Dreams can be awfully revealing. I’ve had a recurring dream over the years that I’ve felt pretty confident of the meaning. When it comes up, I know it’s a sign to slow down and reevaluate my responsibilities and commitments, and see what I can do to lighten my load. Here’s how it goes. In my dream, I’ll find myself driving a truck. But it’s not just any old truck. It has always been one of three trucks…my husband’s truck, my father’s truck or my Suburban, and I just can’t seem to slow it down. It’s not that the brakes go out, it’s that they’re stiff and almost impossible to push to the floor. So, it takes all my strength to barely keep the vehicle under control. Bottom line is, I cannot control this vehicle, and my dire need is to slow down and come to a stop with not only the truck but with whatever’s going on in my life.
Now, when it’s my own vehicle, I know I’m feeling overwhelmed with my duties and responsibilities as a stay at home wife and mother, and I just need a break. When it’s my husband’s truck, I know the two of us need to sit down and consider if my load has stretched beyond my own plate and has started to take on his. And when it’s my father’s truck, I’ve learned to ask God if there’s something I’ve been worrying myself about that’s not my concern, but is His business.
It’s been a good way of keeping me balanced, not overdoing it, and not overstepping my boundaries. But I was somewhat confused with my latest “out-of-control-unable-to-put-on-the-brakes” kind of dream. That’s because in this one, I was driving…an oven.
Yes, that’s right…an oven. Specifically, I was driving a vintage oven. It was definitely something prior to my generation. In fact, I would say it was something right out of the 50’s. Now, it was also the first time that I had this sort of dream where I wasn’t alone in the dream. I had two of my four kids with me.
So here we were. I had with me my oldest child, my 19 year old daughter and my youngest child, my 7 year old son. We were all standing on some sort of platform that extended out from the back of the oven and we were soaring down the highway. My oven was getting faster and faster and I just could not slow it down.
So I voiced my panic, which I had never done before since in previous dreams, I was always by myself. And my daughter responded. She responded by saying, “Let me take the wheel!” And for some strange reason, I didn’t argue with her. I just leaned over still bracing myself and pushing on the brake with all my strength while she reached over and steered. And steer she did…she steered us right off the highway, through some bushes, and into a junkyard.
We were going so fast and we were so out of control, we hit something that made us launch and fly through the air like the General Lee from the Dukes of Hazard with the three of our voices harmonizing together with cries of despair. But praise God, we did not crash and burn, but instead landed in a cushiony pile of car seats. The moment we came to a halt, I was flooded with relief and gratefulness to my daughter who had saved us. All I could say was, “You did it!” And the three of us got up and dusted ourselves off.
As we walked away, leaving our oven vehicle behind us in the junkyard, we noticed some people standing nearby staring at our scene in disbelief, to whom my daughter spoke, “Oh, that’s our grandpa’s.” She was referring to the oven car. Then one of them, looking impressed, said back to her, “Looks like it cost a pretty penny!” Without missing a beat, she answered, “Ya, at one time!”
Wow! This was not my typical dream. How am I supposed to make sense of this? Where do I even begin? OK, first of all, why did I not have my two middle children with me? Well, now that I think about it, that would be a disaster! My 10 and 13 year old? The ones who fight all the time? Sneaking around… making me feel like it’s them against me? Oh right! Now, I know why they weren’t there. As I said, it would’ve been disastrous.
Come to think about it, I used to find some relief by buckling those two into the car just to gain a little edge over them. I must be longing for those days when they were younger and I did have a little more control. Well, that makes sense since we weren’t even sitting in seats but were hanging on for dear life standing on a platform. It was the cushiony car seats that broke our fall and saved our lives in the junkyard. But those seats were in the junkyard and we did leave them behind.
I suppose I need to let go of that desire to go back to the days when my boys were controlled by seatbelts. But the truth is, it’s a little panicky to just accept things the way they are. OK, here’s a thought…my daughter and I were once at that place where I felt like we were enemies, but now I trust her…apparently, enough to let her steer an out of control oven. And here’s another thing, when it seemed at first that letting go was a bad idea, it all turned out just fine in the end landing on a pile of car seats.
This truly is about letting go…letting go of the past and the junk…letting go of control. Hmmm, maybe God was in this dream after all. Let’s see…I had the oldest and the youngest with me…the beginning and the end, and I handed over the steering wheel to one of them…kind of sounds like a country song I know.
Now, I’m not quite sure why I was driving a 1950’s oven to which my daughter referred to as “our grandpa’s.” But I will say this…dear old Papa had been a mechanic all his life since he was a boy, and he could probably make anything driveable. Also, the oven did resemble GG’s old oven. And, oh that’s right, that observer in the junkyard did seem to have somewhat of an Oklahoma accent when he said, “Looks like it cost a pretty penny.” (That’s where GG and Papa were from, Oklahoma.)
You know, it seems like that little conversation was referring to worth. At one time, the old way of doing things had a lot of worth and a lot of results. Being a stay at home mom feels like it’s out of date, yet I know it still has worth. But are there still results? I believe I’ve seen some good results with my daughter. Now with my youngest being only 7, I still have a lot of years of work before I’m done. And not only do I stay at home, but I homeschool, so sometimes I wonder what would happen if I gave up, put them in public school, and went back to work.
Well, there was one more part to my dream that I neglected to mention. As we were walking away from the scene of the accident, I heard a voice say, “Quick, say a rhyme!” So I did, and my rhyme ended with the line, “It’s all bad, there is no hope, hickory dickory dock!” (Don’t ask me about the hickory dickory dock part…random things pop up in dreams.) But what I just could not believe were the other words that came out of my mouth…no hope. No hope? Unfortunately, I was woken up before I could go any further in my dream.
Now, it’s one thing to let go of control and walk away from the past, but if I were to walk away from the old way of doing things and just give up, I just might lose hope because I would be going outside of God’s will for my children. I can’t do that.
I wonder…if I would’ve finished my dream, would that old Okie-accented observer in the junkyard have told me to not walk away and to not give up hope, but to just let God take control. At least when He does take over, I know I’ll have a soft landing. (Sigh) I guess I’d better go. I have a lot to do. I need to run some errands in my 2005 GE oven…hickory…dickory…dock….
For God speaks time and again, but a person may not notice it. In a dream, a vision in the night, when deep sleep falls on people as they slumber on their beds… Job 33:14-15
Written by Amie Spruiell
To this very day, I still have an indentation on my shin from that fall. What is far more important than that, though, is that I now have an impression on my heart. I have an impression that won’t go away. I pray that it will always be there, to remind me of why the Lord came. He came to seek and save those who were lost. That is why we are here, to spread the good news, to reach out to others that are lost and falling. We have been shown the way to salvation, and now we must share it with others.
