As a kid, I used to have a recurring dream. In the dream I stood alone on a dirt road stretching in both directions to nothingness as far as I could see. Nothing grew on either side; no houses or other buildings stood nearby. It was me and the road and that was all.
As I walked along the road in one direction, a cloud of dust arose behind me, very far away, but growing quickly nearer. Instinctively I knew that coming toward me was a Jeep, and inside the Jeep were Very Bad Things. If that Jeep caught up to me, I was going to die.
As soon as I knew this, I began to run. I can still hear my mind in the dream telling my small legs to “Run, run, run!” I can still feel the panic clutching my heart.
Every single time I had the dream, that Jeep caught up to me as I was running. Inside the Jeep, those Very Bad Things turned out to be two men holding guns, grinning at me. They pointed at me and fired, and I woke up mentally screaming, heart pounding, thinking I was dead.
I had the dream over and over. I don’t know why. Nothing like this has happened to me before or since. I had the dream so many times, I began to dread going to sleep, knowing the dream was coming. One night, lying in my dark room, I clearly heard a voice in my mind say, “When you have the dream this time, don’t run. Stop and turn around.”
I fell asleep. And sure enough, there I stood on the barren road. I started walking. The cloud of dust rose behind me. Panic. Then I remembered the voice. Don’t run.
Everything in me wanted to run. The thought of obeying that voice brought terror to my heart. But I was so tired of running. So tired of this cycle.
I forced myself to stop. I stood there a moment in the road. And then, slowly, I turned around.
I woke up.
Instead of panic, I felt peace. Instantly I knew the dream was gone. I have never had it since.
Like I said, this kind of thing normally does not happen to me. I have always written it off as a crazy story from my youth, a funny way the mind manipulates itself. But the other day as I was thinking about this rather dark season I have been walking through, that dream came back to mind. I saw it in a different light. Looking back on that terrified girl lying in her bed trying not to fall asleep, I saw her Savior standing over her with compassion, placing his hands on her head, and whispering, “Don’t run. Stop and turn around.”
I’ve started to realize how much that dream is like my life. There is always this cloud of dust coming toward me carrying Very Bad Things. That Jeep holds people I am trying not to let down. People I have hurt anyway. It holds the responsibilities I cannot seem to keep up with. My failures. It holds the unknowns of the future. It holds rejection and pain and loneliness. It holds a lot of doubt, questioning, anger. It holds incredible sadness. It holds all my fears and insecurities, all my wounds and all my woundings.
I am always running from that dust cloud. Panicked. Knowing even as I sprint that my attempt is futile. That vehicle is going to catch up with me, and when it does, all those grinning monsters will point at me, and I will be done. And so, I run. Maybe this time I can fix it. Maybe this time I can run faster than my fears.
And there is this voice saying, Stop. Don’t run. Just turn around.
If I stop and face the cloud, maybe it will catch up with me. Maybe I will still be in the dark. But maybe if I stop, I will know myself held. Protected. Loved right there in the middle of the night.
We are constantly chased by our fears and failures. We spend our days running, trying to keep ahead of them. At least I do. Most of the time, I even think that’s what God wants of me. Just keep going.
It’s like that story of the disciples in the boat with Jesus as he sleeps while a storm threatens to drown them. How long do the disciples work at bailing and trying to save themselves before they finally turn to Jesus for help? When they wake him, he hears the fear in their voice: “Don’t you care that we are perishing?”
He saves them with a word, and then he rebukes them. “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”
Jesus and the disciples were in the same boat. When the storm caught up with them, one rested while the others panicked. Yes, Jesus calmed the storm when they asked for help. But before that, when the storm was at its worst, Jesus was not concerned. Not afraid. He didn’t rebuke his disciples for asking for help but for their lack of faith. I wonder, if the disciples had looked at Jesus’ calm face instead of at the storm, how would their mindset have shifted? If they trusted that Jesus hadn’t abandoned them by falling asleep, what would have changed?
My fears gain power over me when they make me run from my place of safety and rest. And the answer is counterintuitive. It’s to turn and face them. Let them come.
In my place in the dark, I am not alone. I am held by the One who has no fear of any storm. He has not abandoned me. He’s there with me in it, and I’m going to be OK. More than OK. He has promised.
