Unchained Dreams

I still don’t understand the why. But this has given more purpose to the who; namely, myself.

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Some days ago, I tried to fall asleep with tears in my eyes. Questions seethed in my mind; the unknown, black and ominous, rose up in front of me with cold dread; and my heart cried out to Heaven. I don’t know what You’re doing or what You have in mind as the end of all of this—but whatever it is, it better be worth it.

Tears dried, mind drifted into slumber. The cry was repented of: Of course God knows what He’s doing. After all, He’s God. And too, the pain would pass.

Night deepened…and dreams swirled.

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I was about to fall asleep. Honestly, I was just too tired after a long adventurous day in Mae Sot. But I hadn’t posted anything on Google + in awhile, so why not randomly post something?

Fingers traced circles on the keyboard. Nothing presented itself.

In the silence of thinking, my mind went back to the day before, when I’d woken up and realized I’d had a dream. Nothing too strange—I have dreams once in awhile: sometimes they’re weird, sometimes not.

This one hadn’t been particularly weird—unusual, sure—but it had been painful. A dream that hurt at the first; then overflowed me with joy and peace—probably the worst kind of dream there is. Happiness embraced my final sleeping moments, but as soon as eyes opened to morning, reality’s cold finger stabbed itself in my direction with the taunt, “Wake up. It is not so.”

I woke up. And it was not so.

The dream remained very real for some hours, and from there is waned til I can remember it well enough, but it seems so far-fetched, so ridiculous. Mock-worthy. So much so that my fingers now found a voice and began to speak.

“I’ve come to a conclusion. I hate dreams. Night dreams or day dreams. Those “maybe someday…” dreams. Any dream.”

I looked at the screen, debated a moment, and deleted it. Better just go to bed. I don’t need people asking questions.

I had come to that conclusion though. At that moment, I hated dreams. Any sort of dream.

Oh, I’ve had them for years. Night dreams I couldn’t control, and day dreams that I could. And plenty of those “maybe someday…” dreams. But right then, with that dream fresh in my mind and too many shattered dreams fresh in my heart, I hated them.

Every last one of them.

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Like the frosting on a cake came that sentence that pierced me to the wall and held me there like the proverbial interrogator. And I’d found it in my own inbox, no less.

Only then can we rattle the chains of those who destroyed us…

Relieve the oppressor. Not just the oppressed.

In other words, help the one who broke your heart instead of trying to heal the brokenness inside you. Make yourself vulnerable to be broken again by the very same one who shattered you. Reach out to someone who’s hurt you like no one else has.

Deliver your own destroyer.

Because only the chained can truly shatter another like that.

And only the victim can best rattle the chains of their oppressor.

It was a little too much for my mind to take in at the time. Lord, how on earth could I even possibly make an impression on my ‘destroyer’? I see no possible way.

Heaven breathed. I have a thousand ways where you only have one…

I, as a member of the destroyed (in a sense, for no one can truly be destroyed who clings to Christ), have a duty, then.

In any way that God leads me to, I am to be a chain-rattler.

Of the chains of the one who destroyed me. The one who hurt me. Shattered me. Broke me.

But I look again. Was it man, a human soul, that destroyed me?

Or was it my dreams?

If there were no dreams, there would’ve been no hurt. No brokenness.

There could be no destroying if my heart had not dreamed. For the loss of a dream would not have destroyed.

But there are people in life that have wounded this heart. Broken me to pieces. Shattered a fragile spirit. People who have very near crushed the life out of me by what they’ve said, done, been—or failed to be.

There are real humans that are my destroyers.

And they’ve only been able to so aptly destroy me because they’ve been chained, too.

I’ve been given a command to rattle those chains. The chains of the ones who shattered me.

But in order to rattle anyone’s chains, I must first rattle another set of chains that belong to a creature very different from the friends and loved ones who’ve hurt me.

My dreams.

Nothing can destroy without it first being chained. And my dreams have been chained. Confined to the premises of my heart, what I want.

Not necessarily what God wants for me.

Once freed, these unchained dreams will reveal so much more—in fact, they become what God has dreamed for me all along. God’s dreams…not mine.

