Worries, and Volunteering.

Last night I was up and down with the dogs all night. (Once again, I gave them some people food that didn't agree with their stomaches.) But the good part of that is that I was able to catch multiple dreams. The first I caught was at around 12:00.
I was with my friend Mitzie in a back yard (mine supposedly)of a New York town house. Bible study had just ended and we were talking about the painting I just finished for her. (A painting I really did just finish yesterday.) As we talked we got fruit off of a tree. The discussion was about things she wanted to add to the painting. She wanted to add some poppies on a hill in the background. I was a little flustered that I was no longer "done" with the painting. When we finally looked at the clock it said 3:00AM. We mentioned that she had stayed for four hours since study time. Then, as we were walking to the front door we noticed it was open. "That's not good." I was shocked and had a fleeting thought that a burglar had gotten in my house, but when I looked out the door I noticed my dad sitting on the brick stair railing that butted up against the porch. I could see people and ambulances and other 3:00AM type sights on the streets of New York around my house. My dad was looking forlorn watching and waiting. I asked what he was doing. He said, "Savannah's not home yet." (That's my 18 year old daughter.) I knew what that meant. When she did get home she would be in DEEP trouble, and her car would be taken away. The rest of the dream was just standing there looking, waiting, and thinking about where she could be. Was she in danger? Was she out with her boyfriend? hmmm.

There were two other dreams between then and morning, but all I remember from them are scattered images and a song, so I'll skip ahead to the one I had just before waking up at 6:00.

I was volunteering at a woman's shelter (probably thinking of a book I'm reading called House of Hope). I had walked through the building and then around the block. When I came around to the back door I noticed a large pile of feminine products. Someone had dropped off a donation of pads, razors, tampons, aspirin, q-tips, etc. I started gathering them into my arms, and taking them inside. A woman told me where there was a bathroom that I could stash them in. It took me a few trips but the moment I was done I was ushered into a multipurpose room with cork boards along the wall covered in construction paper with rick-rack edges ala-elementary school style. Some had things pinned to them, others were empty. There were plastic and metal chairs around the room and people started to filter inside. The pastor from my church told me to grab some things off the wall and put them away. I went to the wall and found injection viles and other types of medical looking paraphernalia. I was taking them down while Pastor Scott was having the women sit in chairs. I took the stuff outside where I assumed there would be someone to pick them up, or perhaps I was waiting for another donation. I'm not sure, but there was a litter of puppies outside that needed my care. So I started loving on them. Then I woke up.

The first dream is pretty obviously about two things I'm worried about. I want to be done with Mitzie's painting, as it has been on my to-do list for a year now. And I'm worried about my daughter getting into any furthur trouble because my husband has said the next thing to be taken away will be her car.
The second dream no doubt centers around my book. I've mentioned before that puppies in my dreams usually refer to youth. I tend to work with youth more so than with women my own age or older.

The River to Heaven

Before bed my daughter showed us a YouTube testimony of the man who spoke at the event she was at last night. He shared of his near death/actual death experience in which he was in a "river" on the way to hell. When he came back to life he was a changed man and has been prechin' about it ever since.
With that in my mind, and with various other people from my morning at church swirling around in my head, this is the dream I had:

