I’ve always loved listening to the convoluted accounts of people’s dreams. Most don’t make any sense, a sound-asleep brain making mishmash of daytime details, but it’s fun to pluck out bits of authenticity.

A crystal clear dream I had last night has dominated my thoughts all day. I was crossing the Atlantic on a big jet headed for Chicago. Midway across (i.e. 2000 miles from land) the plane poofed into oblivion. There was no violent explosion, just a disappearance.

Other passengers vanished, too, and I was left flying along in a summer sundress, high in the sky. Looking down at the ocean, I knew I was going to end up there eventually and wondered if the water was cold. But flying was glorious, generating a thrill similar to parachuting for the first time. I spread-eagled my arms, closed my eyes and hoped to stay airborne for many miles.

Every so often I looked down, but the water was still far away, and I told myself, “This experience is the highlight of my life!”

Gradually the ocean loomed larger, but I had no fear. Waves were small, almost non-existent, reminding me of the Titanic movie and a quote from the crow’s nest that night: “It’s a veritable pond!”

Finally I landed in the water, which was bright blue and delightfully warm. It felt good, and after surfacing, I rolled on my back in a floating position. Looking at the high clouds, I wondered which way to Chicago. Without the sun it was hard to tell. But I’ve always loved to swim and turned over to begin a gentle crawl stroke. It occurred to me 2000 miles was farther than I’d swum before, actually farther than anyone had. So I went back to floating.

A plane flew overhead, miles above, but I knew I was just a speck from that height and didn’t even wave. I began wondering what would happen to me. I knew sharks loved warm water and thought I might be gobbled up, but that didn’t seem worrisome.

Looking at the sky, I was thankful for the clouds, a protection from sunburn. But one concern, though not a big one, was my lack of drinking water. Could I make it to the US without getting thirsty? Deciding to hurry, I resumed my crawl stroke in earnest, but this time my head seemed too heavy to lift out of the water. I abruptly woke up, my head in the air.

Bothered by the dream all day, I asked God what, if anything, he wanted me to learn. To be cautious about risk-taking? To plan ahead better? To pay attention to danger signals? To seek his help before trying to go it alone?

In the end I decided his only message was, “Don’t eat a big dinner after midnight.”

“The fruit of the Spirit is… self-control. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.” (Galatians 5:22-25)