The one in which Cal Whitley* is the debil...
* names changed in this post to protect the innocent (and unposessed)
I am always amazed at how the mind can play the most fun games with our thoughts all while we're sleeping. Some of my favorite dreams have been a mixed up blending of things that were on my mind, things in the news, past relationships, and subconscious fears all rolled into one wacky plot line while I'm deep in REM. It really makes you wonder why our minds do such a thing, when left unsupervised and free to roam our subconscious all night.
Such was the case last night. You see, last night I dreamed that Cal Whitley was the devil. Or, I should say, "the debil" if I were being accurate. But, let me back-track a little and explain...
It all started yesterday afternoon when my son asked several interesting questions and made one of those "where did he get THAT" kind of comments. First, he completely dumbfounded me with the, "What is God's last name, mom?" question.
Then, later when his Dad was playing his head-banger music off the radio, my son announced, "Turn off that music! It sounds like it is the devil!" This, of course prompted his Dad and I to simultaneous say, (Adam Sandler movie reference coming...)"Music is the DEBIL, Bobby Bouchey, and don't you forget it! It's the DEBIL!" He looked at us as if WE were possessed by the devil and said it again.
Being a girl who appreciates some rock songs, I asked him who taught him that. (Granted there are some songs that come on when my husband is driving that I censor right off before lyrics can be heard by our wee sponges.) He didn't have an answer, which makes me wonder if my seven-year-old is sneaking in and watching Pat Robertson's The 700 Club while we're all sleeping or something. It is completely out of his character too, as the child normally loves him some Axl Rose.
Later that evening, I went to a farewell party for our church's youth minister, a woman I have come to consider a friend over the past few years. We aren't extremely close, but she is one of who I call my two angels who have brought me into the church and welcomed me when I felt very much an outsider. Betsy is a really amazing person who really always looked out for the kids in the church, and especially those children who might not fit in or might normally feel like an outsider. Our church had to let her go because of a lack of funding and it is still something that upsets me to this day.
So, the farewell party had amazing attendance and was a wonderful tribute. And, that's when I spoke with Cal Whitley. Cal and I worked together to redo our church's website. He is the type of guy that you'd get from the name I made up for him, he's just a really nice human being. In fact, my husband and I went on a double-date recently with he and Betsy and wondered if they were, in fact, too nice for us! He's always very polished looking as if he's ready for work or church and always has a warm hand-shake and a smile on his face.
During the tribute evening of jokes and well-wishing, some made reference to how everyone tried to set both Cal and Betsy up multiple times (apparently, it is just platonic for them). The two just laughed politely at this. Soon after, I left for home.
Now, back to the REM stage... My dream involved my husband and me, and we were living in a hotel for some reason. During the dream, various people from our pasts would pop in to say hello and a few with flirty comments for one or the other of us. Well, it was all quite lovely and innocent until Cal Whitley showed up.
And then, this nice youth leader, clean cut Christian man that I've come to know, became the little red man with horns and a pitchfork, sitting on my shoulder throughout the rest of my dream. Suspicious things started cropping up between my husband and dear Betsy. And, Cal was there all the while, pointing out how I'd better open my eyes to what was going on with the two of them.
But, it was the way he popped up in the dream that was the most disturbing. It was as if he was trying to recreate The Sixth Sense or something. I'd be soaking in a bubble bath and look up and suddenly, there was Cal sitting across from me, his bare feet lined up with mine telling me something else horrible about my husband and Betsy, with an evil and knowing smile. I would be walking along and Cal would suddenly appear from nowhere and put his arm around me and mumble more atrocities in my ear.
And, when I woke up, I was shocked. Had I really dreamed that Cal Whitley was the devil? Whoa, Bobby Bouchey! What was up with THAT?
Of course, I realize with consciousness that it was my brain going whack-o again and nothing to be concerned about really. But, still...the next time I see Cal Whitley at the communion rail or kneeling to pray, I will feel a little giggle bubbling up inside and wonder...hmm, was it really all just a dream?
I am always amazed at how the mind can play the most fun games with our thoughts all while we're sleeping. Some of my favorite dreams have been a mixed up blending of things that were on my mind, things in the news, past relationships, and subconscious fears all rolled into one wacky plot line while I'm deep in REM. It really makes you wonder why our minds do such a thing, when left unsupervised and free to roam our subconscious all night.