If I want God’s dreams for me, I must destroy the chains that hold my dreams.

And for those chains, I hold the key.

With the help from the One who loves me best, I can spring the lock, open the gate … Unchain my dreams.

Only then can I rattle the chains of those that destroyed me.

 Working on a portrait of Maria Adam's little boy, Jabez.

 Swimming in the river.

It's unavoidable: I sit on the porch with my computer, I get an audience.

 Hiking up into the mountains on a Sabbath afternoon to some caves. What a trek that was! It was a good experience, but I felt dead when we got back.

 We climbed up through this hole in the rocks. In a skirt and flip flops, this is quite the adventure.

 A few of the girls that came with us. The one in the red plaid coat is one of my seventh graders, Naw Lah Moo.

 Leroy Sharon, having climbed up the rocks in a way I can't imagine having done myself.

 Three seventh graders in a row: Maung Soe Thin (Maw Soe Thay) in front, and the two girls behind him (which I haven't been able to put names with yet.)

 I forget his name. He is one of the few that speaks extremely good English.

 Thara Timothy climbing a vine.

 These trees are positively dangerous. Especially when you're running downhill and then reach out to slow yourself down by grabbing a tree...OUCH.

 The beginning of a Sunday adventure.

 Rachel Perry, who visited us for a little over a week recently.

 Erick Reeve, who's joined us here at Sunshine Orchards and is working on learning the language currently.

 Flag pole.

 On a hike to "find a waterfall" that we weren't sure was there...

 

Counted only 87 concrete steps on this uphill hike. Kinda pitiful compared to the 866 from our last one.

 We found the waterfall!

 Its almost an unspoken rule now--every waterfall we visit, I have to get wet in somehow.

 Bless Hannah: she figured out how to slow the shutter speed down on my camera.

 Cold? Nah. Just comfortable.

 Ready to head back down the trail.

 Back we go...

 We'd stopped the car in the middle of a Karen village, and found these boys here playing soccer. They seemed to enjoy the fact that we were watching them.

 Now then, Hannah: if you ever call me the local embarassment again for riding on top the car, you'll have to call Erick that too...

 Ready to find a picnic spot.

 When the top of the car is taken, the back works just great.

 Someone commented that Harvey was the only one on the inside of the car, so he got out. Well, sorta...

 Rachel and Brenda in the windows.

 Hannah in the other window.

 There's no better way to ride.

 Found a little wildcat in a cage at a park. He looked so pitiful--as well as the small bear that they had caged there too. Poor little things.

 One of the strangest plants I've seen in Thailand so far.

 I finally got on top. Just sounded like too much fun--although sitting in that luggage rack makes me feel sorry for the luggage.

 Stopped at a place where they had a few monkeys...

 Monkey see, monkey do...

 This white gibbon was really friendly. She liked to touch us and be scratched.

 Inge and KooKooPaw in the river.

Destiny Sharon.

 Landon Meyer, after proclaiming to me, "I don't smile for pictures." Okay then; grimace. That's fine.

 NiKoToo, one of the IMM students, after swimming across the river and back.

 One of the little girls.

 Just hoppin' around.

 Part of my Christmas box... *grin*

 Headed to a church service in Mae Salit.

 We were there for a long time. Boy, was I tired when it finished!

Special music by the choir.

 Yes, they fed us after the service. That was really good stuff.

 Hannah.

 Little Eh Do Paw.

 A Sabbath afternoon trip with some visitors to a waterfall. I don't know if they would've got in except I stormed right in with Sharon.

 They enjoyed it, although there were two other who hadn't been convinced to come in.

 He finally came in, but the other young man stayed on the rocks, high and dry.

 Even the dog got dunked.

 Paused at a couple of viewpoints on the way down. I'd been riding on the back of the car the whole time, but after the second stop, I climbed on the top to ride home. Brenda must've looked through the back window, cuz I heard her yell, "Where's Heidi?" 

One of the visitors probably pointed upwards. "She's up there."

Yes, I am. 

God grant I never come down.

Some photos taken by Hannah Steck, Brenda Steck, Sharon Steck, Erick Reeve and Rachel Perry.