what a Prince dreams about.

This morning at church we sang "Silent Night": "Sleeeeeeeeep in heavenly peeeeeeeeeeeace..." Suddenly I was wondering what baby Jesus dreamed about. See, one of my great amusements as a parent has been to observe my babies while they sleep. Sometimes they grin, make hiccupy sounds, chuckle. I'd like to think it's not all chalked up to indigestion, but something more whimsical, more sweet: Is he seeing montages of family members' smiling faces? The wonder of the blue sky he glimpsed from his car seat as we zoomed down the highway?

When I imagine baby Jesus dreaming, I assume his dreams had to have been of the same magical nature, but ... popped. In high-definition. The stuff the world's most gifted special effects artists can only dream of.

Did he remember how the soft grass felt beneath his feet as he walked in the garden with Adam? The splendor of the very first rainbow and the promise it held? The amusement from observing bear cubs wrestle in a field?

Did he drift to sleep with several millenia's worth of childrens' laughter filling his ears? Or the ethereal swell of a hundred crickets in a darkened meadow? Perhaps the memory of all heaven's angels singing "Holy, Holy" to His Father?

Maybe Jesus' dreams as an infant were not as unusual as I'd like to think. Maybe like the millions of babies who will lie swaddled in their beds tonight, he dreamt of the soothing voice of his mother as she rocked him earlier. Or the happiness he felt when his father lifted him to press a kiss to his temple.

Heavenly peace, indeed.

*Painting by James E. Seward