"Such Stuff as Dreams are Made Of"

I am a dreamer.  Both literally and figuratively.  I dream full epic movies in color with all five senses involved.  Really-- Every night is a new adventure. 

I dreamed the sensation of skydiving and looking down at the little patchworks of farmland, and when I did the real jump, it wasn't that far off.  Same sensation of floating, same surreal feeling of peace. 

Not all dreams are so idyllic.  Two nights ago I dreamed I got in with some hooligans, one of whom stole the removable light off a cop car and stuck it on his so that, in his words, we could do whatever we wanted without having to answer for it.  Funny thing, the real cops came back and things got ugly as they and the guy got into a WWF-style fight with crowbars, poles, and broken glass!  Somehow, I ended up being the one who got arrested, and was sentenced to a month in the slammer!  I was taken to police headquarters and told to report to "Mario", my detention officer.  Thing is, I couldn't find him, and, being the responsible person I am, kept wandering the halls looking for nametags that read "Mario".  Finally some guy told me he was upstairs and said to take the cargo elevator.  As I stepped into the cavernous metal box that started moving upward, the realization of what I was about to go through hit me, and I started crying and calling out for Jesus--and my alarm went off!  Saved by the bell--literally!  He always hears my prayers.

Some dreams I want to never end, like the one when I and my partner-in-crime were screaming along the desert on camelback to save a foreign maiden from scimitar-wielding invaders from the east.  The colors were so intense and bright, and everything was sepia under the sun and glaze.  I still recall the feeling of doing something heroic and being a part of something grand and sweeping, like Lawrence of Arabia, except less boring.

Jim Carrey apparently dreamed he would be famous and then went about the business of doing it.  He actually wrote himself a personal check for $10 million for "acting services rendered" and kept it with him wherever he went as a motivator.  Now he makes twice that for his services. 

My dream is not about money.  Sure, it would be nice to be rich.  I'm not denying that.  My dream is to bring beauty into the lives of people in desperation.  This world is so often all about survival, whether you're in a mud hut trying not to die from a mosquito bite or climbing the corporate ladder and trying not to kill your soul.  I want people to know there's more of life to be rendered than that.  I want them to know the beauty of a song or a colorful garment or a dragonfly's wing or a perfect day, and in so doing let it lift their eyes to the beauty of a peerless God. 

So often my night dreams are ever so much more intense than my days, and sometimes, shouldn't it be the other way around?  I want to wake up ready for the adventure of living instead of looking forward to the surrender of slumber to quaff my adventure quota.  I want to live as fearless and as dependent on God as in my best dreams and worst nightmares. 

God, Show me how to live!  This is my prayer, in Jesus' Name.