Still, Small Voice

Yesterday, Niamhy and I went out for a walk at dusk. I love walking at that time of day…everyone’s at home, they’ve had their dinner and they’re all cozy on their sofas, the streets are quiet. Most cars have their headlights on, even though it’s not really dark yet…somehow that’s comforting to me. This is my favorite time to go out.

We don’t really have a walking route, we just sort of meander wherever our (well, “my”) whim takes us. Last night that was a few loops in my favorite parts of our own neighborhood, then to the freshly paved trail that winds lazily around the little pond off of Silver Lake Road. That trail reminds me of one I used to like to bike on when I was in high school. Then we took a turn down Silver Lake Road and out to Hwy. 14 for a jaunt toward downtown Cary. We walked a while in that direction, then turned around in a dentist’s parking lot and headed back.

As we were walking, I was praying, thinking, sighing, humming…my thoughts and feelings flitting back and forth between sadness and joy, contentment and uneasiness. This caused me to pray all the more fervently as I walked along, pushing my wide-eyed, curious passenger in her cozy little taxi cab. When we passed someone, I would smile and nod or offer a “Hello”, Niamh occasionally adding an “Ayyye!” (her “hi”) But then it was right back to my thoughts…then pushing myself consciously back into prayer, rather than the self-contained, solution-less thoughts that so persistently tried to dominate.

Then as I walked and thought and prayed, something arrested me. I kept walking…never missed a beat, really, but inside something clicked. I was looking up into the beautiful dusky sky and breathing in the increasingly-cooler-now evening air, when my eye was drawn to the power lines above my head. Those old, fat lines that streak in great bundles across the sky from giant pole to giant pole, crossing the street, splitting tree branch from tree, and rounding the corner to continue to God-knows-where.

And my mind flashed back: I had a dream once, that is still far-and-away the most vivid, amazingly real and beautiful dream I have ever had. I used to hear about people having dreams of flying, and I prayed “God, I would LOVE to have a dream of flying. So how ’bout it?” Then one night it happened.

In my dream I was an eagle. But for some reason, I wasn’t perched on a cliff, I was on the ground. I knew I had to get a lot higher, so I took off and started flying upward. As I flew, I came across these criss-crossed power lines (just like the ones I was looking at last night) that were blocking my further upward progress…limiting me to a certain level. I flew around and around, looking for a hole; and when I found one, I flew up through it into a wider, free-er space than I’d occupied below. This happened over and over again: more power lines, finding the hole and taking it, wider space…probably 10 or more times. Finally I flew up through one set of power lines and burst through the clouds. It was clear now that they had been the last barrier. Now, when I looked down, I suddenly saw that I was flying over a beautiful, unbelievably tall waterfall and into a green valley. The only way I can express how I felt when I saw this is that it felt like home.

This was such a God-dream, and I knew it was of great spiritual significance to me.

So…back to last night. When I saw those power lines, God brought me back to this dream. The power lines represent obstacles in life, things I need to overcome in order to come into a place of more freedom. I only realized last night as I was going through the symbolism of my dream in my mind that it’s very significant that they were POWER lines and not, like, nets or bars or something. These are things that only have power over me as long as I do not see myself as who I really am and cannot find a way to break through them. They do have a real and tangible power; and if you mess with them, you will get hurt…badly. But there’s always a way through.

God’s still, small voice, whispering Love to my heart at a time when I need it most. He just has a way of doing that with me. I can get all hysterical and frustrated and angry, but when I least expect it…when I’m just quiet and contemplative and allowing entrance, He shows me things. Things that are beyond me…things that quiet my mind and calm my spirit, because they renew my hope and fortify my faith. So I had this peace come on me…that even in the craziest of circumstances, I know my God. And there’s a reason they call Him “Rock.”

(Our dreams for our lives are like seed. They do nothing sitting on the table year after year after year. So we think they’re dead, and we bury them. And the rains come. And the seasons change. Still they’re buried, in our minds. Then one day, without warning, they begin to spring up with life and grow, and nothing can stop them.)

Nothing can stop them.


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