I woke early and prayed for a while. After falling asleep again, I had two dreams:
DREAM 1: I keep seeing something about the Seattle football game. Or “the Seattle game”, which I decide is the Seattle football game. I just know that the Seattle game is a game between the Seattle Seahawks and the Dallas Cowboys. I am trying to find a schedule of the Cowboys season schedule, to see when they might play Seattle. I cannot ever find the schedule. END
DREAM 2: I see a black man wearing what appears to be an Islamic headcover. He is seated, facing me. I see his entire body framed in the view. He is not looking directly at me; his face is looking a bit off to my right. He speaks: “Your total will go way down if you will (something).” I think he is saying that the total number of days until some goal is reached will go down to the extent that I am obedient. WAKE.
These dreams are significant for a few reasons. I had been asking God for a few days if He was planning on sending me to any unusual locations again, along the line of WFPLI. And I had also been wondering aloud or silently to Him every few seconds if sustained obedience on my part might shorten the entire process, if we were indeed starting over. Because someone on January 23 had definitely told me we were starting over. Starting over sounded like death on a stick, after I’d spent so many years in the wilderness already. But if that’s where we were, then there was nothing to it but to jump in with both feet. And so I had asked.
If this day’s dreams meant anything at all, then, maybe they were direct answers from God. “Yes, you’ll be going to unusual places. Yes, you control the duration of testing with your behavior and, ultimately your heart posture before Me.” Either the dreams were from God, or they were not, as usual. Either they meant what I’ve suggested here, or they did not. I’ll just plan to stay alive and alert, and we’ll see what happens.
Something that adds some gravitas to this day’s dreams, in addition to the apparent messages that they convey: February 7 is the anniversary my wife and I separating. God has a warm tendency to reveal Himself to me on important calendar days. I had actually gone to bed the previous night wondering if He might mark such an inauspicious anniversary, especially in light of all that had happened in the preceding couple of months. Blammo, I believe He did. What better way to officially announce “starting over”. If it was Him marking the starting over point, I’m compelled to wonder how much shorter the previous years-long trial could have been, had I been immediately obedient to His call. That’s a depressing thing to contemplate. Better to focus on the chance to do it again and better and more quickly. Obedience to God is much more immediately natural for me in 2017 than it was in 2009. There’s at least that encouraging thing. We’ll see how it translates into any success in Phase II.
The Seattle game is an interesting bit. The Cowboys and Seahawks aren’t divisional opponents. So there’s no built-in regular meeting between the teams. The soonest they would meet would be in a pre-season game in 2017, although I think they did that it 2016. The next chance would be a regular season non-divisional game. The 2017 season schedule isn’t out yet; so we don’t know if there’s going to be a regular season meeting between Dallas and Seattle. Barring that regular season game, the next possible meeting would be in the playoffs. The last possible contest in the 2017 season would be in the NFC conference title game, prior to the Super Bowl. I think the 2017 season schedule is released in March. So we’ll know something in a few weeks.
(The preceding paragraph was written in late February. Since then, the NFL has released the preseason schedule. The Cowboys and Seahawks aren’t meeting in preseason.)
(The preceding parenthetical was written in early March, or soon after the NFL’s release of the 2017 preseason schedule. Since that time the NFL has released it’s 2017 regular season schedule. I’ll save that big reveal for later. Let the anticipation wash over you.)
I went to the church prophetic prayer rooms for the first time since the mid-November “YOU’RE ALMOST DONE” extravaganza. I generally try to go for that ministry every three months. I had actually been dreading going again, because of what I feared I would NOT hear. I fully expected that there would be no one telling me anything about being almost done with anything. I didn’t need any prophetic ministry to tell me that which I already knew. But I still didn’t want it confirmed in such a way; especially since such ministry as that had been such a huge encouragement to me along the last seven years’ journey.
But I went ahead into a room with six waiting people, only one of whom knew me at all. After they prayed for a minute, they began one by one to speak their impressions to me. Nobody said anything about me being almost done with anything. But they said a lot about peace. Of the six people, four of the six had a message that was directly related to peace, either in me or around me. It was pretty interesting. There were actually more people in agreement about “peace” that morning than there had been in agreement about “YOU’RE ALMOST DONE”, back in November. One guy in particular, on this Saturday morning, told me he’d heard “peacemaker” before I even got in to the room; as in God wants me to be a peacemaker; or maybe I already am.
