Building Ramps (part 2) (see "Sharpening My Saw" below)

When I first suspected that God’s answer was contained in Haggai, as excited as I was, I was still wondering if I was “hearing” God’s answer correctly. So as I lay down to sleep that night, I prayed that God would make it clear to me that He had indeed provided my answer.

That night I had this dream:

I am driving the highways of the Twin Cities in the Saturn, with Andrew in the backseat. I am frustrated because everywhere we go there is road construction. And every detour requires us to go two steps backward for one step forward. As I start up yet another exit ramp for a detour, I notice a straight shot across the highway and median that would avoid the mess ahead of me. So I back off the side of the exit ramp, slipping in between two of the orange and white pylons to wait for an opening in the traffic. I have to wait for a clear shot across two lanes, the median and then onto the lanes going the opposite direction.

It’s hard to see if the way is clear, but when another car makes the left turn across the median, I race forward and follow it. I make it across to the other side and shoot up a very high ramp, suddenly with no car, no Andrew, just me on my butt. The ramp is narrow, about five feet across and when I look over the side, it sways to that side. I know I can scoot back down, but every movement causes so much sway that I am too terrified to move. I’m at least fifty feet in the air.

I look to my left and there’s a crew working on another ramp perpendicular to the one I’m on, about twenty feet away. I notice one of the workers stretching a white rope diagonally across the end of the ramp to strengthen it. The worker does it in the opposite direction as well, forming an X.

Or a CROSS of white.

The worker, I now see, is Minda.

Attempting to interpret this dream, I draw these conclusions: the confusing, tangled highways I travel represent my life: tangled and confusing, and hard to really get anywhere. I am trying to lead Andrew, as a good father should, but my anger gets the better of me and I make a rash decision, losing him on my mad dash across the highway. By following and trusting someone I don’t know, I squeak through, apparently safe, only to find myself alone and in more danger. And the one who offers me an answer—Jesus, as represented by the white cross—is my helpmate, Minda.

Thank You, Father God for the answer.