I had a wonderful dream last night that felt like it was produced by Hayao Miyazakim, except that the imagery was even more beautifully vivid than even Studio Ghibli’s works. I was on a train that was headed to paradise — in this case, represented by Key West. The train ran on a single rail (narrow path, single minded, not double), and made very few stops. It was completely removed from all of the traffic, etc., and flowed smoothly through the water on an express route to its destination.
At first, I was nervous about being on the train. I wanted to be in control, and asked my husband if perhaps it wouldn’t be better if we got off and drove to Key West instead. I wanted to be the one behind the wheel, in charge. He talked me out of it, and surrendering, I stayed on the train. I gradually became more and more relaxed and began to enjoy the ride. Looking over at the mainland, I was happy I had listened to my husband and stayed on the train. The people who were trying to drive themselves to Paradise were stuck in awful 24-hour traffic jams, over and over, and never reached their destination.
It felt like the 1950’s, because it was made VERY clear to all passengers that this train was NOT segregated. People of all ages, colors and socio-economic backgrounds were on this train. For a while, I was snuggled up next to a homeless black black man, resting. One woman bullied me out of my seat, but the next time I looked, she was no longer on the train. Some troublemakers and murderers were also removed from the train. This part totally reminded me of the song, “This Train Is Bound for Glory.” You know, “this train don’t carry no liars, this train, etc.”
The train had all sorts of different seating options. There were closed cars and also open cars where you could enjoy the fresh air and get a better view of the scenery. I started off sitting with a couple of folks who were on top of the train, but I became worried that I would fall off and went inside a closed car. In there, it was so hot and stifling that I had my face pressed up against the seam of the window trying to get some fresh air. While looking out that window, I saw another enclosed car full of people wearing snapping turtle costumes. They were in even more stifling conditions. Upon waking, I thought, “These are the very religious who are bound to doctrine and very fearful. They are snappish when others offer differing opinions. But still, they are on the train to Paradise — they simply aren’t enjoying the trip.”
I saw one of my sons sitting on an open part of the train with one of the kitties we had when he was growing up. The kitty came to me in the car I was sitting in (I kept moving from one car to the next) and gave me a tool she had found that enabled me to open the door of that car and move to one like the one my son was sitting in — open air, freedom, and room to move as there were very few others sitting in these “freedom” cars.
When I woke up, I felt so very happy to have seen one of my sons on this train. He has taken such a different path, but in his own eccentric way, believes in the saving grace of Christ. He is more guided by the Spirit than most, even though the bad ones try to throw him off track sometimes. I will keep praying that my other son gets on it as well.
The different cars on this train represent different beliefs about how to get to God, I think, and some are quite stifling. Yet none of those people who had surrendered their lives to God (instead of driving themselves) were going to miss out on Paradise. The thing that keeps ringing through my mind as I type this is, “There is freedom in Christ.” We can have a heck of a good time enjoying the ride.
I seem to be on a very definite path lately. It is a path that is pointing me away from all of the other religions and belief systems that I have enjoyed exploring whilst on my truth journey. It started two weeks before Sage left when my extraordinarily intuitive Holy-Spirit guided friend Meg sent me a video that pointed out how some of the esoteric things in the New Age were Luciferian, and I saw the selfishness and deception embedded in some of my own spiritual seeking and was alarmed. That night, I experienced demonic interference in my dreams, which only confirmed what I had suspected. I threw out every esoteric book in the house, and the next morning, not knowing any of this, my son Sage told me that he had lied about all of his spiritual dreams and visions. That he had liked the attention. He would tell me all sorts of fantastical things that he saw in the spirit realm, and I had believed him! This went on for six years! What he told me very definitely influenced my own belief system. So all sorts of things started coming to light. I felt that via my son, I had been guided down a path away from Jesus and real truth by a darkness that was working through him. Whether or not it was all truly a lie, I will probably never know, but I am quite sure that I have been misdirected.
