One morning as I was lying in bed I suddenly recalled a dream I had years ago.
I was at church, there was a front section that was like other chapels. The congregation filled the pews, everyone was dressed in their Sunday best, the room was filled with light.
The back section of the building was dark and everything was made of mud. Several people were in this part of the church. A person could still hear what was being said, this is where the “Sinners” sat, this is where I sat.
I looked around at all the filth, the mud continually dripped down on everything. I looked up and there was a balcony made of mud, a man sat up there spitting mud on me and heckling me. He sat up high so he could look down on me just to insult me and make sure I stayed where I was.
I tried so hard to hear what was being said but the harder I tried, the more the heckler carried on. When church was over, I was relieved cause I could leave the wretched stare and constant barrage of remarks. As I made my way out of the room, I was confronted by someone from the front of chapel. They held their arm out to me and gently grabbed my elbow.
“Sister, why didn’t you join us up front?” I was surprised and all I could do was respond with, “I didn’t know I could.” She smiled and said, “All are welcome.”
I have always loved stories. When my children were small, I would read to them every night and sometime it turned into me making up stories for them which they seemed to love. With every story I made up, it became, “Tell us another story, mommy.”
This drained my creative juices on many occasions and I would often have to quit. Some nights I would retell fairy tales and do voices for the different characters and sometimes change to the stories around to different variations. I had just as much fun doing it as it was for them to hear me do them.
Maybe that is why I have so many dreams that answers questions to things going on in my life. A lot of times I have dreams that I do not fully understand the meaning of them when I first wake up. Sometimes I have to be more awake before the full context of their meaning is unfolded for my understanding.
I love them regardless and how they help me put things into perspective to better understand the perplexities I am dealing with. Now I will share another dream here.
I am at a house, not my house. It almost feels like a clubhouse that people might gather for a party. My children and I are there. On a table are several large bottles of poison. The bottles are big and brown like the old cartoon jugs that would have the XXX painted on them.
Each person including myself were going to drink our own bottle. I knew mine would be the last I would drink. I didn’t want my kids to drink any but they were all determined to have their share. Everyone was talking loudly above the other and no one was listening. Each person was determined to be heard and even I though I wanted to caution them not to drink theirs, no one could hear me.
I quickly drank mine and everyone stopped and looked at me, then they quickly drank theirs down. Realizing what they had just done they all got quiet. No one spoke but I could tell they were sorry but would not admit it to each other. No one wanted to die but it was too late, now the only thing that anyone could do was wait. Everyone sat quietly and the silence was just as deafening as the noise had been.
Finally Curtis spoke up and turned to me and with exasperation asked me, “Mom how can you believe in the things you do and why do you want to die?” I stayed silent. Then Curtis turned to James and said, “I wish you’d say something.” James wouldn’t speak, he just turned his head in sorrow. Then I woke up.
This dream came from deep in my psyche. Before going to sleep last night, I was lying in bed thinking about my children and how this whole pandemic has caused such a rift in the family and worrying about how and if I could fix it. So I laid in my bed going over the dream and the meaning became more evident.
The bottles of poison were bottles of intolerance that we were all drinking. It was poisoning us as a family. While everyone is talking and reacting above the other, no one is listening and won’t listen until it has succeeded in destroying us all, but by then it will be too late. We had drunk from our own bitter cups.
It hasn’t helped me to find my answer only to put things in a different perspective. I have so much gratitude to a Heavenly Father that speaks to me in such a way, that I will listen.
I am with my daughter and her husband. We are on an immense bridge made of railroad ties. It stands over a massive waterfall, the noise from the rushing waters beneath are deafening.
I think that the waterfall must be like that of the great Niagra. Many people are walking over too. I am not saying much except that I am feeling somewhat frightened because I am terrified of heights and water, there is no railing for me to hang onto, I just stay in the middle of it so as not to get too close the sides. I keep going and just want to make it across safely to the other side.
We finally make it across, but when I look for my daughter and her husband, they are gone and I realize I am alone except for a few strangers walking aimlessly about. It begins to get dark, and I start to lose my way. I look back at the bridge which is not lit at all. I kept thinking if I go back the way I came, I could fall over the sides. The sky becomes almost black and I notice that many of the travelers are moving toward a path, not wanting to be left alone and not wanting to go back the way I came. I begin to follow them. As I do, a big neon sign appears that reads “forbidden paths”.
I stop, kneel and weep because I had almost gone the way of the “forbidden paths”. I awoke and was happy because I realized I did not have to finish my dream to find my way back.
Although I knew or felt the dream had significance, I couldn’t figure out what it was. So I tucked it away. Since that day, I have learned the significance. Out of my own ignorance I had was trying to do things my way, instead of “thy will be done”, it had become “Debi’s will be done”, in doing so it was robbing me of any peace I had been delighting in.
Although the waters continue to rage beneath me, now that I am right with the Lord again, I will not walk those forbidden paths and not be lost. I will not be left alone to wander aimlessly.
I have gotten asked, “Have I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior and confessed my sins”. These questions put me off. They seem to be a form of entrapment. If you know me you should not have to ask me that.
It should be evident to you. If you don’t know the answer then you have been too busy concerned with the semantics and nothing else. If I answer yes to those questions, does that mean that is all it takes? Not for me it isn’t.