Such was the case last night. You see, last night I dreamed that Cal Whitley was the devil. Or, I should say, "the debil" if I were being accurate. But, let me back-track a little and explain...
It all started yesterday afternoon when my son asked several interesting questions and made one of those "where did he get THAT" kind of comments. First, he completely dumbfounded me with the, "What is God's last name, mom?" question.
Then, later when his Dad was playing his head-banger music off the radio, my son announced, "Turn off that music! It sounds like it is the devil!" This, of course prompted his Dad and I to simultaneous say, (Adam Sandler movie reference coming...)"Music is the DEBIL, Bobby Bouchey, and don't you forget it! It's the DEBIL!" He looked at us as if WE were possessed by the devil and said it again.
Being a girl who appreciates some rock songs, I asked him who taught him that. (Granted there are some songs that come on when my husband is driving that I censor right off before lyrics can be heard by our wee sponges.) He didn't have an answer, which makes me wonder if my seven-year-old is sneaking in and watching Pat Robertson's The 700 Club while we're all sleeping or something. It is completely out of his character too, as the child normally loves him some Axl Rose.
Later that evening, I went to a farewell party for our church's youth minister, a woman I have come to consider a friend over the past few years. We aren't extremely close, but she is one of who I call my two angels who have brought me into the church and welcomed me when I felt very much an outsider. Betsy is a really amazing person who really always looked out for the kids in the church, and especially those children who might not fit in or might normally feel like an outsider. Our church had to let her go because of a lack of funding and it is still something that upsets me to this day.
So, the farewell party had amazing attendance and was a wonderful tribute. And, that's when I spoke with Cal Whitley. Cal and I worked together to redo our church's website. He is the type of guy that you'd get from the name I made up for him, he's just a really nice human being. In fact, my husband and I went on a double-date recently with he and Betsy and wondered if they were, in fact, too nice for us! He's always very polished looking as if he's ready for work or church and always has a warm hand-shake and a smile on his face.
During the tribute evening of jokes and well-wishing, some made reference to how everyone tried to set both Cal and Betsy up multiple times (apparently, it is just platonic for them). The two just laughed politely at this. Soon after, I left for home.
Now, back to the REM stage... My dream involved my husband and me, and we were living in a hotel for some reason. During the dream, various people from our pasts would pop in to say hello and a few with flirty comments for one or the other of us. Well, it was all quite lovely and innocent until Cal Whitley showed up.
And then, this nice youth leader, clean cut Christian man that I've come to know, became the little red man with horns and a pitchfork, sitting on my shoulder throughout the rest of my dream. Suspicious things started cropping up between my husband and dear Betsy. And, Cal was there all the while, pointing out how I'd better open my eyes to what was going on with the two of them.
But, it was the way he popped up in the dream that was the most disturbing. It was as if he was trying to recreate The Sixth Sense or something. I'd be soaking in a bubble bath and look up and suddenly, there was Cal sitting across from me, his bare feet lined up with mine telling me something else horrible about my husband and Betsy, with an evil and knowing smile. I would be walking along and Cal would suddenly appear from nowhere and put his arm around me and mumble more atrocities in my ear.
And, when I woke up, I was shocked. Had I really dreamed that Cal Whitley was the devil? Whoa, Bobby Bouchey! What was up with THAT?
Of course, I realize with consciousness that it was my brain going whack-o again and nothing to be concerned about really. But, still...the next time I see Cal Whitley at the communion rail or kneeling to pray, I will feel a little giggle bubbling up inside and wonder...hmm, was it really all just a dream?
Labels: dreams
posted by Crazy MomCat @ 9:30 PM
2 Comments:
Man, you have dreams like mine. Just the other night I dreamed my son's hamster (now dead) was dropped in a swimming pool and no one wanted to go in and get him. I finally did and he came right to me and jumped in my hands...weird
That is one weird dream! Which reminds me of one I had last week I should probably blog about--I was flying through the air, I think with my husband flying next to me, and suddenly we noticed Al Gore flying backwards in front of us eating a piece of fish from Long John Silver's! There was more to it than that, but that's the only part that really stuck in my memory.
Post a Comment
<< Home