned it, the daily housekeeping of the mind that I might live. Thankfully, there is a sleep just before the alarm sounds that is both the deepest and the most interesting, usually with dreams I wish I could record in every dimension. I can't count the number of times I've had ones that were just peculiar until I described them to myself, and then translating them from images to words made everything sensible, like the one where the guy broke off from doing something and went over to pick up the telephone. He was just "phoning it in." Get it? Oh, well...
So, anyway, yesterday morning I had a very cool one, the last bit is the only part I still remember today, although the whole thing was good. There were maybe about 15 women sitting around talking casually about their lives and the things of God, all to one another, and I suspect they were all parts of me even though they were very different in appearance and natures. A young woman perched on the chesterfield turned to me and asked, "So how do you keep your 'verve' ?" I can still see her lively concern, speaking with her hands, trying to stir the word up into the very air. And I answered her, "You have to pray in tongues every day."
And about there I woke up.
The Lord has been talking to me about this for years, but I just couldn't "get it." Oh, I received the baptism of the Holy Spirit WITH the evidence of speaking in tongues about twenty years ago (yikes! that long ago?!), but I never could quite grasp the recommendation many of my teachers in the faith have made to pray in tongues every day for no other reason than just to edify myself. (I Cor 14:4, Jude 20) It just seemed a bit abusive, or perhaps turning the gift into a rote parlour trick. I just didn't have a handle on that aspect of it yet. But since I had that dream, I understand it and I understand why I need it.
I'll let you know one day how it turns out for me.
Until then, I can still recommend by experience my usual Saturday morning habit, which is to crank up the music and worship God while I clean house. Usually there's more worship than house cleaning, but that's just because it restores my soul worn ragged with a week of work in an unhappy world and the house can wait! I sat down here to fire off only a word about how sweet it is to spend the morning in love with God, but as you can see, I've gone much longer and rather further afield than I had planned. Just the same, here's a link to a great worship song (Gary Sadler, Rock of Refuge) that kept the terrors of real life from overwhelming me one long dark night a few years ago, and a video of another one below. (John Chisum, Only Your Mercy)
There's no one like Him, no one anywhere. Seek Him. He's waiting eagerly to be found. This post needs a full rewrite and a photo, but I can't stay away from Him any longer.