Did you ever dream a dream that felt life changing while you were asleep, but by morning it seemed irretrievably forgotten? Well, recently I remembered a dream that I had many years ago. I dreamed of two men with chainsaws, trimming an almost limbless tree that had grown curiously into a rather large arch. The two were perched high on the horizontal trunk of the tree at the top of the arch. As one of them moved from limb to limb, he would stand erect, with arms extended, walking “tightrope” style toward the next limb. As he toddled forward, I could hear his chainsaw idling roughly, as he laughed and conversed loudly with his fellow acrobat. Both men seemed oblivious to any impending danger. I watched in awe, impressed by their brazen disdain for the terror that could at any moment overtake them. …and then, my dream quickly evolved into a nightmare. That voice, so high above my head, seemed familiar; I strained to see their faces. Could it be …yes, it is, …it is my son! No longer could I be a spectator. With a jerk, I started toward the base of the tree, my mind racing in search of a plan to secure the safety of my beloved son. And then I woke up, wet with sweat, and in the same panic that had interrupted my dream.
As I lay on my bed in the dark of night rehearsing the terrible scene that had been my focus just seconds before, the question came to me. Why had I panicked for the men’s safety only after I had realized that one of them was my son? I had admired their daring until I understood that if something happened to them, their loss would be my own. For several minutes in the night, and then in the morning hours of a new day, I realized that my dream was in fact a reality in my life. No, my son was not in a tree at that moment, but there I stood gazing at a world that lives at the slippery brink of eternity with no thought of the impending terror that awaits those who do not know Christ. How could I be so thoughtless? Do they matter so little to me?
O Lord, help me to see the loss of their souls as You do.