Somewhere
on the edge of a Turkish village, a man in his woke up, wiped the last of the
sleep from his eyes, and shook his head in wonder and amazement. Dawn had
hardly come to the hills when he stepped across the threshold of his room and felt
for his shoes in the dusty light. Again he shook his head as though to clear
the remnants of the dream from it. The dream had been so real, so commanding
that he, an adult, was shaken by it and was on his way to discuss it with his
father.
In
spite of the early hour, the old man was not alone. A number of men from the
village were congregated in his room. The newcomer greeted the old man
respectfully and then greeted the others, all of whom looked thoughtful and sat
in silence.
The
old man looked at his son and said, “What is it, my son?”
The
young man looked hesitant for a moment and then said quietly and respectfully,
“My father, I have come to you this morning for some advice. You see, I have had
a dream.”
A
murmur ran through the room. He stopped. “What is it, my father? Is something
wrong?”
The
old man held up a hand which silenced the group, “Go on.”
The
young man began again and recounted his dream. “In my dream, somebody told me
that I should go to a tree between two certain towns and wait. There I was told
that someone would bring a Book that would explain to me the Way, the Truth,
and the Life. It was a very clear dream, almost like I was commanded to go. I
was coming to you for advice.”
Expressions of amazement and wonder rippled through the room. When
the sound of the men’s voices faded away again, the old man looked at his son
and said, “Something has happened in the night. All of us have had the same
dream you have shared. Men,” and the old man looked around the room, “we need
to discuss what action we are going to take. Let’s call all the men together to
take council in this. We cannot ignore this dream. It could be that the Creator
God wants to speak to us about this Way, this Truth, and this Life that we know
nothing of.”
The
men dispersed. Across the village, the atmosphere was nearly electric with the
wonder and excitement of the night’s happening, for every man had had the same
dream.
The
council was called, the dream recounted and discussed, and the decision was finalized
to send two men to the tree. The old chieftain said, “It is a long journey, so
we need to choose men who are willing to suffer the hardships of travel.”
A
delegation was chosen and commissioned by the old man, “Go! Go to the tree in
our dreams. Bring back the Book and inform us about the Way, the Truth, and the
Life.”
The
men were anxious to begin their journey, as strange as it was, and lost no time
in preparation. Before the first rays of
light had dawned on the new day, they had bid farewell to their village and
began the journey. The shortest way to the tree of their destination was a
several days’ journey through a dusty wilderness. At last they joined a main
road and estimated they had only a few miles to go. Hot and tired, but filled
with intense anticipation, the men approached the Iran-Turkey border specified
in their dream.
One
of them spoke, in an almost reverent tone, “This is the place in my dream.”
His
friends agreed. “This is our tree.”
Upon
arriving at the tree, the men looked expectantly around the desolate area,
thinking perhaps someone would be waiting for them. There was no one. No
person, no Book; just nothing.
Shelving
their disappointment, the men agreed to set up camp and wait. Surely the Giver
of Dreams wouldn’t forget to send the Book to them. Wearily, the men pitched
their tents and fell asleep. With great expectation, the men spent the
following day beneath the tree, watching and waiting. High noon came, evening drew
nigh, and then night fell. No one had come. No one had even passed along the road.
Again they lay down to sleep, hoping against hope that on the morrow, someone
would come. And thus they passed not just one day, but two.
As
dusk fell on the second day, they held a mini council meeting to decide what
they should do. The provisions they brought were getting low. “Let’s wait,” one
of them suggested. “Let’s wait one more day.”
Across the border,
a Bible study group made up entirely of local believers was praying and seeking
the Lord secretly, as they did every week. It was late at night when one of the
men stood up and said, “I feel the Holy Ghost is speaking to me and telling me
to go across the border into Turkey. I don’t know where I am to go, exactly,
but I feel very strongly that I should go.”
“I
feel the same way, Brother,” another man said.
Confident
of God’s clear bidding, three of them obeyed the Spirit of God, took their
well-worn, carefully guarded Bibles, and immediately embarked on a journey they
knew little about. Bathing each mile in prayer lest they be stopped by unhappy
authorities, they crossed the border with no interference and drove down a
deserted road.
Clouds
began forming and a wind began to blow. They hadn’t gone far when the downpour
began. It was as though the windows of heaven had been opened and it poured down rain! The car slowed to a
crawl, inching its way through the sheets of water, but the men realized it was
futile to keep moving. Visibility was basically zero and the darkness was deep.
In the slippery mud, the car slid off the road and ended harmlessly in a ditch.
Questions
formed. Had they misread the leading of the Lord? No, surely not, for
all of them felt the leading was as clear as it was strong, but it was obvious they
would not be going any further until daylight, stranded as they were in the
middle of nowhere with nothing but their Bibles. Eventually the ferocity of the
storm began to subside until it was just a heavy drizzle.
As
they reclined in their seats, waiting for sleep to overtake them, the men were jerked awake by a knock on the window. Startled, they looked over and
were surprised to see a lone man standing by the car, drenched with the rain. When
they cracked opened a window, the man in the rain leaned forward with hope and
expectation in his eyes and said, “Did you bring the Book that explains the
Way, the Truth, and the Life?”
Picture sourced from www.Pixabay.com
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