For several weeks I’ve kept a notebook by my bedside, which I use as a dream journal.
The objective is to jump to it as soon as I wake up to recall as much of the night’s dream as I can.
Sometimes there’s nothing.
Other times I wake several times throughout the night filling pages upon pages of testimony.
The more I try to record my dreams the more frequently and vividly they come.
Last night I dreamt that I worked in some capacity from President Trump.
A cable news channel was holding a “town hall” on the “audacity” of POTUS not conceding. I stood offstage.
Question after question from the “audience” yanked on manipulated heart strings, creating the impression that we lived under a despot.
I couldn’t take another second of it and yelled, OHHH SHUTTTTTUP!
Women around stage were horrified.
The only black man in the audience cracked up.
The director said, CUT!
Then I was escorted from the building.
Back at the office (White House?) Trump asked me to tell him what happened.
It was late in the evening and as I recounted each inane question he took off his tie and began to methodically brush his teeth over a sink, chuckling at everything I told him.
I felt relieved by how calm he was.
And when he finished brushing he turned around to me and smiled—with a beaming bright grin.
He said, remember, Jesus is the light of the world. And whoever follows Him won’t walk in darkness. There are more of us than them.
Then I smiled the light of life right back at him.