The dream...

   I went to Charlotte for business this week. I had the opportunity for a free night out of town, so I thought I'd try to have a little fun. The manager at the hotel, a very nice black man named Fred, suggested I go to the Double doors, a blues club in downtown Charlotte.

   I followed his suggestion. (This part is not the dream, btw). I sat at the bar, had a few beers, watched the band tune in their instruments; adjust the sound board, etc. I was there way too early. By the time people started to show, and the music started, I had a little buzz going. I am a huge fan of live music, even crap live music. I have a little respect for performers, and a huge amount of contempt for their usually perversely enormous egos. I love to watch some ageing, pony tailed, beer gutted singer/ guitar player that is going to make $300 this week strutting around some dump of the bar impressing all the golden girls in their snake skin boots. You go, man. You're the cock of the walk buddy.

   Anyway, the crowd filtered in, and the band got started. It sucked. The music, the crowd, the bar. What a load of crap. The crowd consisted of senior barflies and aging wanna be musicians trying to hook up with them. Then there were the bevy of barely 21 college kids, looking nervous and cliquish and trying to look like almost retired barflies. There was enough snake skin in the place, the crocodile hunter would have shed a tear.

   And I sat at the bar, sucking down canned rolling rocks, and started to do what I almost inevitably start to do in a public setting; Introvert and draw observations. And an old, familiar feeling came to me. I loathe and pity these folks. These bleach blond women trying to look like they are not past their prime and swaying to awful not quite garage band music. The beer gutted, tight pants men, swaggering around looking important and self-righteous. Not one of them with a clue. That 30 something guy that doesn't fit in anywhere, playing with his phone like he has something better to do than to be here. (oh, crap. That might have been me). The early 20 somethings that are there for fresh meat.And man, I was just LOATHING all of it. I didn't want to meet these people. I have known them my entire life. While they are fascinated by smoke filled rooms and filtered light and 2.00 beer night, they have pissed away their entire life on some faux slice of minuscule Hollywood and America, and now that their lives conclude into seniority, they don't even have the self dignity to acknowledge THEY HAVE WASTED THEIR ENTIRE FREAKING EXISTENCE ON DEPRAVED SELF GRATIFICATION AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!!!!!!

   Then a friend of mine texted me:

Friend: Praying for you

Me: Why? What did I do?

Friend: (this is not verbatim) I don't know. What DID you do? (I think the 'this time' was implied)

Me: I don't have it in me to be bad....

So the conversation ran, to the conclusion of, basically, my life ended when Christina's did. I am just a body with an unwilling ghost, basically, fulfilling duty until my time comes, and I can leave this cesspool of a world behind and start MY journey.

   Except, for the day before. Dr. David Jeremiah, on the radio. I haven't been really into exploring God recently. Something about being mad at him, knowing it is wrong, and not caring a whole about being wrong. Just mad.

   Anyway, David Jeremiah was on, and I had just had another all out with God, about his will is his will, but I don't HAVE to like it, and I don't HAVE to live in it, and I have these huge tears streaming down my face, and I am in the middle of nowhere, and I wonder if I die right now, what? and here is David Jeremiah.

   Faith is not about always doing right or being perfect, faith is HAVING FAITH IN GOD'S FAITHFULNESS. Oh crap. I didn't lose faith in God. I knew I was a horrible sinner that deserved death WAY before Christina died. But what he said, it struck a chord. I didn't lose faith in God's promises. They were there, take 'em or leave 'em. I lost faith in God's faithfulness.

   God is faithful. It didn't matter I was shaking in fury and daring him to burn me to a crisp and erase my name from the book of life. It didn't matter I had watched the most beautiful woman I ever met die at 35 in a horrible battle that culminated in my mental disintegration. God is still faithful. And when I heard David Jeremiah say that, I felt God's hand moving inside me. He wasn't angry, he wasn't vengeful; he was waiting on me to finish my rage and anger and accept that Christina died, yes. All people do. But Christina died, and God was faithful to the promises he made. And that is the entire relationship. And for the first time in three and a half months, my mental house was in order.

So, anyway, the band sucked, the bar sucked, the people sucked. I cleared my tab, and headed out the door. Back at the hotel, I knew I was in for a rough night. I'd had a few, and the AC didn't work (crap hotel) and I knew in a few short hours I would wake up hot and hungover and uneasy. But I didn't

   I dreamed, and Christina was there (this IS the dream, and it DID happen). She was beautiful as always, and we played and kissed and talked. And then we just lay there and held each other. And then, I was waking up, and I could feel someone laying there, holding me. I was in a place I have not been in so long. I felt her arms wrapped around me, holding me, comforting me. I knew as I slipped into wakefulness, she would have to go away, and I could not stop it. I awoke, and lay there, and for just a few seconds, her presence lingered in the room with me. I could feel it. And then, I was awake, alone. But not alone. I knew right then, Jesus had been faithful, and Christina was safe, and I have had the first peace that I have had in weeks.

   I know it seems romanticized sappy crap. I am not like that. I could feel it. Physically. Anyway, there it is. My dream, if you will.

   Oh, also, on my way OUT of Charlotte, I pulled over on the interstate. As I left the city, I saw the BIGGEST, MOST BEAUTIFUL, and most complete rainbow I have ever seen. And it was just like a huge billboard in the sky, shamelessly advertising "God is FAITHFUL".

   Thank you, Lord. You have been with me. You are with her. Forgive my insolence and anger. I don't understand your plan, I can't comprehend your will. But you are faithful. Like the Newsboys sing, I surrender all, to the promises you made...