Tag Archives: dreams

Processing Dreams

Posted on by under Emotions, Inner Healing, Peace

Journal 2018

I dreamt last night that my daughter was dating a Black boy who had a chip on his shoulder because he thought I was prejudiced. I felt defensive that anyone would think I was racist. I woke from my dream as I was lecturing him about how color blind I was and how I was more interested in how he treated my daughter.

What concerns me is that I’m afraid I do struggle with prejudice or prejudgment because of where I grew up. The prevailing colonial superiority in Nigeria at the time and my mother’s response to the people we worked with set the tone for pride in my little heart. I could tell you many little incidents. I have long since repented of my attitude, but if I have a dream like this, I suspect something still lingers there.

Visual. I see a baby lying supine in a box. Curious, I start to pick her up and discover her entire backside is open, raw, oozing, bleeding. Horrified, I quickly release her and disinfect my hands, repulsed by the baby’s condition.

I am powerless to fix this baby. When I ask Jesus about it, I get the impression that this baby represents some wounded part of my heart. I think of the verse “The heart is deceitful” (Jeremiah 17:9) and realize I’ve been fooling myself about not being prejudiced. I DO judge.

“So, Lord, what are You going to do with this child? She’s grotesque.”

“I’ve already died for her,” He replies. “She’s already whole and healed.”

Sure doesn’t look like that to me. I feel disgusted.

“Pick her up,” He commands.

I’m loathe to do so, and I’m not even sure how to do it. All her insides will fall out if I move her. It’s like my stacked cookie cutters. If I try to lift one out, the rest get left behind. The irony of the metaphor is not lost on me, however. Humans are not cookie cutters. Or maybe we are all cookie cutters made in the image of God, but individual as snowflakes. Some are small, others large, but we all are used for the same dough, and the cookie tastes the same no matter the shape or size.

Somehow that image is what I need, for as I gently lift the baby, the blood on her backside washes away and skin begins to grow, leaving scars in its wake. Embarrassed, I’m tempted to conceal her in a blanket, but I refrain. I try to embrace her, but she’s stiff, like she’s been burned. I looked to Jesus. “Help her,” I plead, And He does. Her body begins to soften, and my heart begins to melt.

“Thank you, Lord, for creative dreams that propel me toward healing.”

Note: I’ve discovered the key to processing negative dreams is to focus on the presenting emotion. Usually there’s a memory attached to that emotion that contains some unresolved pain.

Processing Dreams

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Peace

Journal 2017

I dreamt last night we exchanged houses with some neighbors. Little by little, we carried our stuff into theirs while they moved theirs into ours. We had no help because all our friends were old, and we needed to care for them in the midst of the chaos.

What was my brain trying to sort out in my sleep? The whole scene felt chaotic and stressful. Am I anticipating Christmas?

Visual: I’m standing in a canoe, and a strong wind knocks me out of the boat. The shallow water poses no threat, but I’m peeved that I’m soaked and cold. Jesus invites me to join Him by a fire on the beach.

“You know,” He says reflectively, “I made the ocean, I made the wind. Heck, I even made the canoe!”

“Jesus!” I exclaim, “You’re not supposed to use the word heck.”

“Why not?” He replies. “I made that too!” And He laughs.

I don’t think it’s funny. Hell is no laughing matter.

“Hell itself? No,” He says soberly. “But creation, yes.”

“Karen,” He continued. “You don’t like being in a rocky canoe, do you? It’s too …”

“Wet!” I smile. “And I can’t get anything done. I have a long to-do list, you know … goals to accomplish, places to go, things to do.”

“That’s the issue, then, isn’t it? You’re feeling the shakiness of time.”

“Yes, Lord. I crave uninterrupted time alone to think time and to plan.”

Now that I understand what I’m fretting about, I need help sorting it out and setting it aside.

“Will you teach me, Lord? I trust You to bring to mind what I need to know and what I need to do and when.”

A 2025 Update. I’ve learned over the years not to ignore upsetting dreams. I pay attention to the emotion I feel when I wake up, and with the Lord’s help come to a place of peace. What a difference it makes in how I approach the rest of my day!

AI-generated

Messy Relationships

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Peace

Journal 2017

I woke up from a dream in which I felt extreme rage. My friend had rearranged all the cupboards and shelves in our bedroom, and I hated it—it was disorderly, ugly, impractical, and inconvenient. I was surprised at the vehemence I felt. Where did that come from?

I realize that these shelves reflect how my friend’s brain is organized. It’s different from mine. No wonder she has difficulty coping with life. The curious thing is why she rearranged MY shelves and cupboards. I did not give her permission to do so.

I’ve always had a strong sense of space and personal belongings. Growing up in boarding school, I owned one pencil, one pen, and one notebook, and I knew at all times where each was located. All our belongings were clearly labeled with our own names, and we understood the boundaries of personal property. The only things we traded were marbles, which were won or lost in competitions.

Order meant safety and comfort. Lack of order felt chaotic and out of control. How much of that is temperament and how much was my attempt to control my environment? My two dresser drawers were always neatly arranged because we were rewarded in the dorm for tidiness, but I seemed to gravitate toward that lifestyle anyway. My mother recalls the time that my big sister and I were instructed to set the table at home one night. In typical fashion, Grace hurriedly flung the silverware onto the table while I came behind her straightening them.

When I ask God for insight, Jesus takes me by the hand, and we fly high up into the atmosphere. “See My universe?” He says. “I like order too. The planets and atoms are all in their orbits.” Yet there’s more. Asteroids break loose and crash into the earth.

“What does all this mean?” I enquired.

“There’s a both/and.”

I scratch my head, puzzled.

“I made order. I created it. I created you (and your temperament) to have order and logic and straight lines. Yes, you function well when things are orderly. Others I fashioned more right-brained to think more creatively. They get flustered and feel boxed in when things are too lined up in a row. Do not berate yourself for how I created you.”

I knew there was a “but” coming.

“But relationships are messy. People are not robots. You can’t have a relationship with a robot. Yes, I made an orderly universe, but I also made people. People can disrupt your orderly world.”

Just then, Peaches our cat jumped onto the bed, interrupting my writing as she rubbed against my pen and demanded to be petted.

“Did you mind the interruption to your orderly thoughts?” enquired Jesus.

“No, because she made me smile. I knew it was temporary. It is relational. I can’t have relationship with a pen.”

“Exactly.”

And with that thought, my rage dissipated. I’m glad God made us all different.

Keeping a Dream Alive

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Scripture

From my 2013 Journal.

Reading a biography or memoir may be interesting, entertaining, or even inspiring—but rarely life-changing, unless it intersects with my own—when I identify with the character in some way.

This morning I read Caleb, the spy’s story in Joshua 14. At age 40, he saw a piece of property he wanted in the land of Canaan, but because of the Israelites’ rebellion, he had to wander with them for 40 years in the desert. At age 85, he asked leader Joshua for that same territory, determined to rout the inhabitants with God’s help. Talk about keeping a dream alive!

Caleb’s faith sharply contrasts with the descendants of Joseph who complained they didn’t have enough land for their families. Joshua said to them, “Go clear the forest and you’ll have enough” (Joshua 17:17-18).

“But they have iron chariots!” they whined.

I can see Joshua rolling his eyes. “You’re numerous and powerful; you can do it.”

So I try to connect with this story. What dream have I held onto? Some dreams, I know, I must grieve and let go. But if God-directed, what excuses do I use not to fulfill it? Sometimes I need patience, endurance, and perseverance to wait.

What dream have you kept alive?