The truth can be a bit difficult to get at, and there are always imposters willing to lead you away with their mixture of 95 percent truth and 5 percent lethal lie.
Enter the dreams. I love them. I am guided by dreams and impressions from God, and am much the better for it. For example, last week I was very sick with allergies, muscle and joint pain. It hurt to move for days. When I was lying in bed one night about to pray, I got this visual image of myself drinking lots and lots of water. I also felt a strong impression to stop drinking diet drinks and tea all day long. So the next day, I drank lots of water all day long. The day after as well. In just two days, all of the pain and most of the allergies were gone! Amazing! I know if I had went to the doctor with that list of symptoms, they probably would have handed me a couple of prescriptions and been a bit puzzled as to the cause of it all. So I value this sort of guidance very much.
My nights have been lit up with a number of dreams that are so very real and rich with symbols that I know I am supposed to pay attention to. Last night, I dreamed that I was at a party and saw a gorgeous prince. I was instantly enamored, and flattered when he began flirting with me. Soon, he told his mother to give me the engagement ring that he had been saving for his bride, and she put it on my finger while the family announced our engagement to the party. I had never been asked, but I was so swept away with it all that I didn’t say anything. Then we were alone in an intimate moment, and a diagram of the seven chakras was all lit up around me with all of the colors. Later that evening, he informed me that I would be doing exactly as he said in our marriage, and made it apparent that he would be controlling my every move. Upon hearing that, I got away from him…FAST!
Then I woke up because someone was pounding on the door at 3:30 in the morning. These weird things have a way of happening when I am supposed to remember a significant dream. It took me a couple of hours to fall back asleep, and then I began dreaming along those lines again.
This time, I dreamed that I was having an interaction with a yogi who ran some sort of shop. He gave everyone a paper with a poem to read, only it was backwards. I was able to see it in the correct orientation, and he was very disturbed that I could do so, as his intent had been to deceive. Then I dreamed that I was telling the story of the dream of the prince to others, and well, here I am doing that. That prince — marriage to his sort is not what I want! I am a bride of Christ, who offers the opposite of the prince — total and complete freedom.
I had had another dream about two weeks ago of being in a dark cave with a yogi who was grabbing my breasts. I looked up to escape, and saw a hole with brilliant light shining through. I was unable to get through it though — there was too much of me!
The Hindu/Yogi dreams are due to my having become utterly fascinated with Hinduism and yogis. The reason for this is that some yogis seem to manifest more Christlike behavior than we see here from most Christians. So I started reading a lot of books by them and was enthralled by the wisdom. Some things didn’t sit right with me, though. I believe in surrendering to God, not a guru with human faults. And I know we are not supposed to hide our lights by meditating 24/7. But things like yogic superpowers (kriyas) fascinated a woman who is determined that people should actually be able to go heal people as Jesus commanded. I also believe that the “getting rid of self” aspect of yoga is right on. However, these three dreams were a warning to get off that path entirely — an answer to prayer, since I am always praying to be guided to stay on the narrow path.
I’ve had a few dreams about witchcraft as well. I used to be into Wicca in my twenties, and left off that after so much darkness began to break through into my everyday life that I slammed that door firmly shut and didn’t have anything to do with spirituality in any form for many years after that. In the latest witchcraft dream, I was wondering if the Christian “word of knowledge” was the same as having psychic powers. (For those who don’t know, a “word of knowledge” is when you get an impression about someone that is true that you wouldn’t ordinarily know. I get it occasionally, and it has helped me to avoid some awkward and untoward situations.) In my dream, a witch friend said, “I’ll show you,” and put her hands on me and transmitted energy to me. When that happened, my mind was filled with black and white static patterns like you’d see on old televisions that weren’t receiving properly.
And then there was the Abraham/Law of Attraction dream. That one showed the Abraham-Hicks person impersonating Christ in his resurrection and having her followers take communion. When I put the bread in my mouth, I was instantly swirled down into a dark abyss. I spit it out and woke up. (I wrote about that dream in this blog post.)
