Field of Dreams

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Fertile fieldsI believe God speaks to us in dreams.

I dream quite a bit. Perhaps I’ve reached that old man stage where I’ve lapsed from visions into dreams, as in the Book of Joel.

In a dream I had the night after receiving distressing news, I heard sounds outside my home. I got out of bed and walked into the pre-dawn, only to witness a multitude of people scurrying around our property, digging a well, plowing fields, and working the land. Some faces I recognized, but others remained lost to me. I barely recognized our land. It seemed to me as if the workers had expanded the borders, tripling the amount of land we owned.

Amazed, I walked over to a person I recognized and asked, “What are you doing?”

He replied, “We’re helping you plant.”

That’s a dream too good to ignore.

Living Water

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Rain in abundance, O God, you shed abroad; you restored your inheritance as it languished…
—Psalms 68:9

It rained—finally. Started last night a bit before midnight. Got about an hour’s worth.  Then a veritable downpour today from 4:30 to 5:15, before returning from 6:30 till 8:00.

One of the ways we live faith-impoverished lives comes from our lack of connection to the land. I get criticized for saying this, but I think the fact that most Christians have no direct connection to the food they eat allows us to skate by on less faith. You go to Kroger, Safeway, Whole Foods, Wal-Mart or wherever and it’s just there, ready to go.

In most places in the world, though, it doesn’t work that way. You eat what you farm. For that reason, farmers need real faith. If God doesn’t open up the skies from time to time, doesn’t halt the locust, doesn’t increase calving, doesn’t bless the land…well, you’re done for.

I’d be lying if I said we grew all our own food. But that’s where we wish to be some day—at least enough to keep us alive. Our orchard can’t compare with some thousand acre tract of Washington State apples, but it’ll do. Some day we’ll get our wine grapes in. Plus, we’re expanding our vegetable and herb gardens. We collect all the black raspberries and blackberries off our property, too. The wife keeps pressing me for chickens. She mentioned cows and that’s when the head started spinning—too much, too much!

I love the black raspberries, but they dessicated on the cane this year. Or they were hard, tasteless nothings. Why? No rain.

Without rain, nothing works. I haven’t mowed my grass in three weeks. Only the plantains grow. The grass goes brown and crunches beneath your feet like rice krispies. The ground cracks and threatens to swallow you à la Koreh. If you’re a real farmer and you survey your wilted fields, the desperation oozes out of your heart, etching lines into your brow.

But the rains came. The clouds disgorged the lifeblood of your land. How can you not be thankful? How can you not drop down on your knees, press your lips to the wet earth and say, “Oh, dear God, thank you! Thank you!”

Some people live in their own parched fields, unseen land, the habitation of the soul. And they are dry to the point of blowing away in a meager wind. You can see the dust devils sucking up their life and hurling it far away. Who will bring life-giving water?

You can.

You see, you, my friend, are a fount of Living Water. What flows out of you can restore the driest desert. rain_green.jpgWhat God asks of His simple clay vessels, each filled with Living Water, is to be poured out. If we’re in touch with the Spirit, we need not fear emptying, for He will fill us. But it is not so for those who don’t know Him. Nor is it always true for all Christians, for many are so very dry because they’ve lost connection and drifted off into desolate places.

What good comes from holding back that living water? None. Only when we pour it out does it restore the parched.

Are we properly stewarding God’s Living Water?

Don’t be afraid to be poured out if you instill life in others. It’s your purpose this side of heaven.

A Letter to Rich, the Young Ruler

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Dear Rich,

What a pleasant surprise to receive a letter from you! Your previous letter said you’d been working 60 hours a week to get the promotion you wanted, and now I read that you’ve received it. Looks like your hard work has paid off. You certainly are living the American Dream!

Congratulations, too, on your new five-bedroom home and your new Porsche Cayenne. I’m sure your wife and kids are deliriously happy with both. Thanks also for the pictures from your recent vacation to St. Kitts. My, the twins sure have grown.

I read the printout you enclosed of the blog article written by the CEO of Thomas Nelson Publishers. You agree with his contention that there’s no compelling reason to buy an Apple iPhone. That’s probably a wise decision.

