Here there be reflection on three journal entries from 2013.
April 18, 2013
Important dreams, and my name is spoken.
Backstory to Dream 1, from a dream earlier in 2012 or 2013: There were multiple B-24’s; they had been in the war and had been left somewhere. A wave or storm came or they otherwise just magically ‘were’ in the ocean. Pieces of planes and whole planes were washing across the ocean, under the surface. Sunlight on the clear ocean water illuminated the aircraft. Some whole, some in parts. Washed across a terrifying abyss, bottomless black. Toward light and a new war, or at least something better. The staging ground for the new task is indistinct other than being obviously in bright sunlight.
This one is similar in ‘prophetic’ feel to the underwater bird from March 9. Underwater imagery. Potential destiny approaching. Positive vibe. Old becoming possibly new.
There’s a B-24 somewhere. A smiling young man carries a machine gun aboard the plane. This view’s background is a white wall, more like a personal home snap shot than a scene outside where a bomber would have been loading. Young man smiles at me and possibly waves at me. He looks to be about the age of the young men who crewed those bombers. He is possibly me.
I can’t tell if this is a video game or live action. There is a game board with pieces that are alive, flesh and blood, size undetermined. Human in appearance. They are like chess pieces come to life, only the game isn’t chess. First, ‘my’ team attempts to advance into the objective goal area. There is a route that suddenly appears undefended. One man races toward the goal. I am willing him forward. (I am watching, not actually controlling his actions.) He is shot or otherwise cut down at just the last second before reaching the goal. His weapon skids out into the goal area, even as he vanishes from the board. Then ‘my’ team is assigned to defend the goal. No more action.
This morning a storm woke me up at around 0500. I got up and journaled for a bit. Did a load of laundry. Back in bed by 0600. As I was dozing off, I was imagining myself explaining to JC how little my ex-wife means to me, how I’m not worried about her much now. And I heard my name in my head. I stopped my dozing thoughts, and the words reverberated amidst the sleepiness in my head. I’m pretty sure I didn’t think my name on my own.
Reflections: There’s a web of possible “bookend” and cross-connect elements to the sleeping phenomena here. The voice spoke my name. That didn’t happen again until mid-December 2016, when, right before the final stupidity, I heard a black woman’s voice call me “Mr. Joseph.” The bomber imagery was the last of it’s kind in my dreams until the December 2016 dream, the morning after the final stupidity, that showed a bomber that was destroyed right before its bombing run commenced. The game vignette was all about my team’s player/piece being “shot down” right before he reached his objective. Like the bomber in my December 2016 dream; like the bomber piloted by Richard Farrington and shot down near Regensberg, Germany. That shoot down was on April 25, 1945, and was memorialized in the Thomas Childers book Wings of Morning. I was reading that book during December 2016. In the game vignette my team was tasked with defending the goal, after we failed on offense. A bomber is an offensive weapon. A machine gun on a bomber is a defensive weapon, in context.
All things considered, I think it’s not out of the question that God was showing in me in April 2013 that I would fail to reach my ultimate objective. Or He was at least warning me away from consequences. Something. There’s too much overlap for this all to be strictly coincidental. The mention of my wife ties into something else that will take too long to describe here. This night and morning of April 18, 2013, was ridiculously significant.
October 13, 2013
Regarding a visit to man for whom several people were caring during his illness. The info at the end of this entry was the basis for the first post in this blog.
Today I took some drinks and dog food over to “C”. I walked his dog and visited with C for about fifteen minutes. His apartment is dark, messy, and depressing.
I asked C some questions about his cancer. He told me that he’d experienced symptoms for two years before getting any medical attention. The early symptoms were disparate, not apparently related in any way; and he didn’t see any need to go for an exam until he was already very ill. While he was describing this process, I thought of DS and a dream.
Two years ago or thereabouts, I dreamed of a middle-aged white guy who was laying down on something inside a small outside wooden enclosure. A black panther wandered comfortably into the enclosure where the man and I were. I lay across the man’s torso and ‘knew’ that he had stomach cancer. End of dream.
At the time I had that dream, I had no understanding of healing prayer and the potential for people to get supernatural knowledge of maladies before prayer. I have since then learned that some people have capability to discern a malady in another person and then successfully pray for healing of that malady. John G. Lake specifically mentioned being able to touch someone and then know where in their body a problem existed and what the specific problem was. That capability is exactly what I dreamed of, when I had no idea such a thing was possible.
DS is a local doctor who has had cancer for some time. According to what I’ve heard, his current labs indicate his cancer is no longer in remission. Unfortunately, no one can find where the cancer is located. DS knows enough of the routine to know approximately how long he has to live. He’s planning accordingly.
So DS and the dream came to mind as I was talking to C. I don’t know for sure what DS looks like, but I think he looks something similar to the man in my dream back in 2011. I texted DC, who knows DS well. We’ll see if anything comes of this.
Reflections: As of this writing, in May 2017, DS still has cancer. No one has been able to find the cancer. He says that, due to the way the cancer is hidden, by the time anyone discovers the physical location of the cancer, he will likely die soon thereafter. The black panther in the dream is, I believe as of last year, representative of the radicalized hostility in some black Americans in the 2010’s. There’s a really long story there that I’ll have to eventually blog, in order to make some sense of it all. Bottom line is, I believe in the initial dream about the black cat and the man with cancer, God was showing me something that He wanted me to do, something He wanted to do through me. To that end it is not all insignificant to me in 2017 that Richard Farrington’s crew was shot down in the B-24 Black Cat; and that one of the dreams signifying the end of potential, in December 2016, featured me damaging my eyeglasses (ability to see/have vision), right before a car driven by a black guy wrecked into me. I was unable to heal anyone in his car, and an authority figure ignored my efforts to get his attention regarding the situation.
December 12, 2013
Something about my coffin. It was open and lit from the inside as I looked at it from a few feet away. I don’t remember what happened before that scene. There was a vague impression that I’d been inside the coffin immediately prior.
The coffin was lit by resurrection power. I knew that I had been raised from some sort of death in that coffin. Room was dark, unlit but for the light in the coffin. Also a bit of light coming from an adjoining room. I decided I should go try out my new self. Looked again at the coffin and it was dark. The power that had pushed me out alive had worn off the box.
I went to the lit room. It was the kitchen in M/D’s house. TE was there, seated, facing the hutch, her back to me. R was there, too. I was preparing to pray for R. Either because she prompted me with a comment, or just because I wanted to explain, I told TE that after (something), we walk in new or increased power and authority. She told me, “We don’t want to get carried away with that.” Something limiting. I replied, “I’m going to keep trying.” I positioned myself behind the silent R, preparing to pray resurrection into her compromised organs. END.
Reflections: Sometime in November 2016, certainly by early December 2016, I was noticing 12:12 on the clock a lot. Out of the blue, and just like with 12:37, the time 12:12 was important, somehow. I think I mentioned that in an earlier blog post. Then the December 2016 bomber dream happened, and the voice told me that the bomber was destroyed at 12:12. My response in the dream was less than respectful. But I knew upon awakening that the 12:12 reference was just one more indicator that the dream was significant. When I was re-reading my 2013 journal in 2017, I was and was not surprised to see that the coffin/resurrection dream had occurred on 12/12. Extremely vivid and “important-feeling” dream, with imagery befitting the whole process, happened on 12/12/13. Right around three years later, the process came to an end.
Thus concludes our reflections on the reflections on 2013.