Sometimes a dream will stubbornly cling to my subconscious mind, randomly inserting itself into my thoughts until I take the time to write about it. What follows is my recent adventure into dreamland.
I'm driving past my church, on my way home, and glance over to the left to see the large, old cemetery in the back. I drive across the narrow bridge, go into a spin and end up flipping the vehicle, skidding to a stop on its side.
Before we go any further, let me point out that I am not afraid to drive nor am I contemplating death as the cemetery may suggest. I drive up and down that particular road quite often these days and have never had any problems with it.
I have only been in one car accident which happened on the first Friday of this past October when I was crossing from the parking lot of the church which houses the preschool where I work into the parking lot of the credit union directly across a busy street. The driver of the other vehicle was in a hurry leaving the credit union drive-way, as he would later say, and did not notice me as I had the right of way. Making his hasty left-hand turn into my minivan seemed like a scene in slow motion. We were not injured; the minivan was totaled.
I would have to make a statement later, when the driver decided we were both at fault, and I would have to reiterate that I had only burst into tears because it was a new experience that kind of shook me up and I only said I was sorry because I was sorry it had happened--not that I was liable for the damages. Because I was not--as I continue to hold out hope that any day now a check for the deductible will show up in my mailbox . . . but, I digress.
Back to the dream.
What is strange is that as I am in a vehicle on its side, I am not confined in my seat although I know I was wearing a seatbelt. I am completely free and crawling around with much more room than would have existed in my vehicle. I am uninjured as far as I can tell. Apparently there had been a patch of ice and it is winter. Since it is a country road, it is also dark. I cannot find my phone to call for help. The interior of the vehicle, which I cannot even see, seems more like an ice cave than the inside of a car. I run my hands up and down the sides looking for a door, a window, anything I can identify, but come up blank. Everything seems to be solid ice. In the pitch black darkness, I am alone.
I sit in the dark cold knowing no one can hear me or even see me. I have no way of knowing whether I am still on the road, in the ditch or in a field. I wonder if this is going to be how I die. I have absolutely no idea what to do.
Before going totally numb, I see flashing lights and hear the sound of men's voices. Even though I am in desperate need of rescue, a part of me cannot help but wonder why it seems I am always rescued by men. Maybe it has something to do with my Christian beliefs and the person of Jesus.
I wonder if they are going to need to cut through something to get me out and so I back up, away from what I think is the side of the vehicle. I then notice a window being rolled down FROM THE OUTSIDE.
It has been a long time since I have had a car with old-fashioned, roll-down windows, but to my knowledge a vehicle has never been designed with the handles on the outside of the doors.
As the window opens and the light shines into my dark, ice-cave surroundings, I see a man's face--a man I cannot identify. He smiles, but does not speak. His eyes are his most noticeable feature. The only way I can describe them is that they are not brown, blue or green, but all color combined and yet devoid of color. Clear. Shiny. Filled with inexpressible joy that he has found me. Warmth radiates from his smile. I am completely safe.
I wake up.
I'm driving past my church, on my way home, and glance over to the left to see the large, old cemetery in the back. I drive across the narrow bridge, go into a spin and end up flipping the vehicle, skidding to a stop on its side.
Before we go any further, let me point out that I am not afraid to drive nor am I contemplating death as the cemetery may suggest. I drive up and down that particular road quite often these days and have never had any problems with it.
I have only been in one car accident which happened on the first Friday of this past October when I was crossing from the parking lot of the church which houses the preschool where I work into the parking lot of the credit union directly across a busy street. The driver of the other vehicle was in a hurry leaving the credit union drive-way, as he would later say, and did not notice me as I had the right of way. Making his hasty left-hand turn into my minivan seemed like a scene in slow motion. We were not injured; the minivan was totaled.
I would have to make a statement later, when the driver decided we were both at fault, and I would have to reiterate that I had only burst into tears because it was a new experience that kind of shook me up and I only said I was sorry because I was sorry it had happened--not that I was liable for the damages. Because I was not--as I continue to hold out hope that any day now a check for the deductible will show up in my mailbox . . . but, I digress.
Back to the dream.
What is strange is that as I am in a vehicle on its side, I am not confined in my seat although I know I was wearing a seatbelt. I am completely free and crawling around with much more room than would have existed in my vehicle. I am uninjured as far as I can tell. Apparently there had been a patch of ice and it is winter. Since it is a country road, it is also dark. I cannot find my phone to call for help. The interior of the vehicle, which I cannot even see, seems more like an ice cave than the inside of a car. I run my hands up and down the sides looking for a door, a window, anything I can identify, but come up blank. Everything seems to be solid ice. In the pitch black darkness, I am alone.
I sit in the dark cold knowing no one can hear me or even see me. I have no way of knowing whether I am still on the road, in the ditch or in a field. I wonder if this is going to be how I die. I have absolutely no idea what to do.
Before going totally numb, I see flashing lights and hear the sound of men's voices. Even though I am in desperate need of rescue, a part of me cannot help but wonder why it seems I am always rescued by men. Maybe it has something to do with my Christian beliefs and the person of Jesus.
I wonder if they are going to need to cut through something to get me out and so I back up, away from what I think is the side of the vehicle. I then notice a window being rolled down FROM THE OUTSIDE.
It has been a long time since I have had a car with old-fashioned, roll-down windows, but to my knowledge a vehicle has never been designed with the handles on the outside of the doors.
As the window opens and the light shines into my dark, ice-cave surroundings, I see a man's face--a man I cannot identify. He smiles, but does not speak. His eyes are his most noticeable feature. The only way I can describe them is that they are not brown, blue or green, but all color combined and yet devoid of color. Clear. Shiny. Filled with inexpressible joy that he has found me. Warmth radiates from his smile. I am completely safe.
I wake up.
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