Alpine Dream

 

Photo by Dana Hutchinson 2017

I once dreamed that my mother, husband and I were at an Alpine resort in springtime. Stretching out behind the cozy Swiss chalet was a beautiful vista of snow-capped, bluish-gray mountain peaks encircling a lovely green meadow, dotted with wildflowers in bold shades of yellow, red and violet-blue.

The guide at the resort suggested that we follow a parcourse that was challenging yet would lead to an even more inviting view. The first part of this was a platform resembling a flattened-out metal jungle gym suspended several feet off the ground, made of metal bars about 1 inch thick and outlining rectangular structures of differing sizes and uneven placement, without apparent pattern.  It was partially covered over with an opaque tarp that blocked vision of where the bars were. The tarp would crumple if stepped on between the bars, so that the person walking there would lose their footing and fall through to the ground.

The others decided against it, but I ventured forth, figuring that I could use my free foot to discern where the bars were and trace a safe path. But it proved to be much more difficult than it appeared, and I was in great danger of falling. Thankfully, the guide took pity on me, walking alongside the structure and holding my hand. Despite my numerous missteps, he steadied me sufficiently so that I made it across to the other side.

The next challenge was a long, steep, metal ladder, leading downward to an unknown destination. The guide advised me to descend it backing the ladder, despite the awkwardness and unfamiliarity of that position, so that I could see where I was going rather than where I had been. As I started down the rungs, a chilling wind blew across me, and I wished I had worn a coat. Instead, I was wearing a very long, woolen scarf, which was now more of a nuisance as it whipped against my body and face, often blinding me momentarily.

Finally I had reached the final rung and was surprised and delighted at the peace and solitude within that valley. I sat down on the lush grass and enjoyed the birds singing and darting among the shrubs and bushes. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted what appeared to be a tiny ballerina whirling through the air. I caught it and discovered that it was a delicate white flower, fashioned from what looked like Queen Anne’s lace or cauliflower fronds cut in paper-thin sections. The intricate detail in the dancer’s face, arms, hands, legs, pointed toes and tutu were an amazing testimony to God’s handiwork.

I gently tossed the ballerina into the air, and she began pirouetting on a gentle breeze and then softly spiraled to earth, spreading out like an ostrich plume on a velvety patch of dusky green moss near my feet. A little boy approached me in wide-eyed wonder as he eagerly showed me the treasure he was carrying. It looked like a miniature drone but was actually a bee-like insect, its wings constantly whirring and its multifaceted eyes turning in every direction.  

As the sun slowly began to set, I realized this glorious day was slipping away, and it was already growing colder. The ladder was no longer visible, and I didn’t know how to get back to the lodge. I wandered off and was surprised to see a large group of children, dressed only in shorts and swimsuits, laughing and playing in a pond.

“Aren’t they cold?” I asked a stranger standing near me.

“No, it’s a hot spring,” she explained.

As I awoke and began to consider the symbolism of the dream, I wondered if it could be a metaphor describing our journey through life once we are saved (Acts 2:21; 4:12) by trusting in the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:1-4) as the only Way (John 14:6) to Heaven. At the moment of salvation we are elevated to heavenly places in Him (Ephesians 1:3; 2:6), visualized in the dream as a beautiful, serene meadow enclosed by the mountain peaks and inspiration of His greatness.

But we are not meant to linger there, but to embark on a spiritual journey that will progressively shape us into His image (Philippians 3:10). It is not an easy upward stroll, for the path often takes twists, turns, and even sharp descents. Yet these challenges (2 Corinthians 11:23-33), symbolized by the parcourse in the dream, strengthen us and improve our spiritual fitness.

We are constantly in danger of falling, for we cannot see where the path leads or the obstacles threatening us, like the tarp obscuring the view of where I could safely step on the metal bars. Our own feet are unreliable to direct our path, but we will progress when we are holding onto the hand of our Guide (Proverbs 3:5-6). May we remember that He is holding and protecting us in the hollow of His hand, which is held tightly in the hand of the Father (John 10:27-29), and sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise (2 Corinthians 1:22; Ephesians 1:13; 4:30). Nothing can separate us from His love!

