BROKEN DREAMS

BROKEN DREAMS

In the early days of television, there was a program entitled, “Strike it Rich”. It was a show where contestants were asked four simple questions to win money. The people chosen were in desperate need of help and explained about their hardships.

LUKE 11:3

Give us day by day our daily bread.

The viewers who were watching could call the program on ”The Heart Line” telephone, offering financial help and offers of employment. It was sad to watch as so many people in tears, tugged  at your heart.

That was then.

And this is now.

There is popular show on television called “The Price is Right”. Contestants can win prizes in several games, and if they won, can now have a chance at a showcase, prizes of boats, trips, motorcycles, cars, a large assortment of merchandise. For me, when a person wins the showcase, it is disgusting to watch, as they jump up and down running over to their prizes hugging them, elated in exultation. They win prizes which they might never use, or afford to pay the taxes. I only watch the ending, as the news program comes on right after this escapade is over. As I watch these people go spastic over their prizes, I keep asking myself,   

“What are you going to do with that?”

PROVERBS 13:11

Wealth gotten by vanity shall be diminished: but he that gathereth by labour shall increase.

This materialist charade for happiness is not found in these things, but is in our Beloved’s presence within our soul.

And then there is this.

The news program comes on, showing the survivors from the war in Syria. The buildings bombed and crumbled, bodies lay dead in the streets, people in terror running for safety hoping to escape this hellish place. Help doesn’t come. We do nothing.

The camera is focused on a small boy at the airport, sitting on a chair, his short legs sticking out. He is about six years old. His clothes are all soiled. His face covered in dirt. He sits there in a daze, just looking at nothing, waiting, waiting for this nightmare to end. As I watch, he falls into my heart. He is still there.

No prizes here. No showcase. No heart Line.

So many more like him, lost, frightened, alone. We do nothing.

Who shall answer for this? We run away from reasonability. They run away from bombs and bloodshed. We close our eyes and hope it all goes away, while they close their eyes and hope their alive the next day.

JOB 30:26

When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness.

We do nothing. They turn to us, we turn them away. We are in a comfort zone, while they are in a zone of death. The comfort we live in here, is a paradise beyond comprehension to those left behind. We do nothing. They have nothing. Nothing to go back too. Cast adrift in a world where evil has cast a spell on the innocent.

No prizes. No jumping up and down. No charade here.

Why is it, that the equation is so wrong? That doing nothing seems to be the answer to everything. When we had enough, we turn off the television. The screen goes dark. We go to sleep in our bed of comfort, and dream our dreams.

As I sleep, the boy  at the airport, is in my dream. Sitting there. Looking at me.

His face is glued to my soul. I will not forget him. It could have been me. But I am here, and he is there. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

JOB 20:8

He shall fly away as a dream, and shall not be found: yea he shall be chased away as a vision of the night.

A broken dream? Perhaps. A dream of rescue, for those, left behind.

We do nothing.

The charade continues.

Our Beloved watches. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Robert J Varrick 

rjvarrick@gmail.com