Humor

Life Can Be a Series of Dreams

by James Snyder 
10/07/23
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Lately, I’ve been having some fascinating dreams at night. Usually, I don’t give much thought to dreams, but lately, I’ve been thinking more about them.

Last night, for example, I had this exciting dream, and everything seemed to be coming in my direction, and then I woke up before the end. Once I woke up, I did not know how the dream ended.

I tried thinking about the dream, but I could not remember any elements of that dream. While dreaming, everything was very clear, and I even noticed people I knew. Then, I woke up and couldn’t remember anything.

I’ve been having these kinds of dreams lately. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older, and my brain has nothing else to do. I wish I would not wake up until the dream was finished.

I asked The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage at breakfast if she knew about a certain building. I then described that building in as much detail as I possibly could.

She finally nodded at me and said, “That doesn’t ring any bells with me.”

I’m the only ding-a-ling here; if she didn’t remember that building, it never existed.

It had to exist somewhere, and I needed help figuring out where in the world I saw that building.

Then I said, “Do you remember…” And I described a person that was in my dream.

Again, none of her bells were ringing on that one either.

“Why are you asking me these questions?”

I explained to her that these things were in my dreams and I couldn’t remember where I saw them last.

Thinking about this throughout the day, I realized that my life, in general, is pretty much like these fading dreams I’ve been having. None of these dreams made sense after I woke up. While I was dreaming of them, they made sense, but when I woke up, all sense disappeared.

Maybe life should be more like that. If I didn’t wake up, I would know what was happening.

One time, at a conference, I drove through a little town and saw several familiar buildings. I had never been to this town before, so I couldn’t figure it out. But it came to me.

These buildings were in my dreams the other night.

So, as I was driving, I began to think, am I dreaming, or am I driving?

I guess it doesn’t make any difference one way or the other.

If I could remember my dreams, my life would change a little bit for the better. But I have these wonderful dreams and wake up before they’re finished and then don’t remember anything about them, which is rather sad.

I tried an experiment the other night. I went to bed, had my prayer time, and then decided to invent a dream for the night. I’ve never done this before and was not sure how to do it. I tried to put together all kinds of little suggestions of my dream that would catch.

In a few minutes, I was sound asleep. The next thing I knew, it was morning, and I was awake. I lay there in my bed thinking, what happened to that dream? It was the first time in weeks that I did not have any kind of a dream. That made me a little frustrated.

For the next few nights, I tried the same experiment all to naught. Where in the world do these dreams come from?

That morning at the breakfast table, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage looked at me and smiled and said, “I had the most marvelous dream last night.” Then she told me about her dream and how it ended. She remembered everything about it.

What disturbed me was that was the dream I was trying to create for myself last night. How in the world did she get my dream?

I’m beginning to think she can get inside my head whenever she wants, which is much more than I can do.

All day long, she was smiling, and once in a while, she would remember something of that dream and share it with me.

That evening, I decided to ask her about her dream. “How did you get such a wonderful dream in your head last night?”

Then she talked for quite a few minutes, explaining how all of that came together in her head.

“Why didn’t you wake up before the dream ended?” I asked with anticipation.

“I make it a habit not to scare my dreams away like some people I know,” she explained.

“What you mean by that?”

“Well,” she stuttered a little bit, looking at me, “I do not snore when I’m sleeping which is what scares dreams.”

I got the implication that I snored at night, which scared my dreams away, which was a little difficult for me to understand. I see and hear my dreams but have never heard me snore. How does all of that work?

Life is not built on dreams. I was reminded of a Bible verse. “Therefore we are always confident, knowing that, whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord: (For we walk by faith, not by sight:) We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.” (2 Corinthians 5:6-8).

My faith in God is what guides my daily life, not my dreams.