Are you a dreamer? I’m not speaking of future hopes, but when asleep; do you have dreams? For the most part my dearly beloved doesn’t. The few times he has, he tries very hard to remember them to tell me; but alas, by the time morning comes the dream is gone.

I, on the other hand, have them more frequently than Dave. Mine are considerable longer, very detailed, and memorable. None of them make any sense. I wish I could understand where they come from and if there is any meaning to them.

To name a couple; I had a dream back when Dave and I were dating. I still remember it. I was on some sort of game show; it might have been Lets Make A Deal, because I had a choice of three doors. I think I opted for door number 3, and it was a whopper. I won seven tons of cat food. The dream alone was foolish, but at that time, I had lost my dear cat Boots. He came by his name rightfully; a black tomcat, with four white feet. He was a big boy and a marshmallow at heart. Boots took a liking to one of my slips. When I left it out, he would jump at the opportunity to massage his claws in it and suck as if he were nursing from his momma. He was so well-fed that, when laying out in the sunshine, the blue jays would dive bomb him. He didn’t care. If he had not died, I could have fed him, and every other cat in the state of Michigan for life.

A more recent dream placed me where I am today, the community of Asbury. A couple old ladies uninvited, barged in our home, don’t ask me where they came from, I haven’t a clue. But they completely took over, getting rid of our furnishings. I mean completely; no counters,  cabinets, sinks, appliances, all was removed! They had few things of their own, mostly clothes; and refusing to leave. I screamed. I yelled. I ranted and raved. All to no avail. They would just nonchalantly move into another room in the house to get away from me. If you knew these homes; they pretty much have an escape route in any given room. And Dave? He just shrugged his shoulders, saying we should just make the best of the situation. Excuse me? Yes, I was more than a little mad. So mad I woke up realizing it was just a dream. Except for our clutter, our home was all in place. The least these little old ladies could do is clean up a little bit. Can I dream of that? Nooo.

Dreams run as far back as time exists. I’ve read in the Good Book of Joseph’s dream of future greatness. That didn’t set well with his siblings. Ultimately, he did reach a life of greatness, but the crap he had to go through to get there…no thank you. If you want to read it yourself, you’ll find it in Genesis chapters 37-47. Sorta lengthy, but a roller coaster of a read. In that true story you will read how Joseph also had the ability to interpret dreams. It bode well for one guy, not so much for the other, including a kings dream and the fate of a nation. Ya can’t make this stuff up.

Maybe this recent dream stemmed from the horror of Ukraine our TV brings into our family room. Dreams, whether of future wishes or via our sleep can become a living nightmare that we never imagined. Now that I think about it, maybe I don’t want to know what my dreams mean.

Whatever our future holds, the Good Lord will see us through it if we ask him to.