When the Father decides to send messages to people here on Earth, sometimes He uses the most unorthodox messengers and methods.
The sticky note on my bedside table read, “barn, family, love.” The previous night I dreamed I was sitting in a massive barn on a big ranch. I was watching a family gathering, lots of people sitting on the fence rails of horse stalls or on hay bales nearby. Everyone was laughing and having a great time. The patriarch of the family sat on a big painted horse, reminding me of John Wayne riding his trusting steed.
He dismounted and handed the reins to a young lad, asking him to tend to the horse. While scanning the many members of his family, he remarked to the young boy with the reins, “I sure miss Chet. I wish he could be here but he had a concert today and couldn’t make the travel connections work during his tour.” The patriarch went on and on about how much he loved his son, Chet and how proud he was of him for following his passions for music and performance.
What a strange dream. It had no connection to anything in my personal life. I did not recognize any of the physical surroundings or any of the people—that is, until a few weeks later…
Occasionally I travel for work. In this case, I was in Nashville meeting with a music group interested in my company doing some financial advisory work for them. Because all of our advisory work is relational, I went to visit the principles of the group in their homes. One family I visited welcomed me into their living room, escorted by two children. They brought me a lemonade and said, “Mom and Dad will be right down.” I was wandering around the room, looking at the artwork and enjoying the hospitality—there was a wonderful feel to this home. I wandered over to the bookcase to see a large family photo. In it were all the people from my dream, plus two.
The photo was taken out at a ranch, with all the people sitting in jeans and shirts with hats and scarves; looking exactly like something Norman Rockwell would have painted. Around the corner walked the plus two, Chet and Janet—soon to be clients and good friends. We had our meeting, drank lemonade, and had an enjoyable commercial engagement. When the shop talk was through, I asked about the photo on the bookcase.
Chet gestured rather forlornly toward the bookcase and said, “That was the last family reunion I attended. The picture was taken out at the family ranch on the fourth of July. My father has been dead now for many years. He always wanted me to take over the ranch; keeping it in the family to work it as he did. But I always felt my calling was in music, especially music performance.”
I then told Chet I had already met everyone in that photo, except for him and Janet. I said, “I had a dream about your family a few weeks back.” A Bubble of the Kingdom of Heaven inflated as I told Chet how his father had gone on and on about him and how proud he was about him accepting his calling as a musician. Chet gradually came apart.
I learned that his father was never able to say that to Chet while he was alive. The Bubble lasted a long time; long enough for us to discuss what a Bubble of Heaven was. The Kingdom of Heaven is closer than we think!