"I believe it, now (after reading the first pages of Madeleine L'engle's Walking on Water), to be no coincidence that I find my path, as a writer, crossed by the best lyrics when I am driving or showering. At first, I thought it to be God's sense of humor. But could it be, that those are the times when I am most still? I am then alone, and usually worried about nothing. Steamy water on my neck or the rhythm of the engine on a long raod gently nudge my consciousness into a nonchalant listening. I am certainly, in these two solitary environments, least worried about what people think of me."
A couple weeks ago, I had a great night of praying and studying. I say great, but perhaps what I mean is diligent. Any time that I spend listening to and depending on Christ for all is time well spent, no matter my gauge of it. But I awoke the next morning after having three dreams in which my attitude was summed up in ruthlessness. I was simply uncaring and visibly selfish to an astonishing degree. I only remember the details of one, but I remember the feeling, and I remember waking up and refusing to go back to sleep.
Few things are as frightening as confrontation with the realization of one's own sinful potential. I started awake, horrified and unconsolable. I can only hope and pray that it was merely God's hand driving me back to him, lest I should become so confident in my 'success' the previous day. Spiritually, that's what it felt like, but it was still.....ugly. My own Dorian Gray portrait. I still find great comfort and joy in God's continued direction and intervention in my life (and I was never promised convenience).
"Sweet dreams are made of this. Who am I do disagree?"