“Come now, let’s settle this,” says theLord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, I will make them as white as snow.Though they are red like crimson, I will make them as white as wool.” (Isaiah1:18, New Living Translation)      

I’vehad trouble sleeping for years. Some nights, I can curl up in bed and driftright off to sleep. Other nights, ping pong balls are bouncing all over in myhead, and as much as I try to imagine them falling to the floor and rollingunder a piece of furniture to never be heard from again, they don’t stop.

          A year or two ago, I added the app for Turning Point with Dr. DavidJeremiah to my phone. He gives some good sermons. So after lying in bed gettingmore frustrated instead of relaxing, I’ll pull up one of his messages, and Iusually drift off before it’s over. Perhaps not what any pastor wants to hear,but if it helps someone in any way, that should be a win.

         The last two weeks, as you can imagine, I haven’t been sleeping much. Sometimesa sleeping pill helps, sometimes it doesn’t. Several times, I’ve turned onDavid Jeremiah, and more times than not, I will fall asleep.

         On the first of September, he started a sermon series on Joseph, the one whohad eleven brothers who were jealous of him and threw him into a well. The guywhose father gave him the multi-colored coat. He was also able to interpretdreams.

         The other night, I fell asleep to this opening message on Joseph. And I had adream.

         In my dream, I was building a snowman. The snow on the ground all around me wasmelting and full of dirt, but somehow my snowman was white as - well, white assnow. I hadn’t finished giving it a face when my snowman tipped over onto thedirty ground. It didn’t fall apart, though, and it stayed pure white.

         I woke up wondering what that was all about.

         Then I remembered about Joseph being able to interpret dreams. And I heardGod’s voice say to me, “You can interpret this dream.”

         So, in my dream, my sweet, precious daughter was the snowman. Even though thesnow was pure and white, my daughter wasn’t always that way. She had a wholelot of impurities in her words and actions. Yet, there she was, pure andwhite but not completely finished.

         And then she fell over and left me. She didn’t break, and she didn’t getcovered in dirt. She just left me, peacefully and wholly. Maybe even holy. Leftto be with those angels all dressed in white. And with a finished face, onethat was smiling.