Islam has also been in my dreams. In one of them, I was in a Middle Eastern desert, and there was NO water. A prostitute was able to get a few drops out of a faucet, and that was only because she knew how to love. All of the religious people in the dream were without a drop. In that particular dream, I was also shown a Christian church. In that church, there was a huge waterfall, but sadly, only a few streams of water were trickling down what had once been a conduit for a very powerful flow. Of course, water represents spiritual life.
The dreams show me that all roads point to Christ. Yet even so, it is not simple. I have been directed by a dream to not attend a particular church. And most churches leave me cold, to be honest. I’m not interested in playing religion — not even a little bit. But I am not worried, because I don’t feel alone at all! I’m so thankful for the guidance.
Disclaimer: This post has NOTHING to do with politics.
Last night I dreamed that President Trump was my father-in-law and was coming to visit. I frantically tried to fix up our little shack of a house that we bought to be our office. I went to the store, only 10 minutes before closing time, and was frantically buying a bed, a side table, curtains, etc. When I got home with the goods, I realized it was pointless to set all of that stuff up because we hadn’t even laid the floor yet!
But he never came. What he did was send us a plane ticket to New York. Once we were there, Ivana informed me that he had given us their luxury high-rise apartment — just flat out given it to us. I was in such a state of overwhelm that I started crying. She seemed puzzled that I would be surprised by this. After all, he was my husband’s father — of course he would want to take care of us in style! Nothing was required of us. All we had to do was accept the gift.
The next thing I was doing was opening all the windows and looking out at the beautiful view. I wanted to take photos for Facebook and Instagram to let everyone know what I had been given. At one point, I left the building and was stopped by the receptionist when I reentered. I thought, “Oh no, she knows I am an imposter!” but all she wanted to let me know was that I was invited to a family meeting.
Barron was there. He reminds me so much of Sage with his looks of sensory overwhelm. Demons were harrassing him, but I sang and many of them left. Even though he saw himself as a dark person (due to the demonic influence), he still lived in the mansion, and was taken care of. He was a child of his father. This part of the dream is unimaginably comforting to me, as I believe it is God’s way of saying that Sage is in His hands and is His child no matter who he currently thinks he is. Demons like to harrass the Father’s children, unfortunately.
Why Trump? In the parables of Jesus, so often the “King” was used to represent God. Trump, for all practical purposes, is the current king, and makes sense for this story, especially since he owns a mansion way up high and has a son who reminds me of my own.
So there is this mansion. Our Father has given it to us. It is so hard to believe that he would give us a gift of such majesty that we continue to try to fix up our shacks, trying to make ourselves acceptable to Him. But he already loves us so much. Once we realize that, we will sell all of our little shacks and move into the treasure that we have found.
Honestly, many of the dreams I have are as real as waking reality, if not more real. The things I am shown!
The first dream I had last night was of a large house with hallways that formed a swastika. I walked down one of these long, dark hallways and came to a dark room with a broken light fixture. It was Trump’s room. I am so hoping that this dream is in no way prophetic!
In the second one, my family lived in an duplex. The other family was a devoutly Christian family that I had known from the days when I went to house church. This family would avoid me whenever they saw me because they saw me as a heretic and a sinner. I became so very lonely! (This mirrors real life. I have not found church relationships to endure at all outside of the church building or home or whatever, except two.) In my loneliness, I went to an expensive life coach, who kindly sent me tickets to a conference featuring Abraham, the entity channeled by Esther Hicks. The whole Abraham deal is about how we create our own reality — law of attraction stuff that can be very right on. Anyway, I arrived at the conference, but because I hadn’t bought the expensive books, they kept me and the other people who hadn’t paid enough behind a curtain where we could listen to what was going on, but not fully participate. The life coach was there. When he saw this, he grabbed me and took me to the front row of the main row. There was some sort of play going on, and I participated in it. I can’t remember what it was about. Meanwhile, the judgmental Christian neighbor was there screaming about how we were all sinners who would have out-of-wedlock babies who would all end up on welfare. I told her that no one would be there if they found the love they were looking for in the church. At the end of the whole thing, Abraham-Hicks was lying in a coffin at the front pretending to be dead. Everyone lined up and went to take part in a rite that was the same as the Christian communion. This felt pretty weird, but I did it. As soon as I put the bread (which was PlayDoh) in my mouth, things went dark and I started to spiral downward into an abyss. I immediately spit it out.
