Last night I had a dream where I met a very scary-looking man. He was old, had white hair and a beard, and he was dressed in all denim and leather. He looked sort of like a cross between Santa Claus and a Hell’s Angel. I don’t know why, but I was terrified of him and tried to run away. He caught up with me – or rather, I ran into a room and he was already there waiting for me. (Since this occurred in dreamland, I guess no explanation is needed for how he got there ahead of me. The logic of how fast I can run versus the velocity of some old biker dude doesn’t really apply.) I tried to hide under a table to get away from him.
He told me that he was my father. It occurred to me that this man looked absolutely nothing like my dad, so he must be God. (Naturally.)
When I inquired about that, it turned out that yep, he was God, alright. He said that He had something very important to tell me. I don’t remember anything after that.
An aside: My grandmother died the day after Christmas in 1996. I had just met and moved in with Kris a few weeks prior – right before the semester ended for winter break. Kris needed a roommate, I didn’t want to live on campus, so: perfect, right? Anyway, I moved in with her, then went home and proceeded to have the Worst Christmas Ever.
Soon after the new semester started in January, I started dating this guy who Kris had just broken up with. They had been broken up for maybe a week (tops) when he hit on me, and I totally went for it because I was pathetically lonely and insecure at the time. I dated him behind her back because I knew it was a shitty thing to do.
At some point, my grandmother appeared to me in a dream, and told me to knock it off with that guy, because he was bad news, and because even though I didn’t know her very well yet, Kris was going to end up being one of my closest friends for the rest of my life. And what do you know, she was right on both counts. I don’t know if I really believe that people can appear to us in dreams like that, or if maybe it was just my own conscience that was rearing its head.
So, back to current day: what’s really bothering me is that if God appeared to me in a dream and wanted to tell me something, shouldn’t I remember the part of the dream where He told me some very important bit of information? What does it mean if I can’t recall what He wanted me to know?
The only other part of that dream that I remember is that I had to fly a plane by myself (no passengers, it was just a little crop duster-type plane) and it was crashing. Considering my fear of heights, I think that puts the whole dream firmly in the “nightmare” category. But I’m still confused about the God part.
Was that Nahnee???? (I thought she died in 1995) Dude, I “talk” to her all the time. She’s never “talked” back, but if I had a dream like that, I’d be totally sure it was her.
The God dream– hmm…. a simplistic explanation is that you’re supposed to face some terrible fear you have head-on and defeat it. Or not, I don’t know. Just a thought.
No, it was my other Grandmother (my dad’s mom) who died the day after Christmas ’96.
I thought Nahnee died when I was 18, which would be 1994. I’m not positive, though.
We lived in Dallas when you had to go to the funeral?
(I just thought it would be fun to stay off topic.)
God was probably giving you the winning lotto numbers.
Dreams come from within. Whatever God was trying to tell you may be something you already know?
I think dreams always have some internal meaning, usually whatever your brain has been churning over that day. I’ve never had important people like God show up in mine though 🙁
I must admit, I like the idea of a denim-leather-clad Supreme Being. Imagine the outcry when all the traditional churchy folk get to the Pearly Gates to find a tattoo-ed St Peter in bike leathers, staring them out over the rims of his mirrored Ray-bans.
I’ve often imagined God looking like Anne Richards on the cover of Texas Monthly back about 15 years ago, with a white Harely-Davidson dressed in a white leather biker-chick suit and her big-hair all coiffed up like a supreme bad-ass. So perhaps your dream really *was* God, only gender-switched.
This isn’t THE picture (different jumpsuit, same bike) but you get the idea:
Photograph of God:
If this were a man, would he look like the one in your dream?
HA! I love that photo of Anne Richards. No, my dream God didn’t look quite like that, he was much scarier. He had a bit of a dirty/homeless Hell’s Angel vibe going on.
Ann kicked ass. Her replacement has been a national embarassment. Am I really from Texas?
The TV camera man in that photo frightens me.
Oh god, I hadn’t noticed that before, but yowza! Those are some seriously short shorts. And a ginormous fanny pack. Scary!