I had two dreams the other night. It’s been a few days since the actual thing, so lots of details are somewhat fuzzy or lost.
I had gone to some supercool amusement park with a few of my friends. Some I hadn’t talked to in years, and others, we keep in touch once in a while. Beside the point. This bit of reality aside, I continue. Of course, being an amusement park, it’s really crowded, since it’s a weekend/holiday. Eventually, we head to the Space-Needle themed Tilt-a-Whirl, and luckily we’re the first ones inside. I and some of them walk around a bit, one or two friends strap in ready to go and get going for the other rides. Suddenly, the ride starts up, without warning, and we who didn’t strap in fell. Duh. What shook me, (in reality, not the dream so much) was that we all either wore black or white, something I hadn’t noticed before. Those who were wearing black – those who, like me, weren’t strapped in, fell off the ride. The force of the ride had flung them off. I tried to save one. Looking back, he was decked out in black, and looked sort of evil. He slipped away from me. It was then that I noticed our clothes. Those left on the ride, strapped in or not, were all wearing white, myself included.
Of course then, I wake up, minutes before my alarms.
And of course, being me which equates to my laziness I fell back asleep
This is the one that gets somewhat fuzzy.
I have no idea why exactly, or where we are, but it’s for some ceremony. I thought it was for a wedding. It was a sacrifice, I remember someone saying. Everyone we knew was there, looking ready for a funeral. All sombre and sad-looking. It was between my brother and me. One of us had to be chosen, as would be determined by the ceremony that day and the sacrifice would follow right after. I was wearing my off-white lace dress (although it looked seriously white in the dream). My brother wore a bleached white shirt, a black tie and black dress pants. We were shuttled off into different waiting rooms. I went to a bathroom.
I was there a good while, got bored and started fiddling with my make-up. A few people came in, wearing red or black. I remember one of my aunts telling me what a good thing I was doing, although she looked pained. This happened a few other times.
My parents were nowhere to be found.
I just sat there in the bathroom. Waiting. Getting distracted. Sat in a stall and took off my dress so I wouldn’t sweat and mess it up. Put it back on when people came in.
Eventually I left the bathroom to follow some petty distraction.
It was near the end of the dream I realised that no one who was at the ceremony was there after it ended and I couldn’t find my brother anywhere.
Bringing up the question in the title, is there something in Dreams? Dreams could be interpreted according to the influence of things in your everyday life, of things that you did immediately before you sleep, of things on your mind. And the people as well.
Some people insist that dreams and dream interpretation are a life-changing thing, determining their days, their lives, whatever. And there is some truth to this. Even in the Bible. Joseph had his own dreams of stalks of wheat bowing to ( obviously the most important) one. He rightly interpreted the famine that would face Egypt while he was there and advised the Pharaoh against it. Peter had a vision, three days it recurred, explaining the good in including Gentiles among the followers of Jesus.
So yeah, I believe there is something to dreams, but I don’t usually dwell on the meanings. Just on the level of reaction that I have when I wake up.
But something about these dreams. In my dreams. Maybe also in the order they happened too.
These, coupled with the insistence of going out and talking to people and my need to discuss social issues that we face today, and the sense of urgency my mother is feeling about the End of Days, I could be reading into it too much – quite possibly, it seems as if something is happening and it’s happening now. I usually brush it off whenever my mother says anything about the second coming of Christ, but I feel that I agree with her.
Humour me. Most of you have already closed this off, and I don’t doubt why – I’m not the best writer in the world – Never gonna get a publishing/editorial job (haha, no, I know why, just, please – …)
It’s going to happen. Jesus is gonna come back. We dunno the day or the time. We could only be ready for it. We have to be strapped in and ready for the ride. Those not ready will have to be ready to face the fallout. There will be death. There will be suffering. Famine, disease, the whole enchilada.
There will be trials and tribulations. It will be torture. But even then, we have a chance at escaping death and gaining everlasting life. So while there is a chance. While we have the time now. Start preparing. God is coming. What’s your position? Where do you stand with God now?
For, for now, we have Grace. He paid the price that we deserve. He took the role of barrier against the consequences of our actions as pathetic, sinful humans. We go about being distracted by the world and everything that it offers – good and bad. And we forget even what was going on/what went on. Even though we are sometimes willing to pay the price ourselves, because that’s all we could do -Parents can’t do much else at that point; We have to answer for ourselves – it’s already been done for us.
And the fact that it was my brother (whose shirt is white, while my dress is just an off-white color) sacrificed in my place, it resonates with me because the bible says we are joint heirs with Jesus – so he’s essentially my brother. Or he becomes our brother when we accept him. And I knew I was supposed to die in the dream. Everyone knew. Yet I, with my not-so-pure-as-snow dress, was given life instead of my brother with the pure white shirt.
It was that sacrifice, and that choice, and that grace that I’d received, that allowed me to move on, to live on, and get out and be distracted by things apart from the original setting of the dream, yet, it was the realisation and remembrance of the original dream that brought me back to it even as I woke up the next morning.
I think that’s what we have to remember. And meditate on. And thank God for.
It may just be a dream, but it had a message for me, and I choose to share it with as many of you who would read it. It’s scary, even for me, who honestly never thought that something like this could happen. To me. Because I’m far from spiritually competent. But if God chooses to use me to warn, and bless, why not? Far be it from me to question it.