Dream Interpretations "R" Us

It's been a while. Mea culpa, shame on me and all that. The thing is, I often compose really great blog posts in my head while doing other things -- mostly things that require I distract myself just so I don't scream, like dishes or cleaning the toilet or pondering the state of the back yard. In my head I'm hilarious and articulate. When faced with a blank white box to fill with little black letters, not so much.

But there's nothing like getting something done like getting it done. (Yes, you can use that quote freely. You're welcome.)

I recently had lunch with a former mission companion. She and I had a great visit while munching on delicious Mimi's Cafe fare for a couple hours. I mentioned that I will go back and finish my education and she asked me what I would study. In that moment I experienced a moment of utter clarity. When I said I would study architecture, specifically so I can design houses that utilize resources within a particular environment (not that I'm an activist for green building in the sense that I HEART Al Gore, 'cause I don't, but what is wrong with using resources wisely?) the very air gelled around me and I felt that gut reaction of YES! Does that ever happen to you? I also get that feeling when I've reached a correct interpretation of my dreams. The spirit within knows.

When Husband and I had a chat about interpreting dreams last night, he had himself a good laugh about that gut reaction that I tried to describe. When he laughs I always have to laugh, of course (it's infectious), but I think he finally understood what I was trying to say. When I didn't have six kids, a husband, and a household to run, I had time to write down and ponder my dreams. I got very good at figuring out what my brain was rehashing throughout the night and learned to recognize that inner sense of...rightness...that accompanies a correct interpretation. That's why those dream dictionaries you buy at a bookstore are a load of hooey. No one else can interpret your dreams for you. It's not just the visual part of the dream that's important, it's the thought process and the feelings accompanying the visual symbols. And while the interpretation might be nothing more complicated than, "I was thinking about this movie I watched and this is how I felt about it," there's usually more going on.

Not that I am trying to get all esoteric on everyone here, but I just have one more thing to say on the subject, and then I'm done with it.

The fact that Joseph of Egypt could interpret the dreams of Pharaoh, or Daniel could interpret King Nebechadnezzar's (which is the best I can spell it without actually looking it up) dreams could only be a product of divine intervention. Why did Pharaoh and King Neb get disgusted with the interpretations offered by their advisers and soothsayers? Because they could tell, inside, that those interpretations were incorrect. They didn't get that gut feeling because the advisers didn't know all the thoughts and feelings that went along with the visuals. Only God could have known, and only through that revelation from God could Joseph and Daniel offer the correct interpretation, the one that hit Pharaoh's and King Neb's guts with a satisfying clunk.

Anyway, since I've already gone on long enough, here's a short list of recent events:

* Our big orange cat, Babe, got himself hit by a car and had all the fur ripped out of his tail. No broken bones, no internal damage, thank goodness; but his tail looks like a rat's. A rat who doesn't respect himself very much. Poor cat.

* Husband finished the entire first draft of his book, about 150,000 words! I couldn't be more proud. Now he's going back and revising, but after the first day of revising he came home absolutely disgusted. "It's like re-writing the whole thing!" he said. "The first chapters are awful! The flow is bad and I had such awkward sentence structure." Hey, I thought his first chapters were pretty good, but I did tell him as he went on that his writing was getting smoother and better. Practice makes perfect.

* Despite the inclement weather for the past month, the girls have gone to the neighborhood pool, which is outdoors, nearly every day . Sure, they come home in the stages of pre-hypothermia, but they have determined blue lips. Finally, yesterday, we had a sunny day and the pool heater was fixed. Hallelujah. The girls also came home very burnt, as they forgot to apply sunblock. Ouch. But now I can take the boys, since they won't freeze to death.