I was in a kitchen with several people from church, and my mom. Jada (a little girl at my church)was running around the kitchen island and I was brushing the crumbs from the party onto the floor so that I could sweep them up. After I swept the kitchen (around people's feet) I took Jada and her brothers down stairs where the laundry room was. Through a window we could see a huge tidal wave coming. I told the kids that we should get back up stairs to their mommy quick! We all ran up the stairs and just as we were coming through the door at the top of the stairs, the wave hit. Instantly we were all gone, no pain, no turmoil of the wave, nothing, just all of a sudden floating down this vast river. There was water as far as I could see on either side of me. I couldn't see anyone else and I wondered if I was dead, or just in the sea after the wave. Then a light came over the horizon in front of me and flooded my vision with it's reflection on the water's surface. I was overcome with the biggest smile of my life. Then I saw a rope stretched across the expanse of the sea with square flags every few feet that had pictures of Disney princesses on them. I saw Belle on a flag that also had my name written on it. It said "Ms. Mikie Spencer" right above the bust of Belle in her yellow ball gown. (Belle is "my" princess. She is the one I look most like, and was a nickname that my ex had for me.) I passed directly under the flag of Belle and on down the river/sea. Then there was another rope with the same flags across it... and in the distance, another, and another. I had no control over the pattern that I was floating in and I was going faster and faster down the river, but I always passed directly under the Belle flag with my name on it. I got all giddy thinking about how perfect the aim of my floating was. I knew that God was guiding me. I also knew that this was the river to Heaven and that each princess picture represented another person. I could never see the end of the water to either side, and the flags were every couple of feet all the way across the water.
I woke up briefly and rolled over.
When I fell back asleep my dream had changed and I was going around asking people I knew who their favorite princess was. I was looking back in my memory to remember if I saw that princess on the rope or not.

I know there are not as many Disney princesses as there are girls going to Heaven, (in my second dream two people answered "Hermione" when I asked them who their princess was,) but this is dream language, not reality. It's obvious to me that my mind needed to think of princesses and that's all it had to pull from. They needed to be personal, and I can't think of one woman I know who doesn't have a "personal" princess. I know my daughter's princess is Sleeping Beauty. I have two friends who claim Snow White. Who do you claim?

The dream was very satisfying. The happiness (both with my smile and my giddiness) was overwhelming, but peaceful at the same time. I love dreams like that!

"Too Much Blood Under The Water"

I have one painting done for my show in August, and many more to go.
I had a dream last night that is begging to be painted... and so it shall be.

I had a great time at church this morning. One of my favorite speakers came and he always lights a fire under my butt. He asked us to close our eyes and think of the biggest thing God could accomplish in you this year...a miracle... a goal. I had a big thought, it did not involve art, but just a message that I want to get out there. Instantly after the prayer was over my dream from last night flooded in my mind with a piece of the puzzle of the message I long to deliver. I had not even thought of using the dream painting show as a way to get the message out there... but sure enough, my dream last night, though very personal, fit right into the message.
The dream involved me and my BF from college, Ramin. He is Iranian, a Muslim by birth. I have tried calling him, writing him, etc. for two years now with no response. In my dream on a bridge, I asked him why he wouldn't hang out with me anymore, and he said, "there's too much blood under the water". I hugged him tightly and told him I loved him anyway.
There was more to the dream... like my mom walking near Ramin, but also unable to speak to him before I went to talk with him. Me sitting with my friends Vanessa and Michelle at a restaurant while my mom told me to go talk to Ramin. And before all of that me on a tram with my friend Rachel. But the only words I remember and the most profound part of the dream was on the bridge, so that is what I'll paint.

My painting will be Ramin and I on a bridge, fantasy style with a layer of water, and then blood under the water... with symbolism of Iran/Islam, and Israel/Judaism + Christianity in the blood. It'll be powerful I think. It's far bigger than Ramin not talking to me. It's the entire Middle-east conflict pictured in our interaction.
Makes me teary.

Unwanted Visitors

Last night I had a "visitor". I have been a victim of horrible nightmares in my past while I was leading a ministry. It was at that time that I started reading about dreams. I found that some people believe that demons can influence our dreams, and some believe that demonic nightmares are God getting us ready to deal with demons in real life. I have decided I stand in the first camp. Mainly because when I wake up and tell them to go away in the name of Jesus... they do. Anyway, through the years I have programmed myself to wake up the minute I realize that I am dealing with a spirit. Some times I feel heaviness on my chest, and other times it's just the imagery that alerts me to their presence. Last night my dream started going south when my sister's pale decapitated head was laying by my pool. The image didn't go with my dream at all. (I think it is true that they cannot see our thoughts, so they just have to hope the imagery that they whisper to us "fits".) Well, it didn't fit, and I recognized it immediately. In the dream I told myself, "that is not there, look again". I looked and it was gone. Then I felt my breath being sucked from my face. (I was on my side, so no heaviness on my chest... but I have never experienced this sucking sensation before, so it was a bit scary.) I felt a little like Harry Potter encountering a dementor. I woke up immediately and started to pray. In 2 or 3 minutes I was back to sleep and all was well.
I only bring it up to say... if you experience demonic nightmares, don't hesitate to insist that they leave. At His name all powers must submit. Program yourself to wake up to intrusions just by simple self talk before bed. After all our sub-conscious is still very much a part of our mind.