I left the ministry time grieving the confirmation of loss, or at least the confirmation of a new direction. It wasn’t until after Mary and I had discussed things later that day that I had the perspective to be hopeful about what I’d heard that morning. A peacemaker is exactly the kind of person to be maximized in the racially-polarized United States, if nothing else. And my fuzzy recollection of the Beatitudes prompted me to remember a dream/voice experience from Father’s Day 2015. That morning, I’d heard a voice say to me in my half-sleep, “You will be my son.” I remember being a bit confused by the experience. I won’t rehash it. Bottom line is, after the ministry session on Saturday, what with all the references to peace and (especially) “peacemaker”, I thought about the Beatitudes. “Blessed are the peacemakers,” I remembered, “for they will be…” sons of God? I thought that the peacemaker was connected with declared sonship of God. I couldn’t remember for sure. I thumbed through my Bible to Matthew and found the first long block of red text. There it was, in Matthew 5:9: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.”
The same guy who had heard “peacemaker” also referenced Joshua, by way of piggybacking off another person’s encouragement that my footsteps take territory for God’s kingdom. Joshua, of course, was one of a faithful two Hebrews who both escaped Egypt and got to enter the Promised Land. Not even Moses made that grade. Then when Mary and I were talking, she discussed Moses in context of his failure and the fact that he was still one of the two people who were honored to appear with Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. He didn’t achieve his ultimate objective; but he was given a great honor, anyway. She then began talking about Joshua, a couple of hours after I’d first heard Joshua mentioned that day. She made some great points about Joshua, relating some of it to my journey. She began talking about Joshua at 12:37. Interesting enough, I suppose.
The most encouraging thing that whole day wasn’t anything someone said about me directly, which is a refreshing reminder from God. It was when Mary told me that she regularly says to God, “You know my heart.” As in, “No matter what I say or do, you know me better than I know myself. And you know that I love you, in spite of what it might look like on the outside.” I noticed at all that Mary said it because “You know my heart” is something that I’ve been saying to God daily since mid-December, at the least. “You know my heart, God. You know that I love you. I just suck sometimes.” Anyway, when Mary told me that she tells God the exact same random thing that I do, my weeks-long grief exploded into joyful disbelief. “NO WAY!” In that one split and improbable second, God took my lament refrain and turned it into a massive celebration of a struggle shared with the sister that He gave me several decades before either of us realized it was coming. Weight lifted, at least for the rest of that day.
Thank you, Lord.
DREAM 1: someone hands me a can of food and asks “Hey, do you have this?” The label shows something that looks vaguely like green beans or asparagus. I never can tell. And I have plenty of time to wonder – the hand holds out that can for several seconds while I inspect it. There is nothing on the can label that says what’s in the can, as far as I can tell. There’s quite a bit of text on the label. But the only words I can make out are, first, “Creole”, at the very top; and then “Redbar”, at the very bottom. Redbar is situated where I’d expect the type of food, like corn or peas, to be labeled. But it is written in smallish letters. And what is “redbar” at all, much less in context of canned food? WAKE.
After waking I wondered about the cryptic thing in the dream. I did an Internet search for ‘Redbar’. Turns out there’s a bar called Redbar in Wisconsin. It’s a biker bar in Milwaukee, so I figure there’s 0.0% Creole influence there. Maybe Redbar is an allusion to Baton Rouge, where’s there’s surely a Creole presence. Was it a God dream? No telling. There was only the one actual Redbar result in the ‘net search. I fell asleep again.
DREAM 2: I am reading something about someone (The Big Three? Me and my kids?) watching an Indiana Pacers game. After that there is something about a headdress ban. END.
I don’t know if these two dreams meant anything important in real life. Fact is, I don’t know that any of the dreams I’ve mentioned in the January and February blog posts mean anything important in real life. I’m throwing a bunch of stuff against the wall to see what sticks. If there’s anything to the “starting over” revelation, I figure there will eventually be some patterns to emerge. The patterns will make for reasonably interesting blog content. But dreams are pretty unreliable, in my experience. I know now, for one tiny example, that the woman about whom I’d dreamed on January 21 of having sinus problems has never had sinus problems in her life.
I was more truly guided and informed by visions, “spoken” instructions, hot spots, and coincidences over the past couple of years than I had been by dreams. And I don’t know that I’ll ever have visions again. That dream voice in January had said, “You will never (something) again,” while I could see some vague image while hearing the words. Given that I haven’t had anything like a text vision since the King Kong thing back in December, there’s a decent chance I’ve seen my last vision. Point is, Wichita Falls-Portland-Long Island all happened due to one whispered instruction. No dreams needed. The Donald Trump stuff was all visions and coincidences. No dreams. God seems never to do the same thing twice, so we’ll see if dreams become a bigger player in Phase II.
This is all pretty iffy stuff, and don’t recommend anyone try it without a safety net.