Highway companion - July 15
Not long ago I had one of those dreams. In this dream, to the best of my recollection, we were driving an old Oldsmobile, perhaps a Delta or Jetstar in the mid-60s vintage. It was a big old boat, dark blue with four doors, a sprawling hood, big fenders and lots of chrome inside and out. I was driving, although we were not on the Goat Trail. This was a highway in the sky, smooth like a baby’s bum. Billowing clouds were all around us as we were cruising along. We may have been smoking cigars, herbs, who knows as the cab seemed smokey like an old blues bar. At any rate I don’t recall the passengers other than the fellow in the back seat. The passenger in the back, on the right hand side was Jesus. He was just hanging with us. He seemed quite comfortable with me as the charioteer. We must have chatted, had a visit and were obviously comfortable with one another. After a period of time an off ramp came into view. I knew this was the transition zone – you could just drop out of the sky into Ministikwan Lake or get on the long curving off ramp. With my arm draped along the front bench seat I looked back and asked Jesus if he had this under control. He never spoke a word. Instead he just made a gesture, like a couple would after spending years together, there were no need for words as you already knew the answer and that was it, once on the ramp the dream was up. The images, thoughts and emotions that occur while dreaming are sometimes regarded as communication with God. Isn’t it coincidental that on many occasions God reveals himself in the clouds, as he did with Moses or the Israelites. It’s interesting the Bible has many references to the Divine in the clouds. I have a history with the Catholic Church. From the young age of four years I started serving Sunday Mass when the bulk of the congregation was off to summer camp at Crow Lake Ontario. At that time we still served mass in Latin. Although today I may have strayed from the Church, I still maintain my faith. Perhaps faith is the significance of this dream. I have racked my brain looking for other answers and the only slight similarity I came up with was at about 15 years old after a gathering in Batawa, Ontario late in the evening or morning someone had the idea we drive to Ottawa. Jimmy had an old black Pontiac – another big old boat. Well, we got going and it was over 200 miles. As we were travelling up Highway 7 Jimmy took on a new personality, similar to someone who should never drink whisky. He started power sliding from one side of the road to the other. In Ontario there were no paved shoulders, once passed the outside line it was loose gravel. Each time we skidded sideways in the gravel we would catapult to the other side on what seemed like two wheels and do the same in the other direction. Apparently Jimmy was the only one having fun. It’s a wonder we didn’t become a rolling pin and some poor soul got the task of scraping us up off the pavement. Somewhere around Perth after much heated insistence he let me out in the early dawn, only to hitchhike back in the direction I had just come. I was glad to have both feet on the ground. Perhaps that was another day of prayers and faith as in the dream. One thing we know is that Ministikwan Lake is a special place. |
