What Dreams May Com

Finally, a solid nights sleep with deep and stirring dreams. In the morning light I vaguely remember the longest of them. There were several. Just before I woke up I remember being with the paternal side of the family with my Aunt Bev and the kids. We were sowing sock monkeys – huge piles of monkey parts and a giant fancy sewing machine with many threads and big wads of thread knotted up and turning out perfectly synchronized stitching. She called my sister and me to the kitchen where it was smoky and dirty and told us how our father had died.

The siblings of the family were gathered for ice cream and as he was masticating a large bite he took a breath and fell over dead. All the funeral arrangements were on a funeral flyer that had handwriting all over it, the services were at the Wesleyan church which was the second funeral I was attending this week at the same church. Highly out of character since my father has always waffled between claiming he’s a Satanist and Agnostic. I’ve been wondering for some time, I feel it coming that I will have to face the demons and call them out.

We are going through a series on Spiritual Warfare at church right now and I’ve also committed to completing a leadership training series called Cell Groups. This is something I tried to start back at New Song but the leadership at the time wasn’t behind it and I don’t think I was the right leader for it at the time. Most of my secular friends would think that I’ve gone off the deep end if I were to share the memories of that time of life (childhood, not church). I don’t even know how to write about it and give justice to the experience. It’s straight out of the Twilight Zone to be honest. My brain, in its infinite wisdom has faded the lines between imagination and reality of my childhood. As I become stronger pieces are beginning to emerge – memories that I am now mature enough to handle.

For example, this morning I am viewing the steel pile in my mind. It would be the location of where the steel pile was in the later years. The same steel pile that was brought to the house piece by piece from wherever he found them and added to the A frame structure, towering 15 or so feet in the air. It was behind the little garage, the one that was, at least the last time I was out there, still standing. I could draw this today, and may do so. In the front of the steel pile was a 50 gallon metal drum sitting upright. The tree where Genie was chained was just in front of it with enough room to walk between her area and the garage.

That’s all for this morning. My alarm is going off and I was an hour late to work yesterday due to brain freeze. I’ll have to noodle on this memory today and see if anything else emerges.

Be well.

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