Other times they are just disconnected scenes of a very bizarre
nature. There’s no sense or reason and
they don’t lend themselves to any kind of useful interpretation. Most of last night’s offerings were like that
– just nonsense.
There was one scene, however, that was fairly
normal. A group of us decided to walk
down to the village chip shop. “Us”
comprised of no one I knew in real life.
It was a nice evening for a walk and the company was pleasant.
I remember having problems with my shoes laces. They were really, really, really long. I had wrapped them around the shoe dozens of
times, under the arch of the foot, before tying them up, but they kept coming
loose and I was forever tripping over.
I told people to go ahead. I would catch them up once I had sorted myself
out. Someone offered to stay and wait,
but I waved them on.
That’s when I realised that the problem wasn’t the shoe
lace – it was the shoe. It wasn’t a
trainer, or a walking boot or anything sensible at all. I was wearing a pair of highland dancing
pumps. The laces threaded through the
holes on either side of the pump and then criss-crossed around and up the
calve. The laces were supposed to be
long. They weren’t supposed to be
wrapped around the shoe half a dozen times.
I woke up at that point.
It was while I was having my morning wash that I felt the
Spirit say, “You should be dancing!”
“Huh?” I am not at my
brightest before my first cup of tea.
I had been reading a story in the gospels – the story of
the crippled woman who is healed on the Sabbath day.
“On a Sabbath Jesus was teaching in one
of the synagogues, and a woman was there who had been crippled by a spirit for
eighteen years. She was bent over and could not straighten up at all.
When Jesus
saw her, he called her forward and said to her, “Woman,
you are set free from your infirmity.” Then he
put his hands on her, and immediately she straightened up and praised God.” Luke 13:10-13.
I don’t think I am crippled, but bits of
me take a little bit more time to move than they used to. People may not look crippled on the outside,
but if you could peel away the physical bits and look at their heart, or their
soul or their mind, maybe they would be stooped over. The infirmity is not visible, but
unseen. They are crippled just the same.
Jesus put her hands on her and set her
free. She straightened up and praised
God.
I remember, yesterday, or whatever day
it was that I read the story, acknowledging that on the outside I may appear to
be standing upright, but on the inside in my heart, my soul, and my mind, I am
sometimes a little crushed. An anxiety
or worry is plaguing me, and inside I am stooping under the weight of it
all. I prayed for Jesus to touch me and
set me free that I could straighten up and praise him.
I guess I didn’t linger long enough to
know inside that a change had happened.
I just tossed the prayer heavenward and headed for work.
I didn’t feel particularly plagued with
worries or anxieties. It had been a good
day.
I suppose this morning, before the first
cup of tea, or the morning’s quiet time, my internal posture of heart, soul and
mind had taken on the customary stooping.
Although there were no worries and anxieties, I had been so used to
carrying them around that the inner Mel had adapted to accommodate them.
“You should be dancing!”
That quiet whisper of the Holy Spirit
broke through. The shoes and the very
long laces of the dream made perfect sense.
Throughout the day it has been the constant whisper to my spirit.
My heart, soul and mind have been
dancing all day.
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