"Upstream"

Well, it has begun.
I have officially started my first "dream painting".
I actually started three yesterday and trashed the first two.
My husband encouraged me that I can't expect to get this right on the first try. I've never done it before... It may take time. I shouldn't assume that the first one I do will actually go into the show in August.
So I cut myself some slack and started another one thinking that it may end up in the trash too.
The painting I'm working on today is a dream from two days ago.

The dream went like this:
My friend Olivia and I were in an elevator trying to get to the 5th floor. There were digital clock type things sitting on pedestals around the elevator. Each one displayed the #5 in some way. I kept pushing the #5 on all the various screens and buttons, but we never went anywhere. At one point we pushed 7 accidentally (because the numbers on the clocks changed)and went to the 7th floor, but we stayed in and tried to push 5 again. The time was moving so slowly that Olivia started to deal with a lady behind a bank desk about her house mortgage (all inside the elevator). Finally we got out at the lobby which was a huge room like at a train station/mall with white marble floors with black tiles interspersed. Ahead of us down a long grand hall was a man dressed like a guard of some sort with another man in a trench coat standing/floating above his head. I announced to Olivia that the man on the guard's head was an angel. We saw the grand staircase to our left and decided to use it to get to the 5th floor.
As I walked up the stairway I was no longer with Olivia. My dad was with me. The stairway was now outside and it zigzagged like a typical outdoor stairway with gaps between the stairs. To the left of the stairs was a waterfall. At each landing the waterfall had a small pool about 4-5 feet long, just like the landing. There were coy fish swimming up the waterfall like salmon going upstream. At one of the landings I stopped to rub the scales of one of the coy, soothing it, trying to let it rest. Then I let it go again. At the next section of stairs I noticed that a red nose pit bull was swimming upstream. She was trying her hardest to make it out of the waterfall, but just like the coy, she was going up, not down. I knelt by the side of the small pool and pulled her out of the water. Then, pit bull by my side, we made our way up to the 5th floor. In the room, the dog rested. I was thinking about the pit bull's energy level and how she must be so used to swimming all day that she may be too high energy for someone like me. She was all muscle. There was no fat on her body, and you could see her ribs. At least for now, she was tired and would be resting for a long time. The scene changed and I was now bringing my new dog secretly down the back stairs (metal, like a fire escape, but not like a ladder) to go to the bathroom out back by the dumpsters. I found an old chain and a bike lock and made a leash out of it. I also found a small contraption that looked like a shower head from an old motel. At the bottom of the stairs on our way back up an old janitor stopped us and asked about the dog and the chain. He claimed that the chain was his and of course that I was not supposed to have that dog. He asked for the shower head contraption. It was supposed to tell the history of what it belonged to... in this case, the dog. I was scared that it would show that the dog belonged in the fountain, doomed to struggle all of her life. But instead, as he opened the top, by turning it half a turn to the right, it just let out a shot of air, no history. I was free to go and take the dog with me... though I did give back the old chain and bicycle lock to the janitor.

