LIFE

on wings of angels

 angels and weird dreams

I had a really weird dream awhile ago.  I was in this house, don’t know whose house it was, and there was this angelic “force” hovering over it. For some reason there were lots of other people, strangers, in the house as well. I was terrified.  We all were.

forces

forces

We locked doors and windows and cowered inside.  The “force” kept swirling around the house.  Colors blended together inside the swirls from one to another in the same order as an artist’s color wheel.  It was breathtaking.

Years later (still same dream) I found myself back at the same property once again.

The house was gone, only the concrete basement remained. 

basement

basement

At one end of the basement there was a set of stairs. The steps were covered with sand.  I walked over and began brushing off the sand off one of them. I felt something. I love finding “treasures” so I began to brush off the sand with greater care.  I finally unearthed the object.

It was a cement statue of an angel. Not a grown-up angel though.  A child-like angel. But it wasn’t your typical stick-in-your-garden type statue.  

The look on this angel’s face was fearful not angelic.  

I had the uncanny feeling that she had been trapped and turned into stone.  Was she the whirling dervish I saw? 

Or was the stone angel me?  Was it me that was feeling buried? Had the whirling “force” been my life? Had the whirling force been sent to help, not harm?

angel and child

angel and child

I almost never remember my dreams.  Why did I remember this one?

I can think of all kinds of explanations but I think the one that makes the most sense is that I was scared.

That period of life was fraught with conflict.  There were responsibilities looming in the horizon. I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to handle the responsibility. I was scared that it would interfere with my life.  Scared that I’d disappoint myself. Scared that I’d disappoint God.

Just plain scared.

Scared thatwould turn into stone.

While I was in Brazil a few years ago I wrote a piece of prose. I came across it shortly after this dream.

Coincidence?

You decide.

“Angel’s wings capture my fears and hopes

with their feathered tendrils,

holding them close.

Taking flight, they spread their wings,

and scatter my fears in abandon over the wide horizon.

But my hopes stay safely tucked away

under their feathers.  

My soul is restored.”

on eagle's wings

on eagle’s wings

God bless and I hope you have a good day.