I am reluctant to describe dreams to anyone. They are often disjointed, and obtuse. But this week I had one that felt different. 

 

The bishop of our church was having a birthday, and in anticipation of that he planned a huge party. He had a generous pile of sweets, and wanted to fabricate ways to share them. He concocted games that were rigged in favor of the children playing. I was lucky enough to be one of the people engaged in both shepherding kids through the many opportunities to win, and cleaning up afterward. I was even clever enough to entice the children to help tidy up, rather like Tom Sawyer with his fence. 

 

The entire objective of the carnival was to bestow treats, and have fun along the way. Some booths seemed marginally more difficult than others, but it only increased the sense of bravado. 

 

Then I woke up. 

 

The symbolism of it all gave me pause. As it happened, the day before had involved more than a usual amount of stress, including insurance, transferring the title of a car, doctors, and reigning Ben in from dicey choices. I expressed it this way to my kids on our chat. 

 

"You know I don't drink. But I am considering it."

 

Things untangled without unraveling, and the day ended with a lovely conversation with our son and his wife, who were visiting for the purpose of us gifting them a car. I was also delighted to offer them their pick of a quilt, with the arbitrary excuse of the next birthday to justify it. What the dream suggested to me... no, make that insisted... was that God has an abundance of blessings to offer us. Rather than simply dumping a lifetime supply on our heads, however, He makes our routines into a carnival of sorts wherein those gifts seem to be the result of our cleverness. In truth, we get them regardless, even if God has to use sleight of hand to land them in our laps. 

 

It is when we understand this that we finally open our eyes.