I love my dreams even when they scare the bejeezus out of me, like trying to save a woman at the end of the world while cavemen were trying to kill me or the one about a big fat, really ugly, disgusting guy that I or no one else could please, he was so damn mean. I’ll never forget those two dreams. Don’t analyze them for me, please. The kind I love most is when they result in an “Aha” moment. Let me tell you about one I really love.
I was walking on a lonely, dark, dirt road and I knew it was the road of life. All I had was a flashlight to guide me and my feet were killing me. I reached the top of a hill and there was a big, bright morning sun on the horizon lighting up the fork in the road and a sigh post that sat right in the fork. The arrow to the left indicated the way to self-indulgent confusion and the arrow to the right fulfillment and bliss. I know I took the right road because I’m feeling love and acceptance from my world and the hand of Christ in my hand.