I want to start this blog with a trailer from a well-known movie that came out 23 years ago:
On the one hand, Field of Dreams is the most ridiculous plot imaginable. Build a baseball field in the middle of a Iowa cornfield and watch the greats from baseball’s past come back to life to play. It is too crazy to believe. And yet men have told me that they cry every time they see it. For this movie is not just about a baseball. It’s about reconcilation between father and son. And under that, it’s about the crazy dreams that roam in our hearts, igniting us and leaving us quivering for more. For each of us has our own field of dreams.
Tonight I just came back from the small group Heidi and I have been a part of for several years. After dinner, we began to talk about the dreams in our hearts. It’s a tender subject, like talking about your first boy or girlfriend. Something feels dangerous, raw when you go here. That’s because our dreams represent the visible imagery we attach to the longings in our hearts, longings that have been by and large stuffed or sidetracked.
Some in the group mentioned that they were never encouraged to dream. Others said that only practical dreams were allowed. And still others spoke about dreams that had been broken or simply left in the dust by the realities of life. One woman in the group put it this way: “I just get through the daily grind of work and then go home to numb out with TV so I don’t have to think about the dreams.” Alas, she had the honesty to put words to what so many of us do. We are so used to our dreams being shattered that it’s just too painful to go here.
The pattern in the Bible is such a contrast. First comes the voice of God and then the dream to go do something that seems impossible. So many stories have this pattern, from Abraham to Paul. Could it be that Field of Dreams is not so crazy after all?
Lewis once said, “The cure for broken dreams is to dream again, and this time deeper.” How do we do that?
Start asking Jesus, “What are your dreams for me?” Then listen. Who knows? Maybe you’ll hear a voice in a cornfield.