I dreamt a few nights ago that I was in a large gathering of people getting ready to be sent to the mission field. People were applying, were in training, and various other stages of the process. But I walked in, and God told me what to do, and apparently, told the others about me as well, since they did not question.
I was told to go to Africa, and that I would die there. No discussion. Go.
I remember fear in my dream. And the first thought I remember waking up to was "I'm glad that wasn't real..."
But it only took a few seconds for me to realize, my non-dream life was less scary than the dream. Not because going to Africa to serve and die was not required of me, but because I feel like it always has been required of me, and that God is faithful.
"And our questions grow in number
And their answers loom with fear
But still we ask and we trust you
Because you've held us here
With chains of grace and longing
Longing to be loved
And longing to be known
And we go on...
(All this reaching, still no grasping
Faith is there but time is passing
Are the answers in the asking
Where the weak become the strong?)"
Africa? maybe not.
My life? My death? Yes.
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