In reading that article, though, I find his reasons for not buying an iPhone intriguing. Most of the reasons he cited were technological. I, for one, think a far better reason to avoid it exists.

In our previous correspondence, we’ve gone back and forth on Jesus and what it means to be a Christian. I know you are quite a spiritual person, a “seeker” as you say, but I believe being spiritual and religious doesn’t go far enough.

So, Rich, I’d like to consider a word you don’t hear much today: profligate. That’s a word I would have liked to have seen mentioned in the article from the Thomas Nelson CEO, but even companies that deal with words shy away from some of the less popular ones. Profligate is one of those words.

Here’s how the dictionary defines the term:

Profligate

†“adjective
1. utterly and shamelessly immoral or dissipated; thoroughly dissolute.
2. recklessly prodigal or extravagant.

†“noun
3. a profligate person.

I can’t help but think, Rich, that since perfectly good cell phones can be had for $50, the desire for one that costs ten times that much seems…well, profligate. No doubt, the iPhone reeks of style and trendiness, and no doubt, many people who claim to follow Jesus will buy one. I’m not sure, though, that those buyers understand the word profligate.

Let me tell you about some people I know. I know a couple who bought a small home in one of the worst neighborhoods in our city. He has a good job and could afford a much larger home, but he and his wife elected to use their extra money to meet the desperate needs of their poorer neighbors. I know a man who forgos the expensive medication he needs to feel better so he can help a woman who has no health insurance pay for the even more expensive cancer medication she needs. I know a family who sent $1000 of their hard-earned money to help an unemployed couple they had never met in person make a house payment so they could keep their home. I know a man who gave every cent he owned in the world to fund a missionary couple who would have been recalled. Those missionaries were in the middle of their translation of the Bible into a new language. They would’ve had to come home unless they raised enough money to complete the translation.

Funny thing is, those people I just mentioned don’t know the common, negative understanding of the word profligate either—but for a far different reason. They live a different way: the way of Christ. If they have any profligacy in their lives, it’s profligacy in giving, not taking.

You mentioned in your last letter that I sounded out of step with the rest of the world. Indeed, I fear I am. You see, for me, it’s not so much about accumulating the hip trinkets of this life, things that break, become obsolete, and ultimately do not satisfy the longings of the heart. That’s because I believe in a world far more real than this one, a world where hip trinkets pale in the light of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Yes, as you said, it’s a risky belief. It means not keeping up with the social standing of the rest of the world. I would probably never be voted into the wonderful country club you and Mrs. Ruler just got accepted to. But that’s okay, Rich. It really is.

Some Christians believe this world is not their home. They won’t be understood by the rest of the world, nor by some other people who say they believe in Jesus. They’ve said no to many of the things the world offers and that’s an exceedingly hard thing to do.

You see, Rich, it’s one thing to say you believe something. It’s another thing altogether to believe something so much that your life looks radically different from the rest of the crowd. The crowd says so many things and believes so many things, doesn’t it? But who is willing to die to the voice of majority and give what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose? In a way then, the true profligate may be the one who appears to have every thing deemed good by the world’s standard, but will one day wind up losing it all in tears and flames. He has gained the world, but lost his soul.

I know my letter may not make sense to you. I’ll keep praying, though, that for all your seeking, God in His grace will make Himself known to you.

But I must caution you, Rich. If He does, and you take that revelation seriously, it may mean an end to one dream and the beginning of another. That new dream won’t look much like the old one, though. It may mean not only forgoing an iPhone, but giving up cell phones altogether. You may end up thinking it better to share those extra bedrooms in your new home with orphans or widows even if it means you could no longer afford that home theater system you said you might be purchasing. Don’t expect to be popular for electing not to keep up with the Joneses so you can minister life to others. The folks you run with probably won’t approve of your new dream. You may lose your standing at the country club. You may even be kicked out because you’re no longer one of the right kind of people.

But then again, that new dream’s the only dream that counts, the only one that ends in the Eternal Golden City. I pray I see you there.

For the Kingdom,

B. A. Disciple