Often we feel unprepared for the journey, having neglected to equip ourselves with needed gear, like a coat when climbing on chilly slopes. Choices we made, perhaps favoring fashion over practicality, as in the case of my overly long scarf, or worldly rather than spiritual priorities (James 4:4), may return to haunt us. In our Christian walk, we are far more effective when we put on the whole armor of God, preferably before rising each morning! We cannot reach Heaven on our merit, but only when robed in the righteousness of Jesus Christ.

Climbing down the ladder while facing outward reminded me that we are not to look back, dwelling on the evil or guilt over where we have been (1 Corinthians 6:9-11; Philippians 3:13). Instead, we are to ask forgiveness (1 John 1:9) and focus on where He is taking us, even if that seems to be downward. Like the apostle Paul, we can learn to be content in whatever state we are in, whether humbled and brought low, or abounding in spiritual victory and material blessings (Philippians 4:12).

Especially as we age, our life journey may sometimes seem to be headed downward into depths of infirmity (2 Corinthians 12:7); trouble; and loss of loved ones, abilities, material provision, and dreams (Job 1:21). But Jesus Christ is the God of the valleys as well as the God of the mountains, and He will not desert us there. He is the Lily of the valleys (Song of Solomon 2:1), which are filled with reminders of His beauty, power, majesty, and compassion.

When we hit bottom, we are more receptive to His mercy, grace and love. We need not fear, for He will even guide us through the valley of the shadow of death, comforting us, providing for us, giving us peace, restoring our soul, and leading us in the paths of righteousness (Psalm 23). He is truly our Great Shepherd Who provides the green pastures and still waters.

God speaks to His children primarily through His Word (Psalm 119), but also through others (Proverbs 27:17), through life circumstances, and through the beauty of His creation (Psalm 19:1; Romans 1:20). Often His love letters written in nature are unique for each of us, speaking to our heart in a particularly meaningful way, like an image of Christ in the clouds, treasures on the beach bearing special reminders, and even the crucifixion and ascension intricately carved into the skull of a catfish!

I had this dream a few nights before a performance for our dance ministry, when I had become discouraged over rehearsals not going as well as we had hoped. It is fitting that in the dream God sent me a reminder in the shape of a tiny ballerina, as if to say, “I can shape even a flower into a beautiful dancer expressing My glory, so why would I not do the same for you, My child?”

Lack of energy and spiritual vision had recently also become a concern, and the endless energy and multisided vision of the insect in the dream reassured me that God would supply these needs as well, and all our needs according to His riches in glory (Ephesians 1:7; 3:16; Philippians 4:19).

The playful children in the dream had no need to fear the cold, for they were basking in a hot spring. When we are growing old and cold, Christ’s inner spring within us can restore us to youth and fresh fire (Exodus 24:17; 40:38; 2 Chronicles 7:1). May even our later years be filled with childlike faith (Matthew 18:3-4), fountains of Living Water (Song of Solomon 4:15; Jeremiah 2:13; 7:13), and the passion of being on fire for the Lord! 

May we abound in service and good works as His ambassadors (2 Corinthians 5:20) and fellow workers (1 Corinthians 3:9), not growing weary (Galatians 6:9; 1 Corinthians 15:57-58), for in due time He will show us the fruit of our labor!

© 2019 Laurie Collett

Edited and reposted from the archives

View of the Summit

Photo by SRWvong 2019

I had a dream that my family and I were staying in a resort in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. The hotel was at the foot of a majestic snow-capped mountain, and the grounds, buildings and roads were adrift in snow. Our family had planned to go on a hike up the mountain that afternoon, weather permitting, but we were reluctant to leave the warmth of the castle-like fortress and venture out on the trails.

In the meantime, I looked out the window and spotted an inviting hot tub, fed by a natural spring. Steam arose from the surface even as snow covered the shrubs and statuary surrounding it. The hot tub could be reached from an indoor swimming pool, so that the bather would never have to venture outside until they were submersed under the soothing jets.

