As if We Were Dreaming

Millions of people throughout the world leave home to find work.  They cross borders to live in crowded apartments in a land of strangers.  They slaughter cows, repair roofs, tend children, harvest crops, mow lawns, scrub floors, and empty garbage.  On payday, a line forms to wire money around the world.  Money flows home for a fee, but the worker remains. Home is the dream that returns each night.

Cyrus had a great soul.  The exiled Jewish people were not invisible to him.  He felt their longing and respected their God.  Who knows?  They might return the favor someday.  The exiles, supplied richly, were sent home to rebuild the Temple.

We were like men dreaming.

In the film "Trip to Bountiful," Mother Watts yearned to slip away from Houston to return to her home on the Gulf coast.  The buses and trains no longer stopped there.  Bountiful had slid off the map.  The last resident died alone working her farm.  Nothing grew in the depleted soil except tall grasses whipped by the winds.  By the kindness of strangers, the journey was made.  She shivered in pain and gratitude to lean back against her worn porch rail again.

A dream fulfilled.  But the ruins were not expected.

People of faith cling to the dream.  We depend on the bounty of friends and strangers.  God brings us home in unexpected ways.  Yet the seeds we have carried for so long still stir with life.