CPUnk I write right. Right? Aye.

I had a dream about giving…

So I went to bed last night, upset over how angry, dis­ap­pointed, and
sad Denise was in this sit­u­a­tion… sad about it actually.

Then I had a dream.

In the dream, I was in a very posh semi-Edwardian school, filled with
snobs, young men — all cel­e­brat­ing their “belong­ing” to the elite.  We
were all dressed in white tie and tails, just enjoy­ing the fop­pish­ness
of it all.  We were in large rooms that felt a bit like din­ing halls –
each a great wood-lined room — each room hav­ing a giant fireplace.

The dream made a big deal out of the fact that I knew how the old
fix­tures over the fire­place worked — that I knew how to open a
par­tic­u­lar panel that would allow a screen to be pulled down, if
needed, for pro­ject­ing images or some such thing.  The school groups
never needed to do that — but even though I knew how to pull those
pan­els down — most of them were old and bro­ken — so when I did try to
work with them, I was think­ing that most peo­ple just thought I didn’t
know what I was doing.

I was almost elected to be included in some­thing — but then that part
of the dream was over.

Then, dur­ing a great fes­tiv­ity, they started pass­ing around a large
vel­vet bag — so that peo­ple could put money into it.  The “mas­ter of
cer­e­monies” as it were, sort of a “Head Pre­fect” type of boy (col­lege
age) — was wear­ing some sort of silly hat, and peo­ple were all
cheer­ing and josh­ing as he went around mak­ing com­ments and jokes about
what peo­ple put into the vel­vet bag.

I knew I could put a lot into the bag, but I didn’t have much in my
wal­let.  I could write a check for $1,000, no prob­lem — but I never
carry a checkbook.

The bag was com­ing around my table, peo­ple were all hold­ing up var­i­ous
offer­ings, wav­ing them over their heads in a fun and gay way, while the
MC made jokes and com­ments about each per­son that made every­one laugh.
They had no sense of not enjoy­ing them­selves — but I also knew that
they didn’t like me really — that they didn’t think I should be there
on some level, and were likely just wait­ing to exclude me, because it
was easier.

So I became a lit­tle des­per­ate to put money into this bag… to just
show them that it wasn’t impor­tant, that I could put money in
the bag — that it was ok for them to like me in spite of that, not
because of it — or to dis­like me because I couldn’t … that I got the
joke.  But I had no money — only a lit­tle bit in my wallet.

But when the bag finally reached me, the MC was kind and started
josh­ing me — and I was very upset because I didn’t have any­thing …
or barely any­thing — but I wanted them all to know I could give so
much more … not out of a pride­ful desire to show off — but so that
they’d just like me, and include me …

…so I sud­denly found myself try­ing to explain what I could do
– how I could write a check of just about any size, but I
didn’t have my checkbook…

…but you see, that’s not funny…
…I was ruin­ing the party…
…the MC was embar­rassed for me, tried to just play it off — tried to
basi­cally make it clear to me that all I had to have done was put a few
dol­lars in, that nobody was mea­sur­ing whether I could or not … “oh,
c’mon old boy — haha — just put in a few dol­lars, there’s a lad!” –
that sort of thing…

So I emp­tied what lit­tle I had from my wal­let, but not all of it, just
because I missed a bill or two — I think I left a $10 bill in the
wal­let… and the MC saw that — so now I fig­ured he really did
think I couldn’t afford more than a few dol­lars and he was embar­rassed
that I was being put in this position…

…I found myself run­ning around from din­ner party to din­ner party –
just try­ing to fig­ure out how I could make the money hap­pen and give it
to them… how could I make it happen?

Some­how, I just couldn’t.

I returned to the same din­ing hall, and now the spot­light and the MC
were at a dif­fer­ent table — and Nate was there, with the bag in front
of him… and he looked very upset, frus­trated, embar­rassed,
and angry.

He, too, had no avail­able money to give — and he looked like the
entire thing was just not fair and was mak­ing him angry enough that he
wanted to cry.

I ran up, try­ing to offer it to him from what I had — and reach­ing
into my wal­let, I pulled out a $500 bond that I’d received
(mirac­u­lously) that evening dur­ing some other rich-people games and
awards — some­thing I’d for­got­ten.  It would have been the largest
giv­ing of the evening — or at least way up above every­one else that
was will­ing to judge us incor­rectly — peo­ple who weren’t nec­es­sar­ily
bad peo­ple — but were clearly jump­ing to the wrong con­clu­sions about
me, and now about him… con­clu­sions that didn’t really mat­ter glob­ally
to him at all, but were embar­rass­ing him all the same because
the spot­light was on him.

So I waved the $500 bond above my head and handed it to him, with a big
smile — I could sup­ply him with what he needed … but he was more
ready for the sit­u­a­tion than I was … with the spot­light still on him,
he no longer cared about the peo­ple — no longer cared about the MC or
even the room … see­ing me, he cared about me.

“No, Dad, that’s not nec­es­sary … it’s ok.”, he said to me.
“Oh.”, I thought to myself, proud of him and grate­ful for his
accep­tance of me, his will­ing­ness to ignore this entire thing
rather than make me just throw money away for other people’s opin­ion of
me.

Then I woke up.

————

As wierd as this sounds — I think that in the dream, what I was going
through was what God goes through with us … He runs around being
asked, in a very pub­lic way, to show His Worth to peo­ple who really
don’t deserve to see it — and all He Wants is to ful­fill it so they
will accept Him … but even though He can, there are lim­i­ta­tions –
just like I didn’t have my check­book — He won’t just do things
… in the dream, I couldn’t — in real­ity He won’t…

…and then when He doesn’t, He is judged for it — and the
rela­tion­ship suf­fers… and even though He’s actu­ally some­one worth
know­ing — and Wor­thy of all Praise — the peo­ple of the world are just
embar­rassed around Him, and many actu­ally shun Him because they don’t
under­stand that He actu­ally does have the Worth they’re seeking.

————

…and I guess in the dream, Nate is me … being put on the spot,
because that’s how the world is — but when God gave me the chance to
give the money any­way — Nate said, “No Dad, that’s ok… I love you
any­way, because I know you.  You don’t have to prove any­thing to these
peo­ple for my sake.” — and I loved him for that.

———–

…so when I woke up, real­iz­ing that the dream was very sig­nif­i­cant –
I also real­ized that, if I wanted to, I could give the money to Ath­leon
– it would be ok.  I knew I wanted to clear my head by com­ing to write
this post … and fig­ure out what God was say­ing to me.  So I’m
reply­ing the way Nate did … I don’t have to give the money, Dad,
thanks for lov­ing me — it’s ok.  What these peo­ple think doesn’t
mat­ter com­pared to my rela­tion­ship with you.  Thanks for offer­ing.  I
love you.