Though I’ve been told to record my dreams on varied occasions, I have never attempted to do so. My reasons for not doing so had been numerous; however, I realized last night that recording my dreams wouldn’t be some silly adventure down memory lane; but rather, recording my dreams would give me an opportunity, and perhaps others, a time to reflect on what God has done in my, and perhaps your, life.
As Greg Cynaumons, PH.D. (2002) ascertains,” God, since the beginning of time, has shown a “willingness to communicate with people through dreams (p. xxii). He goes on to say that people have two types of dreams, those they have orchestrated themselves, and those from God (p. xxii).
From this point forward, I will be recording dreams that I feel are from God, the Father. I pray that you, my reader, find some significance or glory in them. Should you, I challenge you to share below.
March 21, 2017
I sat on the floor of a red cave. As I scooted around, I noticed that I was scooting around with slaves. I felt as if I were one of them, yet different. Coming up upon a group of guards, I could feel tension amongst those around me.
Just past the guards, I began walking around. I can still sense my person, on the back right side of the cave, surrounded by beautiful red stone, all around, even above my head. There were glimpses of sunlight that shown through the sides of the cave, where the top and bottom half were separated. As I walked around, I could feel my fingertips touching every chair in the room. It was as if I were in a furniture store, chair shopping. I felt the fabrics and noticed the ornate differences in each chair. At this point, I hadn’t noticed any of the people being in the room but the guards, whom were heavily watching my actions. I didn’t seem to be concerned about them.
Suddenly, the top half of the cave started slowly making its way to the ground, as if a lever had been pulled to lower the ceiling. As many panicked, I collaborated with two others and discussed the possibility of pushing a small girl through the opening in the side of the cave. Not coming to an agreement, I quickly lifted the girl up and pushed her through before there had no longer been an opening to escape through.
I lied on the floor in wait. The stone beneath me was cold and smooth. I looked to my right and saw many scared slaves hiding in the crevasses of the rock, at the lowest points of the cave, hoping not to be smashed by the lowering rock above.
About a foot from my face, the lowering rock had stopped and reversed directions. The young girl had done it. She had found the lever and reversed the rock.
The top half of the rock continued to lift to the point of allowing all of the slaves to leave the cave. The slaves ran out of the cave, as fast as they could, for their lives. They didn’t seem to care that they would be beaten. They ran quickly, in fear, running from death, running from their master’s snare.
I ran out of the cave and to the left. I saw the girl, ran to her, embarrassed her and lifted her to the heavens, hugging her. I was so proud of her; she had saved us all. As I placed her back down on her feet, I saw the sun shine on me. It was only then that I had realized I was dressed in a fine linen, purple and flowing. I stood there, before this young girl, with crown on my head and a robe that touched the ground. I stood there, now realizing that I was royalty. I stood there, embarrassing this girl into my royal family. I stood there, now realizing why I had no fear. My identity was and is in the Lord.
March 24, 2017
I went to bed frustrated Friday night, trying to let go of all the stresses and lies the enemy had brought that day. At some point, I fell asleep, only to wake up and continue stewing. I stewed for somewhere over an hour before I fell back to sleep.
In my dreams, I continued to stew in bed. Unfortunately, I hadn’t realized I was dreaming. It all seemed to realistic.
I laid in bed, pondering everything, devising a plan. Nothing I came up with seemed good. I didn’t think I could write a judging letter to those whom had hurt me. I didn’t think I could make anyone see my side or ask for forgiveness. I didn’t think it would be right to point fingers and judge. I didn’t think it would be right to make someone else feel bad, though these were the only ideas I could come up with… all bad… all wrong… all choices the enemy would have me make.
Not liking the ideas I was coming up with, and knowing I was better than the flesh that I was trying to submit to, I turned to God. I picked up my Bible to read a scripture He had given me.
It read, “act, don’t react”.
Knowing that God was right, I accepted his peace and fell asleep.
I woke up the next morning and realized that it had all been a dream. I hadn’t physically asked God for direction. I hadn’t physically read my Bible last night; and, I had not read a verse in the Bible that said, “act, don’t react”. Such a verse didn’t exist, obvious.
But what a testament that statement is… “act, don’t react”
March 30, 2017
I received a phone call from the restaurant my husband and I last worked. On the other end was the share holder of the entire company. He offered me $100,000 to take my blog site down. My first instinct was to take the money. Then God reminded me that I had been working on my blog to glorify Him. I decided I wouldn’t trade my site for the money. The dream ended with me telling the share holder that I would eliminate words from my blog that may indirectly identify or slander the company (as this was not my intent. I asked that he pay me $50,000 to do so.
April 5, 2017
I was returning to work, teaching in my old classroom, after two years of staying home with the boys. Some of my colleagues were the same; some were different. My classroom looked the same, with the gray and purple walls. I had the same posters, bulletins, and curtains hanging in the windows; however, there were around 100 toy dinosaurs scattered around the room. As I starred at the ridiculous amount of dinosaurs throughout the room, I thought of my oldest son. I laughed to myself and thought that my room looked more like a science classroom than an English classroom.
