Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Fiery Red

I had a dream last night. It was a dark and stormy night. *cue mysterious music* My entire family and I were flying on a jet - my dad was the pilot - and recently there had been a terrorist attack where American planes had been bombed out of the sky. As I was sitting there, I saw another plane a little ahead of us and abruptly said, "I hope we don't get bombed."

Sure enough, the bottom of the plane opened up and out came a... a helicopter. There were others, but only one came out. We were unable to change course and the helicopter came over and started dropping these very round black bombs about the size of basketballs. I felt my heart lurching around, my mind just waiting for the sound of explosions and hoping that I'd stay in the plane as it crashed because I hate freefalls. I heard thunking and slipping sounds on the outside of the plane and the first round of bombs just slid off the plane past the windows. More came. For some reason, my dad came from the cockpit and our plane started descending.

I'm going die, then, I thought. I'll never get married or have kids, I'll never become a photographer or write any more books. I'll be so glad to be in heaven, though and God planned how long I was supposed to live. I hope I don't stay alive much after the crash, skewered on a piece of metal or suchlike.

Strange thing - this is hard to say without sounding morbid - I was glad my whole family was there and we were all going to die together. I would hate to be the only person to die and leave everyone else to miss me and make me feel guilty (although, I don't think you can feel guilty in heaven). ^_^ Somehow, though, the bombs didn't explode (the helicopter dropped them too close above us and they didn't get enough momentum to explode when they hit our plane) and our plane managed to make a belly landing with no one steering it. What do you know! Haha, then I was trying to tell someone about what had happened and she thought I was making it up. I wasn't... in my dream at least.

Anyway, all that to say, I wasn't scared of dying in my dream. I just kept waiting for everything solid and gray around me to turn to fiery red and so excited to see Jesus. We have a God who CONQUERED death! We don't have to be afraid. A Christian is immortal until his work is done.

Anyway, I'm planning to write more serious posts now. HAHA, good luck with that. OH! it's 11:11! I'd better publish this post!

R<3

Listening to Jesse McCartney - Beautiful Soul
=P

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