Last night was no different at first. Silly dreams of being chased by vegetables or swimming in lakes of sweet, decadent ice cream started off the night. I would be lying if I told you that I don't ever think my dreams have meaning. Just not those kinds of dreams. However, ever once in a while, I have one of those dreams that shake me to the core. You probably know what I mean. Maybe not. It's the type of dream that resembles reality so much that it cannot be put out of my mind. It's almost creepy, actually. I mean, what if these things started to come true! I think we might be in trouble. But sometimes they do. A little hint of De ja vu always hits me when something similar to my previous dreams really does happen in real life. It's kind of strange. Regardless, let me give you a bit of back story before I tell you the impacting dream I had last night.
Many of you know that I am super passionate about human trafficking and bringing healing to those caught in such a vicious and horrid cycle. If you did not know this about me, take a minute to read my blog from several months back Standing in the Space of Injustice. If you are aware of this fact, then you would understand my frustration with people who only talk about the problem and do not seek out ways to make a difference. Perhaps you are not as passionate about trafficking as I am, but my frustration is with those who claim to be passionate about something, but never take a step to change the injustice in which he or she is passionate about seeing change. I believe change starts with us. Each of us can make a huge difference if we take the risk to see change happen.
My frustration runs deep. Not only am I frustrated with secular circles that seem to blow smoke and allow their fire to fizzle out almost as quickly as it began, I am also frustrated with the Church. As a part of the Church I am most frustrated with the fact that many churches leave themselves open to the criticism of those around them who are looking for help and the church forgets to do something. Many people wonder "Where was God when 'X' happened?"...I think a better question is "Where were God's people when 'X' happened?" So in an attempt to wake the church up, I bring awareness to the problems around us, try to light the fire of passion in the people of God, and attempt to find my own way into the world of action and not just apathy. This brings me to my dream.
I will not waste your time and tell you the entire dream in detail, but rather, I'll give a quick snapshot of what was going on in my mind last night. The dream was one that started off with some burglars trying to break into the church I attend. For some reason, my parents were there with me and we were trying to protect the objects inside. I don't know what those objects were, or why they were so important, but during several frantic moments we ran to every window and door and locked them as quickly as we could. It was the middle of the day, so the burglars could see what we were doing as they ran along the outside of the building trying to climb in. At one point, they discovered that two of the large windows we locked actually had broken locks. They appeared to be secured, but were actually broken. In a moment of panic my parents tried to continually push them back out of the windows and I ran to the basement to make a 911 call. I needed to rally up some help.
As I spilled the story to the operator on the phone, I was told that help was on the way and that a team would be there soon. Somehow, next thing I knew, I ended up outside the building, running through the town in reckless anticipation of the help that was on the way. I ran from person to person begging for help. No one responded. Not one single person. As time ticked on, hours and hours passed. I knew that my parents were fighting hard to protect whatever was inside that church, but I knew that I needed to continue searching for help. I wondered if the help I had secured with the 911 operator got lost, so I searched the city for any emergency personnel. In a moment of desperation, I burst into a huge warehouse, hoping to find a vigilante that would come with me. What I found was appalling to me.
As the doors flew open, I found hundreds of police officers standing around, socializing. Had they forgotten that there was an emergency happening? What was going on. I began to scream and beg for their help. My efforts went unnoticed by all but a handful. I thought I had found help. Quickly, the officers followed me out and began running down the sidewalk with me towards the church where my parents were likely losing their battle. Out of nowhere, they all just stopped. To my left was a small coffee shop. One of the officers said "Hey, let's grab some coffee on our way!"
I was furious. Didn't they know how important this fight was? Were they not aware that it was their job to stop burglaries? Did it not sink in that my family's lives were at stake? Stop for coffee? STOP FOR COFFEE?!?! I screamed at them and continued to beg them to come. Grabbing their arms and pulling them, I tried to make them budge, but instead they sat down at the barista table outside and ordered their beverages. Without pause, I stood staring at the only female officer. "Please...you have to come". She gently retorted "We'll get there in time. Sit down and relax. We have a few minutes. They burglars will be there when we arrive and then we will apprehend them. There is time." Furious I stared at her for a moment and then closed my eyes, unable to look at her any longer. Slowly began to count silently, using my fingers to keep track of the numbers. 1...2...3...4...5.....
The female officer sounded caught off guard. "What are you doing?" "Counting the seconds between the time you learned about the injustice and the moment you decide not to do anything about it" At that my mind gave me an image of me turning and running down the sidewalk, stopping at nothing. I pushed people out of the way and ran as fast as I could. I would not have a pause. And then I woke.
I wonder if that's what it is like in real life? How many times do we hear about an injustice and then take time to think about it and finally decide we will do nothing? In the meantime, a battle is being fought. A battle for life. A battle to protect. A battle that needs more warriors on the side of good. How many seconds, minutes, days, months, years, does it take for us to pretend to have passion and then finally decide not to do anything about it? How long do we sit and sip our coffee while the battle rages on? Where is the band of rescuers?
There is no excuse. What is wrong with humanity that makes us believe that while we sip on coffee, the babies in our generations are being raped, trafficked, lured into drugs, forced to work on rice farms or sew clothing in sweat shops...broken...and that's okay. Where is the urgency? Where is the concern? Where are the actions? I beg you...do something. Heed the lesson of this dream. Please, do not sit and count the seconds between finding out about injustice and deciding you will do nothing. No, no single comfort in this world is worth allowing the innocence of people around us to be taken away. No single comfort, to me, is worth letting a ten year old be forced to have sex with countless men who do not value her worth. No comfort is worth the pain she will face. None.
Please, people, wake up from your slumber...don't just sit there and count the seconds.
Great to see how passionate you are about this, Kate. If only more people cared as much as you do. (and don't eat before bed from now on!)
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