As I was painting just now, I was overwhelmed by the emotion that I had seeing this poor pit bull swimming upstream. God gently whispered that He too cared about the mistreatment of the pitties around the US. Pit bulls and their mistreatment is a subject near and dear to my heart, because my baby, my precious 4 year old dog, is a pit bull. He is brindled and beautiful. It breaks my heart that pit bulls around the country are being killed because of breed legislation. Others are being fought, others are just misunderstood and feared. The dream was obviously about the struggle that pit bulls face, but what about the rest of the dream?
Well... the coy also swimming upstream speak to me of my other friend Barbara. She has coy fish that will let you pet them (well, they let her pet them). She is dealing with an "upstream" battle now, and though I'm no real help, I can provide a small rest.
The part with Olivia in the elevator is dealing with her wanting to get to a place of redemption. 5 is the number of grace, redemption, provision, and the like. We tried and tried to get there in the elevator. She even took time to go to the bank while waiting. But in the end we had to climb stairs. The easy way was put on pedestals... but it didn't work for us. As we charted our course in the grand hall we saw a guard with an angel. I had to point this out, it wasn't obvious to Olivia... but it was comforting, and it was inspiring. It sent us on our way. Now why she wasn't with me on the stairs I think is just a break in the story of the dream. I didn't need to dream about Olivia anymore because MY part with her was done... Now I was on my own stair climbing journey. My dad being with me, was just a picture of God with me, helping me to help my friend, and the pit bulls.
The old chain and the back stairs to the dumpster were symbolic of me just using trash to care for the pitties. I don't "DO" anything. I just post about them on facebook, and say nice things about them to people. There is no real sacrifice on my part. The fact that no history showed up from the "shower head contraption" speaks of a clean slate. God's perfect plan for these dogs is to not have a stereotype attached, no prejudices. I'm left with the question, now what? What do I do with that?
Well... at 12:00 I'm heading over to play a game with Barbara and her daughters.
My husband just yesterday asked which charities I would like to give to. I have never given anything substantial to a non-Christian charity, but I think this year I will be helping the pitties in a bigger way.
As for Olivia, I'm not sure I need to do anything. I'll have to talk to her and see how it's going. ;-)

Dream Art

Eureka! I've hit the mother-load.
After my long silence I did some praying, and was a bit overwhelmed with the response.
I knew God was doing something, but I wasn't sure what.
I had promised to write down my dreams (as you can see from the last post), at least in my own journal, if not on here. Well, I didn't. I'd wake up after a night full of dreams and say, "those were silly, obviously just about a TV show, or about some random thing I saw yesterday", so I would dismiss them as unworthy of being written down. Then I had a dream one morning that I fully intended to write down, but the minute my head left the pillow, it was gone. This happened for a few days and then they disappeared completely for a couple days.
I'm no dummy, I knew it was God's way of saying, "who says YOU get to pick which ones are worth writing down? Didn't you ask for dreams, and I gave them to you?" That night I had my husband pray with me for me my dreams to return, and I promised I would write them down... again. This time I kept my promise, and so did God. I had four dreams that night, and I've had four every night since.
I have written to you before about the importance of three in one night.
Well, here I am having four each night, and thinking, "OK, what's THAT about?" So I asked.
It's about creative abundance. The number 4 (biblically speaking)is about God's creation.
Four elements: earth, air, fire, and water.
Four directions: north, south, east, and west.
Four divisions of a day: morning, noon, evening, and night.
Four seasons: spring, summer, autumn, and winter.
(There are lots of other 4's, but you get the picture)
Me having four dreams each night just showed me that God gives us over and above what we ask for, and that creativity is meant to play a role with my dreams.
I'm not sure if I've mentioned on here before my thought of doing paintings about my dreams. It has always felt overwhelming to me. Dreams are so BIG visually, and seem impossible to capture. I know I can't make paintings of exactly what I see at night, but it occurred to me after much thought, that the message of the dream is what's important, so If I can capture that, then yes I can paint my dreams. The idea of painting my dreams has been glaring me in the face all week with the mass amounts of dreams I've been having.
God knows that I do not work well without a little pressure of a deadline, so on Wednesday when I went to pick up my art from our Swell Sister group art show, I asked about the owner's offer to have a show of my own some time in 2012.
I am happy to report that I now have the deadline of a show looming in my future... in August 2012. I will be creating (hopefully) a whole show's worth of dream paintings. Of course I'll keep you posted on which dreams I paint and how that's going.
I will, most likely, start with all new dreams, as they are in abundance these days. But if by chance I have a dry spell, I will look back over old dreams too.
Just in case you have any favorites from the blog, let me know, and I'll see if a painting pops into my head. :-)