Best of all, the location of the hot tub afforded a glorious view of the summit. As my family was still undecided about whether to go hiking, I was tempted to slip away for a comfortable soak that I was sure would dissolve all the tensions of travel.

But then I realized that the hot tub was near the street where tour buses were constantly arriving and departing, dropping off and picking up loads of people. Not only would there not be any privacy, but the fumes from the buses would be disturbing, and the large vehicles would mostly block the view of the mountain peak.

As I awoke and considered the symbolism of the dream, it reminded me of what we as born-again Christians (John 3:3-8) are to do once we are saved by trusting in the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:1-4) as the only Way to Heaven (John 14:6). At that moment we know that Heaven, symbolized by the mountain peak gleaming in the sun, will be our eternal home.

But God did not save us just so that we would be guaranteed eternity in heaven rather than in hell, which is the final destination for all who have not trusted in the atoning sacrifice of His Son, as all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23). If that were His only purpose, He would take us home at the moment of our salvation.

Instead, He wants us to embark on the spiritual journey of progressive sanctification. Once we are saved by His grace, we are to begin climbing up the mountain, not so that we can saved by our good works, but rather to accomplish the specific purpose He had planned for each us since before the beginning of time (Ephesians 2:8-10; 1:5,11; Romans 8:29-30; Jeremiah 29:11). That purpose includes good works to serve Him (James 2:17-26), to witness to others so that they can be brought into His Kingdom (2 Corinthians 5:18), and to encourage fellow believers (Romans 14:19; Ephesians 4:12,16).

In the dream, that journey was represented by the plan to hike up the mountain. Climbing it would mean leaving the place of comfort, warmth, and security, facing the cold, expending energy, struggling at times, following hairpin turns that might even lead downward, and facing dangerous conditions (Psalm 23). Yet these trials are part of our journey, for they strengthen our faith, give us wisdom and experience to counsel others going through similar trials (1 Peter 4:12; Romans 5:3-5), and shape us into the image of Jesus Christ (Philippians 3:10).

Once we are saved and the Holy Spirit enters our hearts (2 Corinthians 1:22; Ephesians 1:13; 4:30), we experience His presence like a bubbling spring. The Comforter (John 14:16) warms us from within, stirring up currents of joy, hope and peace as we contemplate our eternal destiny in glorified bodies (1 Corinthians 15:35-58) living in that fair city paved with gold (Revelation 21)  where Jesus Christ is building mansions for each of us (John 14:1-4).

These feelings are a wonderful blessing and gift from God, and sometimes are best enjoyed by just resting in His presence. But we must be careful not to let them overwhelm us by becoming “so heavenly-minded that we are no earthly good,” as the saying goes. Many Christians, once saved, are content merely to know that they no longer have to worry about going to hell, and that they can just sit on the pew and soak up love and God’s Word emanating from the body of Christ.

The Great Commission given by Jesus to His disciples was to go, teach and baptize others of all nations (Matthew 28:18-20), not to sit and bask in spiritual complacency. We are not to stay in the hot tub, where we could risk lethargy and overheating, but to start climbing up the mountain, following His lead. We know He will never leave us nor forsake us on that journey (Hebrews 13:5), that He will safely guide us through all the hazards, and that He will provide us with beautiful vistas and rest stops along the way (Psalm 23), in His perfect timing.

The tour buses in the dream I believe may represent souls coming to the earth, and intersecting with our mortal lives, by physical birth, and leaving by physical death. How could we rest comfortably, simply enjoying the peace of knowing we are saved, when we see souls stepping out into eternity every day, many if not most of whom are headed straight for hell? The fumes in the dream may be the whiff of brimstone warning us of what awaits those who have not trusted Christ (Psalm 11:6; Revelation 21:8).

The Holy Spirit kindles a fire within our hearts with a passion for lost souls. While we are on this earth, our time is so short (Job 14:1; James 4:14), and there are so many opportunities to witness so that souls will be led to our precious Lord Jesus (John 4:35). May we not be slothful or self-serving, but fervent in our Lord’s business (Romans 12:11), until He comes again! 

© 2019 Laurie Collett