I had this AWFUL dream last night. It seemed to go on forever. I was with a group of people (coworkers?) in a remote farm house and we were taken hostage by some big mobster type men. They were not happy about how we had been doing business and were going to kill each of us by shooting us.
Then in another part of the dream, I was out of the farm house and running for my life. I was going through these tall fields trying to find a place to hide. There were all these slave workers from all over the world working the fields that were held there against their will. They were resigned to their fate, but I was fighting against it.
A reporter from Time Magazine ran into me and asked if she could talk to me. "Not now," I said. "I'm in a hurry and can't talk. Why are you here anyway?" She looked at me quizzically and said, "You've sent me hundreds of letters asking me to come here and investigate." I thought to myself, 'That's strange. I most definitely didn't contact anyone at Time Magazine to come out here.'
Then I was running in fast motion and caught a quick view of the most beautiful art and creative expression from the slaves in the field. Rows and rows of beautiful hand-painted art depicting love, peace, joy, freedom, God. I can't recall what each piece had on it, but that's just the impression it left. It was luminescent, glowing, holy and breathtaking. I thought that even in the harshest of conditions, beauty and truth of the human spirit will prevail. The artists behind it had apparently been the ones calling for help from the outside world with their art. It's hard to explain, but briefly in my mind I thought that it was a calling from God for me to investigate and report on crimes against humanity and that my complaints and problems are petty compared to others' real problems.
The dream went on with the murderers still on my trail, but got just scrambled after that. I ran and hid in a garden shed under a bench. I had to crawl in some tulip plants to get in the tight space. I thought I was pretty well hidden, then I heard footsteps coming up to the door and the door opening. I was busted. I thought the guy would just peek in, see nothing and then walk away. But he seemed to know exactly where I was hiding and was going to get me.
I woke up shortly after that and was still quite scared I was going to get shot in the chest.
I hope my dreams tonight are much lighter. These ones freak me out!