We can tell ...but, are we telling it as we see it? And are we seeing it as it is??

Yes, we often can't grasp the big picture ...simply because we are looking at only what comes into our immediate view, or that which is introduced into our minds for the time.

Yet, sometimes we look at the big picture and still don't understand.  It may be during those times that we should take our minds off that which we are not quite yet prepared to deal with ...and attempt to appreciate and be content with what is solidly before us.

Well, enough about forests and trees ...how about the absence of trees, or any vegetation for that matter. 

An endless wandering across hot desert sands.

No end in sight ...and worse yet, no water.

Or is there?  Could it be??  I want it to be ...but, does

my desperate wanting bring me any closer to reality?

Perhaps it is just a mirage ...what I want to see.  

But, now I miss what I'd convinced myself that I never would.  I do not like the scorching heat, yet a little warmth would be welcome now ...as I'm about to freeze.  My tongue is cooled ...but, I can't feel my hands or my toes.  

And soon I will feel nothing. 

Okay, now the snow melts ...but, I didn't know it was so deep. Who'd believe I'd soon be drowning??  I wanted water, and a little warmth ...but, I think I'm ready to admit I don't really know what is best for me.  

Yes, I've gotten myself into some deep dilemma here!! 

I'm raising my hand to acknowledge that I give up!! 

Yes, it is hard to admit, but I need help. 

Correction ...I need saving!!

So much for that sequence of thoughts.  Maybe the heat got to me. Actually, we are in a desert ...we've always been in a desert, stretching for miles and miles in every direction. We don't travel too far ...never have. Why??  Because we've found an oasis.  Not a mirage, but a real source of water.  Not much water ...but, just enough.  A satisfactory amount to survive ...and that is what life is about.

It's hard to imagine a small stream ...not to mention a lake.  Yes, a lake must be a fantasy ...the fancy of outlandish minds.  They call themselves creative thinkers, but we call it insanity ...howbeit, a pleasant fantasy.

Someone described an ocean once ...more far-reaching than the desert sands. And it has been told there are four or five of these oceans ...all connected to each other, and enough to drown all the desert sands.

No person  would claim that sort of insanity ...how can anything be any bigger than the sand and the sky??

I like to watch the bugs ...they fascinate me. Though I know they bug most people.

I feel I'm much like the bug.  The bug lives in its limited world, and I can see all of its activity.  I sometimes wonder if ...and who watches me?

Mom doesn't like it when I study the bugs ...especially the ones she calls flies. They mostly live in the area we visit a couple times each day ...sometimes more often, depending on how many leaves we eat. Dad says the flies come from what comes out of us, and he says that we probably somehow came from the flies. Mom says we got contaminated by what the flies get their feet in, and that our brains are full of it too. I wanted to ask, "How can we come from something that comes from something that comes from us?"  I can't quite follow her on that one, but I know that if Mom doesn't seem to make sense, I can't ignore the fact that she makes dinner. 

I try to keep quiet, so I can keep full.  Not much you can do with just leaves, but Mom does better than either Dad or me. I would never challenge Mom on how she prepares the meals, but I somehow suspect she adds some flies.  She made up this strange word, called protein, and says I need some.

Dad says he was there when I was born ...and insists that he is right. But, Mom still insists that isn't true ...that I didn't come from the same place.  Mom says Dad does not know squat ...and that was not my born position.  

Dad laughs ...saying Mom insists she came from a rib. He said Mom listened to Great Great Grandma, whom he says got crazier before she died.  What Dad thought was crazy, was that Mom had begun to listen to Great Great Grandma. Crazy old Grandma had said she'd been the only old person to survive a crash.  And she'd said they had all flown into this desert, and the desert sands blew over everything, covering the evidence.  Dad said the only evidence was that she was crazy.

I kind of have my own idea ...but, my head hurts when I think too hard.  I see it differently, because I have a logical mind.  Instead of us coming from flies, it makes sense that flies come from us ...since they appear on the stuff that comes from us.  And they must be more advanced ...since I could never dream of flying, nor am I as efficient with my other activities.  The flies have so much energy, but on occasion I get tired ...and have to sit down, or squat.

Don't get me wrong ...Mom does really love Dad. She just feels he limits himself by what he sees ...yet, sometimes she says that works out better. 

By that ...you may think I'm not using my logical mind.  Yet, logically, if  flies come from us squatting ...and that foul smelling substance comes from us, then flies come from us.  We must be the center of life.  But, Mom says I came from a womb, technically hers, and not from what Dad says ...excrement.

It's possible that Mom could be right ...as Mom always smiles when she looks at me, and Dad often frowns and wrinkles his nose.

Mom says Dad has a difficult time looking beyond the oasis ...but, that's because he thinks all looking is done through the eyes.  Mom says a person doesn't have to see only that which is near to him ...but can see with their mind, or as she says, her heart.

