Last night, I had a nightmare. I dreamt my father was trying to kill me. The dream was so vivid. My heart was racing a little when I opened my eyes, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I suppose my thoughts were waging war in my mind, unbeknownst to me, while I just wanted to rest.
Dreams are powerful. To me, dreams are like mysteries of the spirit. When I dream, I believe something divine is trying to communicate with me. Which is why the Bible tells us of how prophets of old interpreted dreams. I simply pray and try to discern what God is conveying to me through my dreams.
It’s almost like when I was a child trying to listen to the radio or watch tv (prior to cable television and cell phones). As a child who grew up in the country far away from radio towers in cities and suburbs; I quickly learned how to manipulate antennas all sorts of ways so I could get a clear signal.
My spirit is very sensitive. It’s why I can’t watch just anything. I don’t allow everything into my spirit, whether it’s through my ears, my eyes, or my mouth. I don’t watch scary movies, and I don’t listen to music with a lot of cursing and negativity. I think it’s very important for my mental health that I focus my thoughts on positive things.
8 And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.Philippians 4:8 (NLT)
I’m very visual. I believe sight is the most important sense, next to taste.
It’s easier for me to forget something I heard, than is it for me to forget something I saw (it’s one reason why I like to write things down, so I can bring feelings and thoughts back to my remembrance). All to say… I am very protective of my spirit and I don’t know what sparked this dream.
One of the things which trouble me the most (and is the very reason I felt I had to write this blog)… this isn’t the first dream I’ve had where my father tried to kill me. This is a recurring dream I’ve been having throughout my adult life.
And, it’s not like I had the worst father, or I vehemently hated him. Plus, I don’t think of him too much. I definitely think about women, marriage, and relationships more than I think of him. And, since it’s close to Valentines Day, I wish I was dreaming about being with the girl of my dreams. Honestly, I can’t even remember the last time I actually dreamed about a woman (maybe too much info, but it’s real).
The Setting – The dream primarily took place where I grew up in Louisiana. It changed back and forth from my dad’s house, to my maternal grandmother’s house, then to a foreign place I’ve never been before.
From what I remember, the dream began with my brother and I visiting my father at his house. I believe someone else was with us. In the dream, we are all adults (probably in our 30s).
As I enter his house and walk around, I know my father doesn’t want to see me. So, I am a little nervous. I don’t know if my brother knew, but I inwardly knew my father wanted to kill me, as in the dream I remembered him distinctly telling me if he saw me again he would kill me. In an interaction or altercation, almost something like you would see in a western film.
Suddenly I see my father, looking outside the window. He’s walking in and out of my view. I know he sees my vehicle and knows I’m in the house. So I begin to walk outside the garage to avoid him.
The setting then changes to my maternal grandmother’s house. My father sees me and begins yelling and ultimately gets his gun and begins to shoot at me, while I run away down the driveway. As he’s shooting… time begins to slow down, like in the film Matrix, and I can easily dodge the bullets as they go by me.
I start running down the street as I get past the driveway. I then start to see neighbors and even police. I ask them for help. I am trying my best to tell them that my father is trying to kill me, but none of them believe me. So, I start to run through nearby alleyways, behind houses and under buildings, almost like in a James Bond film.
Finally, I get to a place where my friend is either working or living. And, I’m sobbing asking for help. He doesn’t know anything that is going on, but he is willing to help me hide from him. That’s the end of the dream and I wake up.
I believe the purpose of my dream was to remind me of the power fathers have over their children. It is so important for children to have a father who loves, affirms, encourages, supports, disciplines, and values them.
My father passed away more than 6 years ago. We didn’t have the worst relationship. We didn’t have the best relationship. I don’t feel like he ever knew who I was as a person, as he did not take the time to really get to know me. Oftentimes he was busy working. And, I don’t judge him for that.
My father also provided for me. He did a lot for me. My father loved me. I know this to be true. And, I respect and love him for that.
Nevertheless, we argued and fought a lot. That’s the truth… and, those memories and feelings still linger in my dreams to this very day.