I dream that I get up off my lucid dreaming bed in the Den. I realize my family is also up, for I hear my parents in the living room. (In waking life my mother doesn't live with me and my father is dead.) Then suddenly my brother (still a little boy in the dream and who also doesn't live with me) runs into the room and stands beside my bed. I look at him and exclaim, “Wait, you’re up too early. . . you would never get up so early. . . This is a dream!”
I walk happily into the pitch-black living room, where my father's silhouette is standing, just as my mother's silhouette walks out of the kitchen.
I announce, “Estamos soñando. Este es un Sueño.” (“We’re dreaming. This is a dream.”)
My mother tells my father, “Es verdad.” (It’s true.)
I exclaim, “Vamos a caminar afuera!” (“Let’s go walk outside!”) and together the three of us walk out the open front door.
Far away the black sky is filled with brilliant white stars, multitudes of them, and the incredibly beautiful sight is also so intensely heartwarming, it doesn’t matter that the porch and the world are still impenetrably dark.
Looking over my right shoulder to where my parents are standing just behind me, I deliberately relish the Spanish language of my childhood as I announce, “Voy a volar con mi mamá y mi papá. Vamos!” (“I’m going to fly with my mother and father. Let’s go!”) I grasp my mother's left hand with my right hand, and we promptly rise effortlessly up into the sky, with my father following just behind us. I look at my mother and declare, “Qué bella!” (“How beautiful!”) for she looks to be in her late twenties again. Yet her face, so beloved and familiar, also looks a little different, like another woman’s. . . like the face of a Saint.
At one point, my father who is just above me becomes horizontal as he falls down toward me, but I laughingly support his weight, and help him straighten himself up again. We pass bare black tree branches, and as we slowly gain altitude, I perceive that at least two trees are occupied by a single person poised in the topmost branches, their posture evocative of Native American scouts scanning the land below. They are wearing what appear to be light-brown deer-skin outfits, and are facing in the direction in which my family and I are flying.
The sounds of life are an ambient music in the night emanating from everywhere, endlessly rich and yet also deeply subtle. I even hear what sounds like one of my old laying hens clucking excitedly somewhere below me. I extend my hand toward her in delight before thinking—Oh that’s ridiculous, I’m not going to cuddle up with my old chicken right now!
Looking up again, I am presented with the astonishing sight of a city like no earthly city. Two immense white buildings rise across from each other, but they are rendered almost in two dimensions, their windows and the people leaning out of them much larger than they can realistically be. Everywhere I look the perspective changes and shifts, so that some people appear colossal while others look smaller. The edifices are white but the people—their skin, hair and clothes—are all vividly colorful.
And high above this surrealistic city scene, I suddenly make out what appear to be spaceships! Alien life forms visiting earth?! The spaceships resemble vessels from a recent version of the sci-fi series Battlestar Galactica and seem to be firing at each other. But my dismay lasts only an instant as I realize that what is actually issuing from the ships are spheres of bright red, gold and silver lights which look, for all the world, like glittering Christmas ornaments made of fireworks continually growing in size as they descend toward earth and. . . transform into toys! Toys are raining down from heaven! I realize then that the theme of “play” is featured everywhere as I spot a much larger-than-life little girl holding a baseball bat where she leans out of a great window.
Gazing around me in amazement, I wonder how this can possibly be the future, yet it's obviously not the present because there is no sign whatsoever of any of the many evils currently plaguing our world. Everything appears to be perfectly all right as toys keep raining down from the heavens! Some of the toys are so big—a white submarine-like spaceship, for example—I'm almost afraid of being crushed by them, but there's no danger of that because they're falling toward earth as lightly as snowflakes.
I have never experienced anything like this in a lucid dream! Scarcely believing my eyes, I wake up.
That morning, I did not write anything about this dream feeling words would only detract from the sense of profound hope it filled me with. It’s message is even clearer to me now—our Father loves us, and if we in turn love Him with all our heart, and truly live our lives as God’s children, His gifts to us are worlds without end through the Divine play of Creation.
“You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind. And Love your neighbor as yourself.”
-Luke 10:27
HOME
Next Post