Mom has told Dad before ...that it doesn't mean that she wants to leave the oasis. She is afraid just like he is ...to leave the water, their source of life.  But, it doesn't hurt to think beyond oneself.

Mom dreams ...and Dad doesn't like that.  He says it is not practical.  How can we believe that there is wonder and beauty ...when all we see is sand?

Mom says she dreams of oceans of water and glorious lush things to eat that grow among leaves.

Dad says all he has ever seen is leaves ...and more leaves. He also says that if there is a glorious Person who gives her dreams of oceans and lush fruit ...then why doesn't this Person give them endless waters and plentiful fruit?

Mom often says, "We have to be where we are, before we will be where we will be."

Dad says, "I can no longer stand by and let you fill our son with all those insane thoughts and empty dreams."

Mom: "If we came from a fly, as you say, when did we lose the ability to fly? And if a fly came from us, clearly it is more advanced than we are.  Yet, I'd think that any creature that spends much of the day around a dunghill isn't an advanced species by my way of thinking.  But, isn't that precisely what our son is doing ...spending his days being fascinated by flies, and staring at dung?"

Dad: "I agree that our son must be taught things ...but, I came up with my ideas first. That should qualify me as the primary teacher."

Mom: "Well, by all means then ...go join our son, since you can claim squatter's rights." 

She didn't mean to make him mad ...but, she knew he was.  She was not happy when he was not happy.  It was just the way it was with her ...the way she felt it was supposed to be.  She imagined it was supposed to be the other way around too, but it was not the driving force within her to demand she be made happy.  She wants to please him ...and yes, though she often fails, she can't help that, really.  

And she couldn't help the nightmare she had that night either.  The nightmare he probably would have just found funny, but there was also a dreamy part of it.  She didn't want to share that part with Dad, but she had to share it with someone ...so, without much thought put into it, she shared it with me.

She saw the ocean again, meeting the sand ...and a creature that she had never seen before.  Then she saw an image of herself at the same place ...yet, much nearer and touching the water. She was not pleased with the uncomfortable position she was in, though she did say she attempted to grin and bear it.

I love Mom ...she is so beautiful to me, certainly more beautiful than Dad.  This is a wonderful image to me, though somehow I feel I am invading her privacy. It's some sort of weird garb she described to me ...and she is glad I was not in the dream to see this strange pleasurable squatting.

"Son, I don't want you to think I too am into some sort of worship over things of strange nature and base beginnings.  Necessity is not always the mother of invention ...yet, there are times everyone does find it necessary to squat. Just don't draw attention to it!" This is what she told me ...and she is convinced it had some significance.

Mom has her doubts.  She apologizes, as she had never intended to share it with me.  She resolves never to share it with me again, yet she's eager to share something else with me.  After asking me to close my eyes, she asks me to imagine as she describes the pleasant dream she'd had. She recalls the dream where things did not evolve from base beginnings.  Things began with splendid wonder.  But, there was a sense of lack of appreciation for what was ...and a view that things could be different.  Not always a bad thing, unless it is achieved through taking away from some ...usually to merely benefit a selfish desire of another.

Obtaining more should not come about through expecting others to accept less ...and certainly should not be achieved through deception, nor through force.

In the dream, when this happened, all the splendor disappeared ...or at least it appeared to.  It was hard to tell because everything was dark.  There was violence ...and then it became dark.

At this point, I didn't even realize that Mom had left ...to allow me to dream on my own, or if not on my own, for the dream to take over in my own mind.

A sense of who I am ...is in the dream. I am siding with those whom violence was done against.  The violence certainly was countering the splendor ...and I did not want the splendor to be lost, or cease to exist.  What madness would it be for a new order to rule the ruin??

Then a vision comes ...and we are no longer in darkness.  I sing along with the much singing.  Though the darkness does not disappear entirely, it is separated by intervals. And each time the vision returns, it is no longer dark for that interval, and something splendid returns.  Not the same, but nonetheless ...splendid.  And each time we sing ...we celebrate the gift of each day.

Something else happens too.  We not only begin to trust the interval ---knowing that when it becomes dark, that the light will return on schedule ---but, we also begin to trust that there is peace and hope beyond just trusting the cycle.  We just know their is a glorious Person behind our salvation from the darkness ...and those who sing testify to that fact.

When I wake up ...I know that dream had great meaning. There is no way I am going to believe that life comes from something as lifeless as hot barren desert sand ...that kind of belief cannot be true. Nor can I then ignore and somehow attempt to formulate beliefs counter to what I believe...that a somehow unimaginable non-life can become living.  It would be not that much different than staring at that dunghill and expecting great things to happen.

No wonder people become so despondent. We need to rely a little less on our prideful knowledge, and follow a little more wisdom.

Or humble ourselves, not to the extent of squatting, but in realizing our worth in His eyes ...as even the common shepherd could see.

How can so many of us be so full of lack ...that we readily would defend a dunghill??  And at the same time, we often denounce the glorious majesty of our Lord, Jesus ...who came to save us.