A very young woman, extremely pregnant, enters. She gives birth to a baby boy, but the birth process does not occur. At one moment she is ready to give birth; at the next moment she is placing the baby in my arms. He is beautiful!
In the purity of dream intention, from my depths I speak in that way one speaks in dreams: I want to rear this beautiful baby! I want to take care of him as he grows, even though I am old! I know deep within, in that clarity of soul that is exposed in dreams, that tending this baby is now my life purpose.
In dream fashion, somehow the young mother has disappeared from the scene. I hold the baby, and we see some framed photographs on a small table in an adjoining room. The baby amazingly speaks. He tells me all about who is in the photograph, and explains the person's life and that the photo was taken in 1924. He speaks more and tells me many fascinating things.
I am astounded and exclaim to a priest and a few others who have appeared across the room. "This baby is amazing! He knows things no infant would know. Not even adults would know what this baby understands and speaks!" The priest shrugs and says, "That baby did not talk. He's a normal baby."
He takes the baby from me as we enter another room. He sets the baby on a sofa upon which several people are sitting, including a couple children. They are watching a TV set, and the children are horse-playing. The baby is ignored even though he is propped amidst the people on the sofa.
I watch from across the room, as if not noticed, but I complain to the priest who is nearby that no one is tending the baby! I was stunned to see that no one notices how amazing and beautiful is this baby boy and am unable to enter their space. I can only watch, fearing he will fall unnoticed, from the sofa's edge.
When I awaken from this dream, only then do I recognize who is the young mother and who is the infant: Mary and Baby Jesus. The other persons in the dream are symbolic of some of us who are distracted by things of the world, or who are religious in vocation yet seem not to see with inner sight, the spiritual realities in our midst.
I ponder this dream and am surprised that my first words and instincts were that I loved that beautiful baby and wanted to take care of him as my purpose in life even though I am old. Age did not seem to hinder the desire, although briefly I did recognize that yes, I am old and not as capable, perhaps. But still, overwhelmingly, with certainty, I would rear this child!
And the baby's young mother had immediately placed him in my arms, then simply, dream-like, disappeared into backdrop haze from the immediacy of the dream scene. The more I consider this purposeful dream, its significance heightens my awareness.
This is what came to mind :) .
ReplyDelete"And Mary kept in mind all these things and pondered them in her heart." LUKE 2:19
My writing is my heart, pondered here for other hearts, any hearts. No one must be afraid. Be not afraid. Be it done unto me according to Thy will. Does it help anyone? I will never know. It is nothing for me. My heart is a bleeding, heart-pumping blog. Does this make sense?
ReplyDeleteWhat comes to my mind is: Be not afraid, cast out into the deep, and follow naked, the naked Christ. Once I was told that these things are not just for me; they are for everyone. Freely given, freely give. Those who understand will, and those who do not, won't. Some will benefit, others will not. I am to write, to teach men and women how to stabilize their emotions through spirituality. Perhaps others might now consider rearing Baby Jesus, in every present moment, if they read the dream and other matters that I will share for those who want to receive. I am not Mary but Baby Jesus' poor surrogate caretaker.
ReplyDeletenothing, forgive me the room I left in my comment for misunderstanding and possibly offense. You thoughtfully and thoroughly and prayerfully consider everything and are uniquely open to our Father in doing so. That's the comparison I was making. <3 , K
ReplyDeleteKathY, I am going through a stripping this Lent that has me needing to accept that I must accept that I go against the grain. I really don't thoroughly consider everything; I really don't. I frustrate others often. I know my writing is atypically too personal for what people would say ought to be the proper Catholic way. I probably should write more and explain that! I am not offended but rather pushing myself through my own barriers and self-built brick walls. I am accepting that I am not what many people expect I ought to be or ways I should act. It seems a constant scrutiny going on, and I am stripping myself for them so they won't have to strain to look. I hope you are laughing at this, for joy. I did misread the intent because I currently am being asked to figure out what it is about me that bothers people. Daring to be open about spiritual matters is one thing that many find disarming. Amazingly, I am all the more dropping from the temporal, the norm, even the temporal Catholic norm. I must be able to breathe.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad for the further dialog, and thank you.
ReplyDeleteAmazingly, nothing, our experiences seem often to parallel! I, too, have known: "I frustrate others often ... I must accept that I go against the grain ... I am not what many people expect I ought to be or ways I should act ... figure out what it is about me that bothers people." Ouch! and Praise God! in the same breath. In my case it seems to be a matter of inexplicable Catholicism conflicting with a non-Catholic history, exacerbated by an unconventional way of 'being' throughout it all. (Personality-wise, I'm in a minority, as perhaps you are.) God, bless us one and both :) . Amen.
Yes, that it is! What is it about us that bothers others? It surely must be something we are doing or saying? So I kind of wrote about it, in way too many words, how unfitting in our time or any era it is to follow naked the naked Christ.
ReplyDeleteAnd maybe then to accept that one is simply not going to make others comfortable, naked, or ever really get used to being naked in a shrouded world.
ReplyDelete