My dreams are strange ones. The late afternoon light shimmers with a glam only a sultry summer day can summon. And though soon I must dart outside and take the groceries from the driver, for now I rest my hand upon the rim of the perspiring glass and thank the Lord for this cold drink of water. There is little that quenches thirst better on an August day though so many other beverages love to flaunt their wares and tempt one with a solidly executed ad campaign. Yet I know better. Water is what I want and water is what I’ll drink. Of course I do not harbor any silly hopes that this water was dipped from a cold mountain stream and placed in a well insulated thermos simply to be transported two thousand miles to the grocery store down the street. Still yet. It’s water. And it’s pure. Well, relatively. Sometimes it’s best to not interrogate the process. Here now, say now. Where was I? Mentioning my dreams as I recline on the couch and consider the giants that have stepped before. Ah yes. I love to let my eyes play upon the page and eagerly does my mind thrill to the thought of reading of those men and women of the faith and seeing their words of witness will surely never cease to bring me to my knees as I consider and pray and ask for what does my God have for me. Surely not is my fate the fate of giants and not for that do I hope. For with that fate comes a chalice of which one must dare to drink no matter what swirls within. Do not ask what it contains for one may not know before the proper time. And do I ask to drink such? I quail before the throne even though I see even now the coal lifted above my lips in anticipation of this severe proclamation. I say it’s folly to pray for such though very possibly this cup may yet to me be given. Instead of tracing my finger upon the path and nodding that surely such is mine, instead I lift my eyes to heaven and consider the words of heaven and say oh lord make my will as thine. For what do I pray? I know not, yet just ask that the will of God be done. Oh Spirit pray for me. And when all is said and done, may it be said that I was faithful, that I served as heaven’s son. Oh Lord have mercy upon me and let me see thy face. And you respond someday my child. Someday. And I lift the cup to my lips and drink eagerly of the water within. The heat outside is oppressive sure. But for now I turn the page and breathe a prayer. Hear me my Father. And in the pages of the word I see the light of glory reflected in truths divine. Listen my son. Listen.