April 23 – “A dream to remember”

Both of my hearing aids are in the repair shop.  So please don't get offended if I appear to be ignoring you for the next two weeks or so.  I either don't hear you, or I can hear sound that isn't forming itself into intelligible conversation.  I'll do my best to concentrate.  On the positive side, the doc cleaned out a ton of wax from Mom's ears.  She stayed up until almost 10:30 watching the Astros game simply because, as she said, "I could hear it."   We did get to go to Luby's after the hearing aid trip.  I had fried shrimp.  Just like old times.  Except they gave me more shrimp.  And they were less tasty. The chocolate pie was OK, though.  And Mom seemed happy.  Except she kept sneaking food onto Chris' plate (like Chris didn't notice a big old hunk of broccoli and then a sweet potato).  Mom finally pushed her chocolate pie away and took a deep breath, so we asked her what was up.  She said she was just trying to keep up with us, but she couldn't eat any more.  I didn't know there was a race on.  I could have finished much faster.   I had one of those incredibly memorable dreams last night.  Now it's important to remember the promise Chris and I have made to pray for anyone in our dreams that we can remember when we wake up.  Here's the essence of the nocturnal vision.  We were in San Diego (no idea where that came from), waiting for a ship to arrive.  On that ship were some of the boys who played on an old basketball team I used to coach when Josh was playing.  A few of the guys were already in the room with us.  Josh Hahn, from Denver (he and our Josh excelled as varsity defensive specialists on the half court press as 8th graders).  Joel Prebilsky, from Pearland (he and Josh were the starting guards on the Pearland team.  When they were seniors they ran the game from the floor after we realized our bench calls had been scouted, and that resulted in our first ever win against a public school team).  Brian Lemon, from that Pearland team (he was one of the two post players.  He led the team in blocked shots).    Josh Vaughan was engaged in a very serious discussion with the Brian Williams, the other post player on that team (he had the best drop step for a layup shot that I have ever seen in a high school player).  I don't know where the other guys on that team were.  I presume they were on board the ship we were waiting for.  Anyway, Josh and Brian were talking seriously about the Navy team we were to play when everyone arrived.  Josh had arranged the game with them on the promise that we would help them load cargo on a ship.  Brian couldn't see the wisdom of that move.  Josh reassured him, and then added, "We will take their hearts and then serve them back to them on a silver platter."  A bit harsh, don't you think, Josh?   A noise outside alerted us all to someone's arrival.  As we went outside and into the huge field in the front yard, a car drove up.  Out came Bruce Edwards.  Now he had nothing to do with the basketball team.  He was the very loud and raucous pastor of the church I worked at in Arlington.  And behind him was Chico Richardson, one of the people from our Langwood Baptist Church Era.  He started to shake my hand, but we ended up in a hug instead.  Guess they were to be fan support.    Then, a movement from the other side of the field caught my eye.  There, running full tilt and dressed head to toe in fire fighter bunker gear, was Danny Carr, looking just the age he was (jr. high) when I was his youth pastor in the early 70's.  He was dragging with him the business end of a fire hose hooked up to the nearest hydrant.  Close behind him was the 4-year-old version of Jonathan Edwards, Bruce's youngest son.  He was also dressed in full fire fighting gear, and he carried one of those foam spraying fire extinguishers.  And it didn't take long for Danny and Jonathan to start what became a free for all in the field.    The last thing I remember was a faint female cry from somewhere trying to remind us that it was 1:00 in the morning and we would wake up the neighborhood if that nonsense continued.  Who could that have been?  I'm still not sure, but I think it was either Chris or Mary Scoggins.  That's when I woke up.  And it was 1:10 a.m., so whoever it was got the time right.  With so many names to remember, I went right into the office and jotted them all down.  I told Chris about the dream when we woke up, and it led to a major walk down memory lane.  We mentioned name after name of people we remembered from the different periods of our life together.  It was kind of fun.  Certainly a dream to remember.   Acts 2:17 says, "In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people.  Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams."   Father, I know this particular old man's dream was not the kind you were talking about, but come on back anyway.  Whenever you are ready.  Amen.