A Jumble Dream

Saturday, 22 April 2017

Last night, I was filled by the Holy Spirit.
I have had a rough time the whole of the Friday with my husband. I feared that this will interfere with my medication and my recovery from H Pylori virus. I was offended and vindictive at times, but my will to go back and seek God’s help seemed to be more present than in other times.
At some point, after my husband stormed out of the house and when I gave up fighting and fearing, and when I surrendered completely to God, I felt his spirit was comforting me through Jesus Christ.

I was brought to remember the days when I was much more vulnerable than now, and when I walked out of everything and everyone, carrying a baby in my belly, without fear or apprehension, because I was filled by God’s assurance that it will all be OK.

I longed for those days where fear wasn’t one of my struggles. I was fearless in spite of my vulnerability and God’s hand was on me at all times. Now, I created idols in my life and clang to them for so long until my soul was transformed and I became but a shadow of the person I once was.

When I rested for the first time last night in the assurance that God is going to take care of me, regardless on whether or not my husband returns, I told God that I’m putting my marriage and everything else in his hand. I was prepared to go through everything God was going to put me through, divorce, poverty or anything else, even my own death.

An hour or more later, my husband returned and apologised and so did I.
He was surprised by the peace he saw on my face.
He went to sleep and I sat down in front of the Mac to read the bible. Then the spirit led me to listen to a particular song (Though Art), then another, than another, and I was completely filled with the Holy Spirit to a point of shattering.
I then went to sleep and I had this dream:

This is another carnival type of dream where it seems like I have lived it during weeks and months on end. A lot is happening and so many people and faces. It’s like a Hollywood movie.

I don’t remember the beginning. But maybe the first point I remember from was being not well and decided to lay down in the middle of a busy road. I was covered by a blanket and by a structure for some sort and somehow I blended in the surrounding and no body could see me. But I could see everything around me and I was aware of everything taking place. I was wresting and I marvelled at the fact that I was able to be in the street without feeling exposed. Suddenly, a well dressed, glamorous  woman was passing by. She then suddenly, begun screaming and changed her direction running towards a side road that was opposite the side of road (the pavement) on which we both were. She tried to run fast, but her running was quiet slow actually. Other people started joining in the screaming and running event. No sooner than this happened, that I became aware of the reason to this, which is a marching army of terrorists coming, invading the place. But I wasn’t scared. I knew they couldn’t see me. I laid there low, exactly in my previous position, feeling normal, and looking at them as they were passing by me not noticing me!

The next part I remember was that I was helping in my children secondary school. I was doing a great deal and enjoying myself. I was interacting with kids from all ages including nursery children! It felt as if I lived with those people and those children. A lot happened in my volunteering position and through our organised, weird days out, in tents and so on. I don’t remember the details.
But at some point, I do remember being in a cafeteria or a kitchen, helping out, surrounded by the school’s staff. I was talking to the deputy head, then to other people, when the head master of the school (who is not acting as a head master anymore in real life because of ill health), was walking in the ground out side the cafeteria. As soon as he knew I was there, he pointed towards me from a very far distance saying that I shouldn’t be helping there in anyway shape or form because of conflict of interest, he said. And because I did help, I will be punished. The punishment was soon presented to me. I believe it involved the payment of a penalty for some sort. I remember seeing the punishment written and stamped. But I wasn’t very bothered about the punishment. My regret was more about not being able to serve in my kids’ school anymore.

So, he spoke from very far, yet I could hear him clearly although I was inside the cafeteria. I spoke to the deputy head again who confirmed that because my children attended the same school, I was not allowed to help. I thought to myself, well, you should have told me before! For some reason I was not very concerned about the punishment but I was disappointed by that and the fact that I was banished from there.

The time was mostly taking place in the dark now.
I saw myself, afterwards, walking outside and passed by an independent café where I saw my oldest daughter with a man; I knew it was her fiancé although I have never met him. Then I saw her saying to him; I don’t want you to meet my mother. Let’s pretend we didn’t see her. I thought to myself, look at me trying my best for them and getting this punishment for them, and my daughter is saying this about me. I went straight to her and repeated her sentence into her ear and walked away.

There was a good buy do with the people I used to work with. I felt people were sorry to see me go, but especially a small boy around four, asian looking, with beautiful silky black hair, big eyes and red cheeks.
He was crying very hard, kissing me and saying that he didn’t want me to go. I hagged him and consoled him as much as I could.

The headmaster, or someone else with authority I’m not sure who, has given me the task, which I think it was meant to be the execution of the punishment.
This task was to go with two men, one very big and darkish, but I couldn’t see him at all. Just a shadow of him. The other skinny, short and yellowish. Slightly far eastern looking. I think I was made to understand that I’m to fight with the big guy but that whoever wins me, wins me! Just like that.
We went inside a small building; a small house. The fight started. For some reason I decided not to take part. I wanted to look at the far eastern looking guy and study his moves and tactics in fighting. Half way through the fight I thought this shouldn’t be taking place. What does it mean who wins me, wins me? I didn’t want to be theirs and wanted to leave them both and run away.

Interpretation:
I do believe that getting tired and resting means death of the physical body, and the burial. But this also could describe the fact that I hardly go out.

The invasion of Islam could be physical or spiritual. All what I did after that was as a spirit. All the help I was giving the school was as a spirit. I was banished and was to go with two men who were to fight against each other and whoever wins, I will be his. This seemed to me like the war between good and evil. But how could this takes place in the spiritual realm, I don’t know.

 

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