Had a dream this morning. One that I remember.
I was dreaming about a wedding. A wedding that I needed to hurry and get to. One that I wasn’t dressed correctly for. Outside it was beautiful and sunny, and people were hurrying to get inside. Women were dressed in long, light, pastel, flowing dresses.
I was in shorts. The kind of shorts you wear in your yard to garden in, and don’t care if they get messed up or who sees them. Yeah, those shorts.
I was carrying two plastic bags, one of which I instinctively knew had in it a long, light flowing dress. I thought I need to get this dress on, I’m supposed to be here, but I’m not dressed right. I don’t recall what was in the other bag.
I remember getting a message, or the impression (you know how dreams work) that my best friend was waiting for me in the restroom, and that she didn’t want the wedding to start until I got there. She could only wait another 65 or 67 seconds (it was one or the other that I heard, and I wondered why she was so specific). So I knew I must hurry.
I was trying to get there, guests were hurrying past me, but I kept getting stopped, or distracted by people and would talk to them. I remember having a discussion with a couple about a home they were looking at. I stopped to notice the children playing in the aisle. I mean, really, why couldn’t I get a move on it!
I started thinking again about my appearance. I thought maybe I should just sneak around this corner, I could get to where she was and quickly change before the wedding and nobody would see me dressed this way. However, doors opened, and it was the main aisle. All of a sudden more doors opened and now the aisle was wide and there wasn’t any way to go around it you had to cross it.
Three or four middle aged women in “apron-clad” kitchen dresses, also carrying plastic bags, choose to cross the aisle, but not in a hurried way. They didn’t seem concerned with their dresses nor their plastic bags. They swayed and danced, swinging their bags. I joined them at the outskirts of the circle, and found myself in a side room in front of a counter with stools. The woman behind the counter asked me if I had my “strands” (here it sounded like ‘strands’, or I don’t recall the word she said). I shook my head. I didn’t know what she was talking about. (I got the impression, it was something I needed, I had to have brought or bought.) I started to feel sad and inadequate, and late.
One middle aged lady stepped up and counted what seemed like $10-15 and said “Denise, don’t you remember ‘mumble mumble‘ had me get this for you” (that’s what it sounded like anyway) Another lady stepped up and purchased or handed over money for me.
I just remember feeling overcome with emotion from the love and and dropping my head.
Soothing words started coming into my thoughts. With my head bowed, I could see an older male presence to my right. I knew this was an older male by his hand. While his left arm pulled my shoulder close, my head dropped and rested on his chest, while I glazed at the right hand which seemed familiar. It was moving, getting ready to stroke my head. I sensed I knew this hand.
My first thought was is this hand my earthly Dad’s? Then, immediately, I thought, no, this is Abba, Pappa. This is Abba, Pappa. This is my real daddy. This is God coming to comfort me. Telling me, He is here, He is telling me He has always been here. Everything is okay.
It was then I woke up.
Maybe you are inclined to think dreams are just jumbled up things, and don’t make sense. Maybe you think you can make logical sense out of dreams.
I believe this dream was an affirmation of a decision that I had made three weeks ago and had been thinking and journaling about prior to a posting that I am working on and plan to post this later this weekend.
Part of this process is blogging about what I think, regardless of what I fear a reader will think. Remember, I’m on this getting rid of clutter thing (A.k.a. C.C.). That includes clutter of my mind. Fear of what people think is something I’m working on.
You’ve been duly warned. 🙂