The Ice Dream

There are some dreams that last forever in my mind. Dreams that have stayed over the years, originating in my little girl innocence and popping back up at the most random times. Sometimes my dreams are just weird or silly or based on some event I experienced the day before. Some are profound. Some cause me to wake drenched in the sweat of fear and stress. But a blessed few fill me with such peace that they paint pictures of serenity that I long to hold onto forever.

I have this one dream memory that reappears every year. I can see it so clearly. It’s mystical, really. Magical. Tangible, even. Imagine my little girl joy as I walked down the stairs of our old farmhouse, freshly awake from my attic bedroom, expecting to see our Christmas morning in the earliness of the day before my sister and parents awoke. One quiet step after another, until I reached the bottom and opened the old wooden door to a vision unlike anything I’d ever seen before – an icy wonderland so pure and present that it left me breathless with awe and literally frozen in place while I took it all in.

Smooth, crystal ice everywhere. Clear, glass-like floors and walls, everything that I thought I knew now pure and translucent with the most beautiful white-blue hues coloring the world inside our home and through the windows into the landscape beyond.

It’s just that one view – standing in the doorway of the stairs, seeing everything completely transformed, magnificent, delighting me so deeply that I could only stand and stare in wonder.

Such a vivid image.

Such a question in my mind of how it could be so important that it remains with me always.

And a glimmer of understanding as I stand in the doorway of this Christmas season, expecting to see the normal world of chaos and movement and tradition and busyness.

Because maybe, for the first time ever, I am understanding this visual gift God gave me so long ago. Maybe He is transforming my world to one that is magical and pure and unlike anything experienced in my normal physical realm. And He’s just waiting for me to walk down the stairs and see the unseen – His artistry at work, painting everything in a new light – one that is pure and innocent and so fresh from His hand that it leaves me breathless, frozen in place, staring in wonder as I take it all in.

His majesty. His grace. His kindness and delight in capturing the essence of this soul He gave me with the very beauty of the One who made me.

I can scarcely take it in. But it’s a vivid image.

And I hope it lasts forever.