Upon lunch break; I went to my car to get something. Oddly, I was parked in a lot that I wouldn’t typically park. It was shady and quiet.
I opened the back door. Leaning into the car, I fell in love with this beautiful sleeping infant. I couldn’t wait to unbuckle her and caress her in my arms. Holding her against my chest, I thanked God for her and my ability to hold her during work hours. I was lucky enough to have my planning period right after lunch, an hour and half to hold my baby. (I WOULD NEVER LEAVE MY CHILD IN A CAR!!! YIKES! I DON”T KNOW WHY I DREAMPT SHE WAS IN THE CAR.)
The heavenly daze I had been enjoying was interrupted by a random meeting being held in my classroom. The administrator speaking was complaining about the dinosaurs in my room, carrying on about how they were a distraction to the learning environment.
My darling girl must have felt my anguish, because, she began wailing. I thought to myself that she needed feeding, but that I couldn’t feed her. “If these people weren’t in my classroom, I could feed her.”
Then my husband showed up with our sons. He was holding the younger one with the oldest standing next to his side. I met them in the hall with our baby girl in my arms, which I now realized was no more than 5 months old. My husband asked why I hadn’t answered my phone? He went on to say that I was missing the most important moments of my life.
I looked at our younger son. His nose was swollen on the right side. He had managed to shove his sister’s pacifier all the way up his nose and needed to go to the hospital immediately.
I walked back into my classroom, with my screaming daughter, grabbed my things and proceeded to leave. The administrator speaking asked me where I was going. I scoffed at her and left.
(It was unlike me to leave work in this fashion; however, I realized in that moment that I didn’t have any desire to be at work anymore. My work, my desire, is to be home with my children, and my future children. This dream was especially neat to me; because I had been questioning whether being home as desired was what was best for my family. Is it better to be present and experience the important moments in life, or is it better to earn an income and help your spouse with the bills?)
April 22, 2017
It was dark! Everyone was climbing over and around broken or fallen items. Everyone was frantic. At first, I had thought we had all experienced an earth quake in the middle of the night. The more I observed my surroundings, the more I realized that an earth quake couldn’t have been what was causing everyone’s distress. It was too dark and gloomy; light bulbs had shattered all over the place, ceiling panels were hanging by threads, curtains were slashed, furnished chairs ripped, fires, and stars falling from the sky.
I picked up a sculpture and began carrying it. I walked calmly and quickly, telling people not to touch. “If you touch it, something bad will happen.” I climbed over fallen items and through tight crevasses, balancing and protecting the sculpture.
As I entered one room, someone reached out and touched the sculpture. (I became aware of the appearance of the sculpture. It looked like an achetechs model displayed on a board; but it wasn’t. It was hand woven with clay. A border outlined the edges of the board like a fence. Inside, there was a woven piece that resembled a head or gateway. It looked like a mouth on an arch. I cannot describe it any better than that. It was beautifully weird.) As the walls began crumbling around us, I remembered and repeated, “Don’t touch the sculpture; if you do, bad things will happen.” Another person, reached out and touched the sculpture. Loud noises, sounding like volcanoes, echoed throughout the area. The two whom had just touched the sculpture then began helping me to my destination, guarding the sculpture.
Suddenly, I was sitting in a circle, around what appeared to be a campfire. Jesus Christ was speaking. I was on his right. An older woman on his left. He was describing the events that would soon occur. “…then Joshua will stand before you and speak.” Pausing, he asked, “who is an aunt”? The older woman and I both spoke up. Jesus turned to the woman, looked her gracefully in the eyes, and said, “you are wise and experienced. Let the youth do the work now.” He turned to me, “You will be the healer.”
He faced the group and finished telling of the events to occur. “After Joshua is finished speaking, the healer…”
I wanted to ask Jesus to tell me what to do again. What should I say? When do I say it? What if I mess up? My heart ached… can you… can you tell me… can I ask him to tell me again? Will he be upset.
He turned to me with a smile on his face. “Did I not tell you what would happen and what you should do?” “You did. I just don’t want to mess up. Can you tell me again, so I do it right?” “Don’t worry. You will know what to say.”
(Then I woke up. I thought to myself that my dream couldn’t have been the end times. None of that is described in Revelations. ha ha. Apparently, I’d missed the point. Upon opening my daily devotional:
“Watch out for God’s great turnaround: Everything you experience now in terms of God turning things around is only a foretaste of the great turnaround that will occur when Jesus returns… Jesus’ prophecies about the destruction of the temple are not an isolated event… Jesus prophecies about the events surrounding his return. Jesus warns us that as we approach the end times, things are going to get about as bad as they can get. There will be ‘wars and rumors of wars’ (Mark 13:7), ‘earthquakes’ and ‘famines’ (v 8b). And these are only the ‘beginning of birth-pains’ (v 8c). Worse is to come”: ‘The sun will be darkened , and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from the sky, and the heavenly bodies will be shaken’ (vv. 24-25)… In the face of all this, Jesus says ‘do not worry beforehand about what to say. Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking but the Holy Spirit (V. 11) (Gumbel, 2017).
(How awesome is that???)
Read the Last Toilet Paper Roll’s testimony, as it’s unraveled in a series of stories.