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I think I've only ever told one person about the dream besides my husband. Maybe a few others I'm not thinking of right now.
It's the dream that causes me pause on my desire to be a missionary one day. I read a blog post today and it sent shivers down my spine. Once again, I was reminded of where I'm supposed to be.
But the dream is always there, always in the back of my mind. Always wondering if it is a "sign" from God, a "warning", or if it's just that - a dream. No, I don't believe God tells us our future - but I do believe God speaks through dreams. I believe because he has spoken that way to me before.
I had this dream several years ago - but let me back up a bit and give you some background.
We attend a pentecostal church. We believe in speaking in tongues. I was raised differently and still thought it was just all a big show until it happened to my husband and then to me - and now I feel differently. Anyway - the first moment I spoke in tongues - I was watching a show on tv. It was about Arabic women and the pain they suffer living under Sharia law. As I watched a woman being stoned on tv, suddenly there it was. Tongues. I cried out to the Lord for these women. Forward a few years. I was diagnosed with cancer. My husband was seeking the Lord for me when God gave him a picture. The picture was Marty and I speaking to an Arabic man about Jesus. Marty felt that was God telling him we would be together a long time - and one day - on the missions field introducing an Arabic man to Jesus. I realize there are "problems" with that picture as it is more likely I would not be in the picture as a female - but no less - it's what Marty felt. Shortly after this, we felt God was specifically speaking about Ethiopia to us.
At some point, the dream came. It is still distinct to this day. For those of you who know us - Marty and I, almost 19 years into marriage - are madly, deeply, insanely in love. We have a rock solid marriage and I wouldn't trade the man I married for anything. I would be utterly lost without him and he without me. We are best friends, soul mates and love nothing more than being together. In the dream - Marty and I were in a crowd of angry men dressed in traditional Arabic clothing. It was hot. It was dry, it was dusty. The crowd was yelling - pulling us each seperate ways. They were demanding we deny Jesus. If you know my husband - you know that will never - ever happen. In the dream, I am crying as they beat my husband in front of me. Yet he will not deny Jesus. I am yelling at him, telling him to stay strong, to not give up. They began to yell at me, demanding me to deny or watch Marty die. I am quoting scripture, crying, watching the man I love get hit and kicked over and over.
I woke up gasping for air. It was one vivid dream. I was shaking, crying in my sleep, terrified - yet proud of the man I married. I also had a feeling about this one. I'm familiar - very familiar - with nightmares - but this one felt different. I wondered at that point - God - what are you saying? Is this from you?
It scared me. It really did. When you couple the dreams with the other things I described - difficult. I've always said "Me? In an Arabic country?". You all know how opionated I can be. You all know how, althgouh I am far from a feminist - I can't stand the mistreatment of others. I have a big mouth in certain cirumstances and the LAST place in the world I can imagine being is anywhere that I am not free to speak. But I can't deny the dream. I still wonder what God was trying to say.
I'm curious as to what you have to say. The dream will never stop me from going where God calls. It makes me nervous but wherever my Jesus calls - I will follow.
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1 comment:
Wow. That's an intense dream, Tami.
I remember before the Lord took me to Sudan that I experienced a week of very deep and real grief as I counted the cost of following Him there. I wish I could say that most of what I grieved over during those days of decision never happened, but the fact is, many of those things did happen when I was in Sudan. Children I cared for died. My life was in danger time and again. Sickness and loss were closer and more real than I'd ever before known them to be. We faced the reality of being "defenseless" (to natural eyes) against a demonic rebel army. Loneliness was at times acute. I nearly died of malaria.
I am thankful that the Lord gave me some warning of what my obedience to Him might mean beforehand. His grace was sufficient during those struggles and will continue to be. Without making a choice to obey in the face of what my obedience could mean, when trouble came, I probably would have turned back from the plow as one "unworthy" of the calling.
Having said all of that, during my years with Jesus in Sudan, I saw Him display His glory in ways I'd never seen before. When we choose the fire for His sake, like the three young Hebrews in Babylon, He will not abandon us there. We will be amazed time and again by His presence and His miraculous intervention!
Who am I to say that your husband won't be beaten and possibly martyred at some point? It's a possibility we all may face who cling steadfastly to Jesus.
But we are not ashamed of Him. He is our living hope, though our bodies are outwardly wasting away. Our Jesus is ultimate reality, and I pray we are all faithful to Him to the end, even as He was faithful to us unto death... and from death into victorious life again!
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