I spend everyday confirming to my Savior my love for Him. Everyday day I am confessing my sins and asking forgiveness because I am human and there is always something to repent of.
Have I accepted Christ as my personal Savior and confessed my sins? Well, even though I have and do, it really isn’t anyone’s business. Am I a Christian? Yes! But I guess the question lies with what you see a Christian as. Then comes my response. I don’t care what your views of being a Christian are.
Your views are not what is going to extend mercy to me so that I can enter my Fathers’ kingdom. You did not die for my sins. Your views and conditions have no value what so ever.
This time, I was again in the frontoom with my children. I had my eyes closed. Someone had put a yellow rose in my hand. I couldn’t see who it was but as soon as he spoke. I said, “Oh I know that voice.” It was the voice of my husband. I smiled and pressed his hand against my cheek. He was by my side and I whispered, “I love you.” Then I was gone. It was so real.
It was a harsh reality when I woke up to an empty room.
I looked up the meaning of a yellow rose: Yellow roses are often given to loved ones as a way to bring joy and cheer. Due to the yellow rose’s bright color, many attribute it to the warmth of a sunny day, and rightfully so. It’s an absolute beauty to behold, bringing happiness to all who receive it.
I awoke about 1 a.m. and as the case here lately, I laid in bed just trying to find a reason to get up. While lying there I must have drifted back to sleep. I had a dream: My children were altogether in my front room, except Curtis wasn’t there. We were watching TV and I was sitting on the floor. All of a sudden, I saw Chewy and Vitas, they were playing together. I got so excited and said, “Look! Vitas is here!” No one else could see him. “I yelled again, “Look you guys he is right there!” I called him to me and he ran to me and jumped into my arms. I nuzzled him and buried my face in his fur. My dog had come home to me. My children gathered around me and we huddled together hugging. I could still feel Vitas and I knew I was slipping away. My children knew it too. I had very little breath in my body but could only muster a whisper of “Tell Curtis I love him. “Still holding my dog, I slipped away. I awoke and the time was 3:20. It was important for some reason to recognize the time although I don’t know why.
I laid in bed and just wept tears of mixed emotions. I had just been separated from my dogs again. I passed away without all my children there and accounted for. But I passed away with the sweet embrace from the rest of my children. This dream has left me feeling drained. How can a person who had a pretty good night’s sleep, feel so drained?
When I was reading the part in the Old Testament about Moses building the Tabernacle to house the Ark of the covenant. He was told that when the cloud had descended over it that it meant that God was there. I love the imagery.
Upon seeing a picture of one of the temples and the cloud hanging over it reminded me that God still dwells in His house. I then realized how often this is the case with many of His Holy houses. What an honor to witness such a miraculous event to take place and being able to recognize of His glory in such a way as this is. I think about the scriptures speaking of in the last days witnessing marvels in the earth below and in the heavens. Could this be but one of them?
Next time you are blessed to witness such an event, take time to marvel that God is there and that you get to share in the Heavenly manifestation of His presence.
To those that read my posts but don’t comment. I just want to say Thank You for taking the time to read. I started this as an outlet for me personally. It has been wonderful to have a place to put my thoughts and feelings. A place that I can rest all things that are important to me.
Oh how I love Christmas! It is only October but today I turned on the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square. They began to play a Christmas concert. Oh my how fun!
One singer they had come on to share his wonderful gift of voice is David Archuleta. I watched him and the twinkle in his eyes made me think about the stars that was in the sky over where the tiny baby lay in the manger.
David has a beautiful soul and you can see his love for the Savior through his eyes and the twinkle in his eyes were but particles of the light of Christ being manifested through him.
Isn’t it marvelous that this same twinkle can be seen when anyone sings praises to the King of Kings? I love these tiny reminders that He is NEVER far from us and is ever mindful of us all.
I live in a mobile home park and while it is peaceful and everyone is friendly and accepting there is always at least one person that is going to be that ripple in the water to keep you appreciative of the other calm waters.
I have one such neighbor that is very intrusive, overbearing and obnoxious. She is passive aggressive and I have distanced myself from her. I printed a sign that reads “quarantine” on it. I taped it to my front door. I felt guilty because I am being somewhat deceptive because it implies I am quarantined because of Covid.
I had already told this person I am a loner by nature and that I didn’t want to be disturbed any more. I wasn’t lying. And after a few scattered attempts on her part of which was to her of no avail, I decided to hang the sign.
Since then the spirit of discontentment and contention has seeped into my own family. The outcome has not been good and the offending person removed themselves from our family unit. This has brought me much sorrow.
This morning as I think about my “quarantine” sign I realized that it isn’t really as deceptive as I felt it might have been originally.
I am quarantined against viruses, against contention, chaos and anything that will work its way in to try and disturb or destroy the peace of mind I so desperately need at this time in my life.
I hope more people are a little more kinder to themselves in quarantying their personal lives against the attacks from Satan. Let peace abound in all its precious forms and that the destroying angel may pass them by.
I'm glad I learned to express my thoughts clearly and everyone loves to read them. Sometimes it takes a lot of thinking power to think about the surroundings. Someone who likes it, someone who enjoys it, appreciates that he is writing very well. Reading and commenting on the post I wrote would give me a lot of bullshit and I would get new ideas to write new ones.
I'm really glad I got your response.