I have dreams… hidden in my heart as seeds of hope. Dreams once whispered through darkness tucked inside husk of soul. The waiting can be so very long. The husk remains unbroken…for years…until life crushes and a tiny crack appears.
Seventeen years ago while living in Amsterdam, I began having unique dreams. In one of them, I saw granaries in America filled with grain, resources intended for the nations.
After returning to the states, a sabbatical of silence ensued and the seeds of hope remained in darkness. It was time for me to wait…and to listen…in hope for God-breathed words.
I searched for meaning in other dreams at night and waited for messages to come by daylight. I heard wisdom pour forth from the lips of others. I knew when heaven whispered, the insight would shattered my earthen, deafened state with unexpected messages full of purpose and life.
The dreams continued, providing assurance that the seeds of hope were still alive. Dreams that I would one day join others in raising funds for needy causes. Dreams of tiny lights in schools were people taught youth to read…
who were far past the time of flowering to do so.
Nine years ago, I dreamt of children and youth in broken neighborhoods of the city leading parents by the hand to lively events at a community center. They left bicycles behind as they formed a long line. Puppet shows, theatre arts, music, song, and dance brought life as people rose above denominational boundaries to pour out time and talents.
A sense of community and caring resulted as people joined in spite of their differences. They came outside of their churches. They left behind their religious jargon and staunch expectations. What motivated them was authentic caring to help others without thought to what their particular church could gain. I still wait to see the sprouting of life this dream promises.
A couple of weeks ago, I prayed before falling off to sleep, “God, when will these dreams come true?” Then in the middle of the night I awoke with these words…”When the fullness of time came, God sent forth His Son…”
Three people appeared at our staff meeting the next morning asking how they could help our students. I fought back the tears knowing…the seed has sprouted!
This Thursday after school, I will join the Neighborhood Impact group from Central Christian at their Community House located in a neighborhood by the school where I teach.
This is the second neighborhood home these devoted people have established. The first was by Piute Middle School in collaboration with other churches. They join with local residents to paint their houses, provide youth activities, and plant a community garden. They collaborate with a “Wellness Clinic” located in a home close by that provides medical assistance.
A seed of hope is growing.
So many of my literacy students live near this community house. I have the opportunity to join in the events and help where I can. The house needs contributions and contributors. On their wish list are books for their modest library and art supplies for the arts and crafts room.
They need computers so youth can check their grades online, access research, and play learning games.
Most of all, they need people willing to stop and listen, play basketball and Wii, read and tutor, and teach arts and crafts. Does this invitation crack the husk of anyone else’s dream out there still in “the waiting?” Perhaps helping will provide an opportunity for your seed of faith to grow out of cracked shell of soul.
If you are interested, you can contact the ministry outreach pastor using this link http://www.centralchristianfamily.org/Outreach/Trend%20Neighborhood%20Impact/ or email me at email@example.com.