It all began with Duncan taking a bath. Seated nearby at a table, a small group of middle-aged women discussed how his great-grandfather’s health had deteriorated. In fact, he was about to die. Duncan listened intently—he’d never met the man and didn’t know he was even alive.
The scene changed. The setting was northern Ohio where his father’s side of the family lives and farms. Duncan challenged his father with burning questions:
“How come we’ve never seen him? Why didn’t we spend time with him?” Shocked and distraught, Duncan wept hard tears.
His father listened but failed to give any answer.
Then Duncan met his great-grandfather. The man was tender and kind. His presence radiated unconditional love. It felt like being with God.
“I want to give you a gun,” said the great-grandfather. “It will be the best gun you’ll ever have.” He smiled. “Why don’t you come out to the place?”
“How far it is?” asked Duncan.
“Eight miles.”
Duncan turned to question his father in dismay. “And we’ve never been out there to see him?” A crushing sense of loss overwhelmed Duncan, and he wept for a second time.
So they traveled to the great-grandfather’s farm, and the patriarch showed them around. Though elderly and failing, his manner remained full of warmth and lovingkindness—soothing Duncan’s longing for a father’s love and acceptance. His father was there but remained a silent figure.
The great-grandfather spoke again to Duncan. “Now you pick out one of these guns and shoot it—any one you want. It doesn’t matter. And it will be the best gun you ever had.”
The dream ended there. Duncan gave me permission to share it with you.
This was a significant dream. Continue reading