That’s pretty much it. I’m thinking that narrow gate that Jesus talks about is quite narrow indeed. So many of us miss it. There is a lot of counterfeit things out there, as I saw in the vision I wrote about last week.
I’m seeing a LOT of false teachers. A Course in Miracles (supposedly channeled by Jesus) has always intrigued me, because like the Law of Attraction stuff, it has a lot of truth. Yet its writer died miserable and out of her mind by one account. And Marianne Williamson, the main teacher of it these days, is having a snit on Facebook about the election, being rude to her detractors and all. None of the peace and love that she has made millions preaching is on display. Several pastors on both the left and the right are showing little grace as well. It makes me aware of just how far we have to go, and how very elusive the truth that brings peace beyond all understanding actually is.
I’ve given the Law of Attraction a lot of thought lately. I’ve decided that yes, it does give a good picture of how reality actually works, and is likely the reason that Paul says to focus on things that are noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, etc. The thing is, when we try to create our reality in any way without being connected to our Source, the true vine, then things can get seriously messed up, because we are so far from perfect. And you can’t GET truly connected to God as long as you are still in your own will. That Source connection comes when you have surrendered your life and are willing for the Holy Spirit to work through you. So yes, you could manifest a mansion, but you are likely to also manifest several ugly things unless you are fully working in God’s will. I’m thinking Donald Trump is a master of manifestation. Yet he is not where most of us want to be, spiritually speaking. When fully surrendered to Source,
you are likely God is likely to manifest some really amazing things — few of which may be material.
For me, all of this simply points to what I wish I’d known long ago. That we can trust no teacher save the words of Jesus (and you’d better watch those interpretations that are out there!) and the teachings of the Holy Spirit. I love how I ask him to show me things and he does. My older son is having a very difficult time living in a different reality than our consensual one, and in his apparent psychosis, I said to God, “Please show me how to help, please show me!” and then listened. The Spirit simply told me, “Love him as if he were Jesus,” which reminded me both of Mother Theresa’s Jesus in “distressing disguises,” and of the dream I had about LOVE raising the dead.
I want to be on that narrow path. With eyes on the world, believe me that the entrance to that path will be obscured among the chaos. May our eyes be open, and may we be guided out of all delusion.
I’ve been doing this thing lately. I’ll pray, and then I’ll feel relaxed and sit back and watch what I call “God TV.” This entails me watching the back of my eyelids and saying, “Show me, God.” I don’t always see things, but sometimes I do. When I do, it is like a movie is playing in my head and I am watching it. A bit like a waking dream.
I was a white pawn on a giant chessboard. There was a savior chess piece that was like the queen who protected me with its superior moves. I just followed its lead, listening to its directions, and I was always protected from the black pieces. But then one of the black pieces got clever and imitated the voice of the white piece exactly. I no longer knew where to move unless I kept my eyes on the white piece at all times because they sounded exactly the same.
Sounds about like the delusion we are all susceptible to.
In this dream, I was working with kids who had been sexually abused. This one teenage kid had let adult men abuse him. I asked him why. He told me that he had hoped that God the father would somehow intervene, that he wanted a hug from God. I told him that sex with these older men was not the answer. I got out a package of bread to give to him instead. I said it would help. There were three pieces, but they were as stale as croutons.
I wish I had had fresher bread to offer.