So after all the beautiful but bizarre dreams/visions I had over the summer, it seemed for a while that my dreaming had gone back to normal. Within the past couple weeks, though, I have a new set of recurring dreams. They all center on houses. In one dream, I was invited to a friend’s house – it was beautifully decorated and completely automated (and huge) – as you walked in a room the lights would go on for you, turn off when you left – appliances would work at the sound of your voice -not a spot of clutter anywhere. Then I walked over to the neighbor’s (even larger) house – and when I got inside I saw that construction workers were constructing an enormous floor mosaic out of lovely colored granite tiles. The room that they were placing this floor was huge and cavernous – cathedral ceilings with exposed wood beams.
Then this morning I found myself dreaming of having to walk back and forth between 2 houses to find something. One house was completely decorated in shades of red inside. The other was completely decorated in shades of green. And at the last, I dreamed that my family was visiting with my folks – and though I did not see him, I knew that my dad (gone these 5 years now) was upstairs in his room.
I have no idea why I keep dreaming of being inside different houses. What could that possible mean to my spiritual journey?
Not to mention, I’ve now had 3 or 4 dreams where I was walking through the streets of a city – and I knew that I was in France. Why should I keep dreaming of being in France? True I have a French sister-in-law, but I don’t get to see her that often. I got to go to France once, for their wedding, but it’s not like I long to visit there all the time. Peculiar….
I have another blog that I’ve been sadly neglecting – mostly because my thoughts have been piling up as I deal with some heavy family matters. And now, two weeks before Christmas, I find the whole worldly Christmas celebration thing rather shallow compared to the deep things going on inside my mind and heart.
I am simultaneously dealing with my oldest (autistic) son starting the leading edge of puberty, my baby son (3) being evaluated for developmental delays, my best friend and spiritual mentor still almost completely ignoring me, our church hunt going nowhere, my faith severely faltering, and a sudden deep re-grieving for my dear father, now almost 5 years gone.
When people chirpily ask me “Have you finished your Christmas shopping?” I’m torn between smacking them and filling them in on my life. Usually I simply tell them that I’ve been very busy this year with other more important things. Quite honestly, presents and fluff and trimmings are so far from my mind this year. My life has been whittled down to the bare bones. And the best Christmas present for me would be to find out that my husband’s school district is not going to downsize his job out of existence.
My tattered scraps of faith are being spent on my husband and children and trying to hold our lives together. I simply cannot face putting my Sunday-morning-churchgoing mask on and being perky and happy. And there is no local body of Christ I feel safe in trusting. My prayer-group moms are being the body of Christ for me right now, holding me up until I can stand again. I cannot swallow sanctimonious sermons and hypocritical posing. Even my own.
It would seem that God has seen fit to teach me all the things I can live without.