The sun greeted them as they sat on the lush
green grass. The hill side was full of happy, content people. They talked to
each other, smiled at one another and enjoyed the scenery. They were in their
own world. Peace and quiet filled the hillside. It was a perfect day, or so it
seemed.
As I watched them I relaxed deeper into my own world. I saw contentment and comradery. I soaked it in. I wanted to become part of the community.
My attention was moved to a commotion not far from the peaceful hillside. It happened in the valley. It grew into a small disturbance. A fence came into focus, one that I hadn't seen when I sat down on the hillside. It captured my attention; my eyes were locked onto it. I wondered what was on the other side of the fence. I wouldn't have long to wait.
As I was mesmerized by the scene, a bus came rolling down the valley, crashing through the fence. I was paralyzed. I couldn't or didn't want to change my view. I didn't think of the people on the hillside, who were temporarily unaffected with the busted down fence. I watched and realized I was seeing a prison.
All of a sudden men in orange jump suits poured out of the bus and overtook the guards. My fixation was strengthened as I watched a massive amount of convicts flooding the hillside through the knocked down fence. I was being entertained and I liked it. A movie was playing in front of me. I was on the front seat and had all the benefits of surround sound. I felt someone yelled, "Action!" and at the right time he would yell, "Cut!"
When observation turned to participation, reality hit me. No one was going to yell, "Cut!" This was real! I heard screams. I saw the faces of the people. They were my family. They were my friends. They were my community. The sounds combined with the carnage, assaulted my senses. Adrenaline was shooting darts through my bloodstream. I couldn't take it anymore. I was in danger. I ran.
I entered the next scene - a dark city. I found myself walking down vacant streets. I was lonely and cold. My mind overrode my heart, convincing me of the correctness of my decision to run. With my mind in control I stayed in the darkness. I roamed the dim alleys. I smelled the stench. I was alone.
My heart won out and I returned to the hillside. The bus was gone. The convicts were gone. I became sick. Anger took front seat on the ride I was on. I saw people lying in pools of blood. Some were barely sitting up, others were lying down. There were open wounds on faces, arms and legs. White bandages covered the people. Groans of the hurting filled the air. The peaceful green hillside was now a river of blood. Upon that slope were those I knew. They looked at me, my undamaged condition. I sat there guilty. I sunk into despair. Darkness covered us, refusing the sun to shine on the once lush hillside.
I woke up. I instantly knew the message of the dream. Over the years this dream has directed my mind towards my heart. I gained a deep respect for life and the Giver of the dream. In a world that has instant news, I had to enforce compassion into my thought process. God did not want me to sit in my chair with a coke and popcorn in my hand, watching the nightly news like some kind of entertainment.
That night God elevated life onto my large screen. When I elevate the dream's message to its proper position: I evoke compassion instead of emotionless observation, and I pray for people instead of just watching news.
In the last sentence and replace "I" with "you" and you will become involved.
As I watched them I relaxed deeper into my own world. I saw contentment and comradery. I soaked it in. I wanted to become part of the community.
My attention was moved to a commotion not far from the peaceful hillside. It happened in the valley. It grew into a small disturbance. A fence came into focus, one that I hadn't seen when I sat down on the hillside. It captured my attention; my eyes were locked onto it. I wondered what was on the other side of the fence. I wouldn't have long to wait.
As I was mesmerized by the scene, a bus came rolling down the valley, crashing through the fence. I was paralyzed. I couldn't or didn't want to change my view. I didn't think of the people on the hillside, who were temporarily unaffected with the busted down fence. I watched and realized I was seeing a prison.
All of a sudden men in orange jump suits poured out of the bus and overtook the guards. My fixation was strengthened as I watched a massive amount of convicts flooding the hillside through the knocked down fence. I was being entertained and I liked it. A movie was playing in front of me. I was on the front seat and had all the benefits of surround sound. I felt someone yelled, "Action!" and at the right time he would yell, "Cut!"
When observation turned to participation, reality hit me. No one was going to yell, "Cut!" This was real! I heard screams. I saw the faces of the people. They were my family. They were my friends. They were my community. The sounds combined with the carnage, assaulted my senses. Adrenaline was shooting darts through my bloodstream. I couldn't take it anymore. I was in danger. I ran.
I entered the next scene - a dark city. I found myself walking down vacant streets. I was lonely and cold. My mind overrode my heart, convincing me of the correctness of my decision to run. With my mind in control I stayed in the darkness. I roamed the dim alleys. I smelled the stench. I was alone.
My heart won out and I returned to the hillside. The bus was gone. The convicts were gone. I became sick. Anger took front seat on the ride I was on. I saw people lying in pools of blood. Some were barely sitting up, others were lying down. There were open wounds on faces, arms and legs. White bandages covered the people. Groans of the hurting filled the air. The peaceful green hillside was now a river of blood. Upon that slope were those I knew. They looked at me, my undamaged condition. I sat there guilty. I sunk into despair. Darkness covered us, refusing the sun to shine on the once lush hillside.
I woke up. I instantly knew the message of the dream. Over the years this dream has directed my mind towards my heart. I gained a deep respect for life and the Giver of the dream. In a world that has instant news, I had to enforce compassion into my thought process. God did not want me to sit in my chair with a coke and popcorn in my hand, watching the nightly news like some kind of entertainment.
That night God elevated life onto my large screen. When I elevate the dream's message to its proper position: I evoke compassion instead of emotionless observation, and I pray for people instead of just watching news.
In the last sentence and replace "I" with "you" and you will become involved.
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