You may say I'm a dreamer...but I am not the only one

Ian,

Had a dream about you quite recently. Only the third since you went Home. This dream was different than the others, different than my normal dreams - more tangible, archetypal, and felt as if I was living it, not dreaming it. My normal experience is to forget a dream in minutes once morning comes. I can scarcely recall really any dream I have had. But this one felt real - sticking with me for more than a month. I need to tell you about it. 

Our family, the five of us, went on a camping trip like we did often in California. But this time there was much more hiking involved. We headed for a destination - that was for sure. But what or where the destination was - this was not clear. We hiked up a valley where a mountain range split the valley in two - a picture taken in New Zealand when Mom and I were there illustrates the setting somewhat.

Mom, Danny, Caylea and I kept hiking up the right side of the valley. Soon we realized that you did not follow our path. We could not see you. We lost you, Ian. We looked all over the campsite, through the trees, around the rocks and snow and could not find you anywhere. Panic set in; fear and sadness of loss gripped each of us. We had lost Ian!!!

I set out back down the valley to the point of the "V" where the mountain split the valley. I then headed up the other path, the one to the left. I hiked for a while through snow and rocky terrain looking everywhere for signs of you.

After a while I saw smoke coming from ahead. As I closed in on an apparent campsite, I saw two people there - one person seated and a larger person standing. As I entered the campsite, you leapt up from your seat and ran and embraced me in one of your patented bear hugs. I wept, laughed and cried out "I found Ian!!!"

It was then the second person at the campsite came into focus. Indeed, it was an older, large man who approached. He had long white/grey hair and a mid-length beard below his chin - longer than mine, but not as long as Santa's in our pictures. He reassured me that you were not lost. You had joined his party and were traveling through this valley on another path - we would meet up at the summit where the valley path's reconnect. He assured me that we would be reunited as a family. I was thrilled, ecstatic beyond words with this joyous news. I hugged you, Ian, so tightly. Your hair obscured my vision to glimpse your full face and your beard scratched at my face as we embraced. It was indeed you, Ian, and you had been on this hike without a shave or haircut for a while.

I told you and the older man that I was going back to our family - I had to tell Mom, Danny and Caylea that I had found you. My dream continued as I ran with great endurance back down the pathway on the left of the mountain and then pivoted to sprint up the path on the right. It seemed to take no energy to run; I was carried by joy.

I came upon our camp, the family waiting for my return. The air split with my call's as I approached at speed, "I found Ian!! I found Ian!!!" Mom, Danny and Caylea leapt from their camp seats by the fire and ran to me. We embraced, wept and laughed for relief and joy. Ian had been found! I told the story of the finding the left path, seeing the campsite and hugging you, Ian. I told of the old man who was guiding you along the left pathway and his assurances that our paths would meet at our destination.

We packed up camp, and quickly set out - up the mountain trail to meet you where our paths would meet again. I am not sure of our destination, but another picture from New Zealand illustrates the impression left on me - of the trails leading to an ultimate destination, such as a great mountain like Mount Cook. Emotionally, I knew our destination - to be five again, a family once again complete. The dream ended with each of us on our independent paths headed to a mutual destination.

So what does all this mean? Is this merely a brain fart, blowing off old images and deep longings? Is it a collection of memories linked together by hope? Or is it prophetic or symbolic? Could it be a revelation of meaning behind great tragedy and the promise for reconciliation? I have no certain answers. All I know is that it was a powerful, concrete and tantalizingly provocative. It sticks with me.

I am not the only one to have such dreams rich in imagery, feelings of reality and hopeful in meaning about you and where you are now. Mom wrote about her dreams, especially of her meeting you in your heavenly home, in her blog. Many of your friends have reported deeply meaningful and engaging dreams of you in Facebook posts. I am clearly late to the party as a "dreamer" - but I am not the only one.

The dream makes me anxious for our paths to converge. I am reminded of the uncomfortable, in-between-ness of faith and hope. We know the promises, but we live in a reality somewhat short of them. As said of Abraham, "By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God." Heb. 11:9-10.

Abraham and generations after him knew that the land they lived in was theirs by promise of God, but they did not possess it with permanence. They had to live in tents moving from place to place over time. The "waiting is the hardest part." They wanted a solid, lasting foundation - not just shelter - a city that would last; one built by God. We likewise are awaiting the promises of God - of return, reunion, and full eternal life. In this earthly path we hike, it seems like we continue to live in tents, living in a tent of a body, and everything seems a bit hollow with you not here. We yearn for a city with a foundation, a heavenly dwelling, where we will rest together. God grant us the faith to walk by faith, living in tents as we await His promises to be fully fulfilled.

I will choose to be thankful for this dream and hopeful about its meaning. The imagery of paths once diverged reuniting again is my hope and prayer. I look forward each day to that time when our pathways do meet again and we embrace again.

Until then, I love and miss you,

Dad