My Story #53

 

Dream, Disaster, And Delight

Dream

Dreams seemed to be a pattern in my life as in my mother's. Some of these dreams seemed to come true. One dream I shall never forget if I live to be 1,000 years old.

Before I was married, I lived with my mother for about two years after my father died. While living there, a small boy named David was our next-door neighbor. He and I became friends, and he came to my mother's house almost every day to be with us. Sometimes he would eat with us, and once in a while he would stay all night.

One night, after I had married, I dreamed that he drowned. There was an old cistern at our barn, which no one used anymore, and I dreamed that he drowned in that cistern. As we all looked into the cistern after he fell in, I noticed that bubbles kept coming up so that we could not find him. Over and over again this effervescence came up, hiding the whereabouts of David.

When I awoke from the dream, I had a sad feeling, but I knew it was only a dream. The next time I saw David, I told him about the dream, and we laughed. I also told my wife but no one else.

Disaster

Time went on for about a month; and, to make a long story short, my wife and I discovered that the boy had drowned in a creek below my mother's house. This was so sad for me and my wife. Those searching for David's body did not find it for 28 days, and I went to the coroner's office to identify David, because the family did not want to see him like that.

Delight

The funeral director could not open the casket; it was closed at the funeral. I preached the funeral. This was one of the hardest funerals I have ever had to officiate. But, during the message of the gospel at that funeral, a young girl was saved by God's grace. That was a great delight.

When my second son was born, I gave him the middle name of David, after this boy. Fortunately, I took a very good picture of David before his death, and I still have an 8x10 of him. Every time I go to the cemetery where this boy is buried, I have to go to his grave and honor the memory that God gave me of this young man. He was eleven years old.

P. S. After this affair, I spoke to my mother about our dreams and made a covenant with her that we would ask God to take away these dreams, and the Lord did just that. God is SO good!