Something about Gold and Dreams

Something About Gold and Dreams
I woke with a heavy heart,
For, once I fell asleep
I dreamed of children finding gold
And hiding it to keep.
I placed their rocks so carefully
Into a hiding place,
And made the gold a secret
So they could keep it safe.
I told them each, "Don’t tell a soul
For they might come to see.
The treasure that we’ve hidden here
Could be removed by thieves!"
"But what good will it do us there?"
One innocent inquired.
"If we cannot enjoy the gold
Has not the theft transpired?"



© Elizabeth Walker 2009


The truth is, I did dream about gold last night.
I fell asleep with a heavy heart. I was, and have many times gotten so wrapped up in circumstances, whether they be obvious to others or entirely hidden inside of me, that I can’t see the solution even if it is directly in front of me. Though some people may question it (feel free to comment) God has brought answers to me in my dreams before. Profound, unmistakable answers. No, it doesn’t happen often… but, sometimes I wake up from a dream with an image that won’t erase…and sometimes it turns out to be an unmistakable answer – or gift.
Well, usually those dreams come only when I don’t ask – and they surprise me. Last night, though, I asked.
All day my frustration in trying to get book reviews, trying to find out how in the world to get "internet presence" for the gazillionth time, trying to find a way to pay for publicity since I am an internet MORON and can’t seem to create it on my own - I had decided in a fit of confusion that I was simply going to put this book down. I felt tired of hitting walls in trying to contact the media – who only wants to be contacted by professionals – who don’t want to talk to me unless a different professional has told them that I am a professional. Tired of the roller coaster of watching sales rise and fall, rise and fall, (but never rising much) tired of people that I consider influential saying they will do one thing or another for the book, and then never being able to find the time to help because they actually are professionals and they are friggen busy!! (That is not a statement against them – I most certainly do not expect my priorities to take precedence over theirs. Please don’t misunderstand.) I am not a sales person! Never was. Hate it, actually. The events that I have managed to set up thus far are miracles in themselves. Often, I look for contacts intending to make sales, and end up finding more people who I feel can benefit from the book and instead of selling one, I give a bunch away. All the while, I have a regular job that I work during the most productive hours of the week, Kids’ soccer practice three times a week – games once a week, boy scouts once a week, a middle school concert next Tuesday, etc.
In frustration over sales and publicity (or lack there of), and a few other things, I cried all the way home from work. I dried up long enough to rush a kid to soccer practice then cried in the car while he practiced. I dried up again before he had the chance to see me. Finally, I closed by telling God " You know what God, this project was supposed to be joyful, and make more time for my family not less. So, here – you have it. If it sells it sells, if it doesn’t…what the hell, I gave it my best!"
The night rushed by as usual.
Once the four of my kiddos were settled and snug in their beds (takes a while), I went to bed too, toting the remnants of the headache that I had caused by crying my little baby head off!
That’s when I said, "God, I‘m terrible at hearing you sometimes. I get so confused that I just miss it entirely. So please, tell me what you want me to do. Tell me LOUD and CLEAR so I don’t mess up!"
Off to sleep I fell and I mean it! I did not drift off to sleep, I fell. Just like I do when I trip over my own feet (often), one moment I’m there and the next…..I’m down.
When I first woke up I thought, " what in the @#$$% was that?"
In the dream, one of my children came to me with buckets of gold rocks. Big gold rocks! He brought it to me with his face beaming! He wanted to share it with all of us, so I went to the store and bought big containers with lids. I separated the golden stones into the four containers equally, one for each child, then I closed them up and hid the gold. I told them. We’ll leave it here. Don’t tell anyone! Some one might steal it.
One of my children (the one who most often questions me) say’s, "But if we keep it there, it will be just like it was before we found it. Like we never had it at all."
Then – the dream ended. I woke up feeling just as heavy in my heart as I had when I fell asleep – with no answer to my tearful prayer.
Or was there?
I decided, out of a desire to teach my children about healing and compassion, to present this treasure of hope to any heart that would receive it; To help people heal, to help them realize that God is not this menacing presence looming over us, toying with us when ever we step out of the lines, but that He is an active contributor to the mending of our scraped up spirits when we fall down. Whether we fell because someone pushed us, because we lost our footing all on our own, or both (which is often the case, isn’t it?). And you know what, that hasn’t changed.
What good is a treasure if you never see the benefits because you’ve hidden it away? If it remains hidden forever, was there ever a treasure, or is it worth little more than the dirt that buries it?
I won’t bury it. It was buried for too long. I’m gonna let it shine.

The Tablet of My Heart by Elizabeth Walker is Available. Get you copy today!