I’ve been beset by dreams lately.
Mostly, they are about my career. I want to change. I want outta here!
I don’t like call-centers. They are a pain. Out of 7.5 hour days, I’m on the phone about 50 percent of my day. The other portion, paperwork, is fine. I tend to like paperwork. I’m strange like that.
My dreams focused on things that are a part of my day. The public transit system. Old houses. Things of the past that were a part of my daily life. On occasion, strange objects pop up. In yesterday’s dream, I removed a door via its hinges and the top of the hing turned into a grenade. I grabbed it, accepting that the house that it was in, was so old, that it wouldn’t hurt me. I even gave it to a construction worker, after telling him that I had grown up in the neighborhood. He shrugged and accepted it. (I don’t know what he did with it. The room was so dysfunctional, that I could barely walk. I had take a portion of the door as a prize as a souvenir.) And I believe that I went about my business.
Scripturaly, I think of the potter and clay example. God is changing me (at my request) to be more like his son. And I believe that when I comply, he blesses me every now and then. And that blessing includes cleaning up some cluttered and dysfunctional areas of my life, that I don’t want anyway. Maybe even areas that I once considered hazzards. (hence the mention of the grenade) and maybe that God gives me the courage to handle an explosive situation and it doesn’t go off in my hand, as I feared.
Maybe. Although I will stay away from any grenades that I find, just in case! ðŸ˜‰