I fasted from just after breakfast on 1/6 until breakfast on 1/9. The fast was fairly typical: I had a bad headache at the end of the first full day; but the pain went away by the next morning. I had one interesting dream during the fast, in which dream I was going to walk quite a ways barefoot to see ‘a good friend’. In real life this person is someone I dislike very much, owing to the person’s enabling some bad behavior that has dramatically hurt my family. Since waking from that dream on January 7, I’ve considered the possibility that I need to reconsider my self-justified loathing of this person.
On the morning of January 9, I woke up at 0300, unable to sleep anymore due to the effects of fasting. I filled two hours with prayer, Bible, Internet browsing, and chores around my place. At 0500 I ate my ‘break fast’. I got back in bed afterwards and fell into fitful sleep. I awoke a couple of times to check and reply to emails. I had to be at work at 0900, so I didn’t let myself get too far into sleep.
Somewhere before 0800 I had a dream, while vaguely aware that I was asleep and dreaming, of seeing a huge formation of flying dragons. They were coming in my direction, though not necessarily toward me. The dragons were arrayed beyond what I could see in my field of vision – up down, left, or right. They were like a wall headed my way, maybe a hundred yards out.
The dragons were all roughly the same size and shape. My primary observation was that they were small, and I wondered why there wasn’t a larger one to address me directly. I also thought, “Ah, so this is the Valkyrie. I always thought there was just one Valkyrie, but apparently there are many under that name.” Which is odd, because though I couldn’t have told you that morning exactly what the Valkyrie were in Norse mythology, I don’t believe in real life whatever I was thinking in the dream.
The dragons continued their silent approach, and eventually the mass of them began passing me by. Then the big one showed up. He was shadowy, somehow back-lit, and headed directly toward me. His shape was different than those of the uniformly smaller model. He looked like a pterodactyl. His approach was similarly silent, but his intent clear and ill. I stared as he loomed larger, his mouth opening as he closed in on me. I knew I was asleep and dreaming. Just as the creature got within a few feet of me, I forced myself to wake up
right into a text vision. It was like an explosion of newsprint flashing wildly off and on, similar to what you’d see in an old movie montage of newspapers announcing some important event. I couldn’t read any of the words, of course. Then in a totally different script and in static print, I saw the words ‘Trump shoot(something indecipherable)…’. The whole vision turned into words scrolling quickly to the left, across the pages of an open book. I was totally overwhelmed and could hear my shallow rapid breaths. If other visions had been subtle and cryptic mysteries, this one was a trip-wire grenade. I whispered, “Jesus, help me.” The vision kept going, so I assumed it wasn’t malevolent. Then it left. I lay in bed breathing heavily. I’d guess from first dragon siting to the end of the vision was ten seconds max.
By comparison the rest of my Saturday was pretty mundane.
A remarkable thing about the text visions has been that each one is unique. There have been similarities across visions as the phenomenon has progressed over the past however-many months; but each one has ultimately had its own distinct presentation. For some reason that uniqueness is fascinating to me. I don’t know that I necessarily expect them to all be the same thing. Given that I really don’t know what they are or what purpose they serve, I haven’t any context for expecting anything of them, really. All I can do is watch in surprise as one materializes and runs to completion. And then wonder if I’ll ever see another one and why I have seen them at all.
Like with so many things I’ve mentioned in these blog posts, I’m frustrated with the lack of apparent goal to any of this. The visions are interesting, to be sure. But they seem to serve no productive purpose. I struggle with viewing the visions (and other documented happenings) as mere gratuitous weirdness, like so many post-modern accessories to my sleep. I can imagine similar waning fascination if my shoes had begun regularly and spontaneously turning into ham sandwiches or some such. “Whoa! So crazy! WHAT COULD IT MEAN” becomes “Oh look more sandwiches hmm zzzzz.”
Which is almost a false complaint. All things considered, I know there’s a point. There has to be. I just don’t know what that point is. And I’m sick of not knowing. I’m sick of waiting for Whatever. I’ve been living in suspended animation since February of 2009, a man who goes places and does things and knows people but does not belong anywhere. Yes, it’s been great for my relationship with the Lord, this seven-year spacewalk. And He even gave me a surprise sister to provide a place of rest and commiseration. (For the record she believes this will all eventually resolve into something sensible.) But I’m tired of waiting. He whined.
I choose to believe He’s the one orchestrating much of what I’ve described in this blog. I just want to know that there’s A POINT TO ALL OF THESE PAST SEVEN YEARS or even farther back. I was created to be useful. I think I’m being prepped to be extremely useful. All I know right now is yesterday morning I had 1) a dream about dragons and 2) a text vision that left me out of breath.
On the morning of December 31, 2015, I had a noteworthy dream. There were enough details that it took me nineteen minutes to record a voicenote documenting them all. The vignette that is relevant for the tail end of this post went something like this:
My church was at some kind of retreat. There was a dorm-style building where the guys were staying. As I passed by a doorway, I saw a high school classmate of mine enter the building. He doesn’t go to my church. He appeared as he would have back in HS, not as he would today in early-middle age. I went to my bunk room and threw something on my bed so the new guy wouldn’t take my spot.
I was generally aware that I was really tired of being at the retreat. I wanted to get out of there. I went into our pastor’s bunk room. He was sitting on his bed. His roommate, whom I didn’t recognize, was in his own bed, piled up in the covers and apparently sleeping. I asked my pastor, “Is there any kind of timeline for us getting out of here? I’m really ready to go.” He said, “We just want to make sure everyone’s as prepared as they need to be.” The point being, I surmised, we couldn’t leave until everyone at the retreat had reached some optimal level of readiness for some unnamed demand. He added, “You have until October 15th.” In dreamtime October 15 was about two weeks away.
I woke up and was immediately skeptical, at 0357. “Another wait-and-see.” Then I realized it was the real-world last day of the year. Had I just been given a hint about when something conclusive would happen in my life, in the new year? There’s no way to know but to live until October 15 to find out.
The only other dream I’ve ever had in which someone called out a date for me was back in 2013. It was early September, and I had halfway left my church of nearly twenty years for the church that I’m attending now. (Although I’ll be going back to my former church one Sunday a month this year. Because of dreams.) My then-pastor’s wife asked me in a dream to come do something for them on September 29. Upon waking I had no idea what day of the week September 29 was on. <- A preposition. I checked my calendar and found that September 29 was a Sunday. So that seemed like a legitimately prophetic dream.