To gain freedom, it is necessary to give up our lives; some will understand and some won’t, and I’m becoming more ok with that at each limb of my understanding of life. All of us will give up something we’ve grown accustomed to, in order to find that love we spend our whole lives hoping we’ll find, or lose love by holding onto what we have attained. We have all, one way or another, survived on the hope of fulfillment of love and freedom for a long time, and that’s ok. It is ok knowing that fulfillment will be at a cost, though the reality of the loss hurts more than I, and those who understand, will ever want to have to admit.
Tears stained my face that first night I saw and began to understand what I’m still searching for the finality of. This from a calculated set of digits from a specific book of study. Tears stained my face that first night and the days that followed. Not too long after that night I woke from a dream in which I silently observed trees in a forest planting the roots of trees in the forest. I stood there watching as the trees went on planting the roots of trees in the forest – until I heard a soft voice, soft as a whisper say “tell them to prepare the place for the children are coming among them”. I was awake after that, unsure of what to do or who the trees were, and, nervous as a wreck, I assumed my legs weren’t firm under me yet. But there was work to do, words to speak, and work was ongoing in the forest as I sat thinking of the meaning of the dream of the forest, with the trees planting the trees.
What made sense to me as I observed and was observed, was that the trees and their planting of trees have become so ingrained that they seem to have forgotten what the master of the harvest said, even as they read the instructions for planting. Compassionate and gentle love while laying the seeds to grow. They plant roots giddily, but some roots never see the light of the sun because they retreat into the darkest shade when the rain comes down on them too harshly, and they see the soot of the soil under their roots, as the rain begins to clean them. And the seeds, I realized, there were no seeds being planted to grow new trees. And the trees continue planting the roots of the trees in my dreams left behind.
Some will understand and some won’t, and I am becoming more ok with that. I question now as I write these words – was I being told the owner of the forest was sending farmers to plant new seeds among the trees? Considering the thing – there seem to me a difference in the way the master of the harvest treated the trees and how he sowed the seeds, and those who followed after him, when the seeds were first laid in the soil. He had chosen some among the shoots that the best considered some of the worst, to begin sowing seeds, and taught them until they were well watered, cleaned and smoothed. He tended the shoots till they sprouted branches, and then he taught them the meaning of the Owner of the vineyard’s words, “I desired mercy not sacrifice”. He shone light on the new trees so they could bear good fruit, regardless of their condition.
And this dream of the trees in the forest planting trees reminded me of something. The seeds that fell on not so good soil; they are to be tended and not trampled and smeared for falling short. Yet, each forest wishes for more trees. But did this dream mean that they are planting the same trees?
The trees are to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves in order to be like the master of the harvest, the desire of the owner of the forest; “to the Law and to the Testimony”, in order to validate that statement, according Isaiah 8:20. Life, for those who understand, is not about what we want, but about what the owner of the forest desires, according to the master of the harvest. Just one more. “Mercy not sacrifice”. How much would he have celebrated if Elijah had given him just one more to add to that 7,000? How much more, will He celebrate if the trees of the forest welcome the children with all their broken pieces and shivering hearts and shelter them until they are renewed in heart and spirit, rather than exposing them to what they’re leaving behind? The owner will love the ones who water the seeds who fall on the rocky cracks so they have a chance to grow. Be wise as serpents and harmless as doves and put aside the desire to raise wicked fists.
All of this from a vivid dream I still don’t understand the full meaning of. I have no choice but to I admit my fault in the process because I was more afraid of having to speak the words than the message in its full context. I would prefer to think that a dream as vivid as the dream of a forest, with trees laying the roots of other trees, was more of a plea. A message. A call to remember to prepare so that when new seeds are thrown into the forest they land on good soil, and to be ready to patiently move those who fell on bad soil to good soil, in order to give them a chance to bear good fruit. I believe it will save some of the children from running from their own shadows when they see the darkness that the light is removing from them in order to purity them. I also believe this will please the Owner of the forest more than any tithe or praise the trees sing in the wind. One more child that the master of the harvest can redeem for the owner of the forest. Share their pain and help them grow. One more child in the forest the Owner of the forest can be happy to watch stretch its branches toward the light.
But, I, being one tiny splintered shoot now growing among the giant roots, a voice so silent, growing with a spirit so timid and gentle, that it nearly seems like had I spoken, I would not be heard, and had I ran from my own darkness no one would pay attention. The more I examine my gentle silence, and the more I see how purposefully the master of the harvest watered me and nurtured me to life, is the more I begin to realize how precious a silent, gentle way of living is. So I am ok with my gentle silence, understanding that. And this is what the Owner of the forest desires. Mercy, meekness, gentleness, humility, and bold actions as the Rock emerges.
But those are my thoughts of this dream. And you, when you, the trees that understand read about this dream; what are the words and feelings that come to you?