If you follow my blog then you pretty much know my life is a Joseph story, and while certain aspects may not have exact resemblances to the biblical tale, the parallels are still very much astounding.
Most of my posts have been quite melodramatic. That tends to happen when you’re in the prison stage. These walls tend to dampen your expectations and positivity. But none of that today. Today, I blog about hope. A hope that I got from a dream. This wasn’t any ordinary dream. This was one of those dreams which you wake up from knowing you just received a message. The reason I started calling myself Joseph was that I noticed 99% of my dreams come to pass, good and bad. This dream though, was not just a message, or a prediction. I believe this was me being shown my future. Me being given something to remember, for times like this when I’m in prison.
I slept one rainy Saturday night… This was what I saw…
I heard the doorbell. Loud and clear. Sounded like one of those old eighteenth century church bells. Grand and majestic in its timbre. I ran downstairs. Down the roll of winding stairs till I got down to the lobby. Walked towards the huge door, and pulled it open. Outside waiting with smiles on their faces were family members, friends, and even people I do not currently recognize.
The door opened to congratulatory shouts and felicitations. Everyone bearing gifts. House warming gifts it would seem. I had seemingly just bought this house. This huge majestic house. Right as I ushered everyone in the general request was for me to take them on a tour of the abode. I didn’t hesitate because it seemed I was in love with the place myself. I began to show them hallways. Large long hallways with rooms on either side. We walked past a set of hallways then we got to something that looked like a ballroom. At that point I turned to my guests and told them that was my living room. (Pause and laugh).
The kitchen was one huge space. With appliances I still do not recognize. Silver. Every single one. We walked into one of the hallways and finally got to the end, a sliding glass door was opened and I walked out into a balcony. This was where the house impressed even me. Apparently this house was built into a rock and covered by a waterfall. The water fell just off the roof and just away from the balcony. If you stretched out your hand you could touch the water. Something noteworthy was that even though the water was moving, it was clear as crystal. Such that you could see through it and see the most beautiful greenery landscape ever just where the stream below ended.
Lol. Let’s get this straight. My gigantic house, was built into a rock, and covered by a crystal clear waterfall. Loooool. I must have drank alcohol before sleeping that night.
We went back inside the house. It smelt of food. All manner of aromas of delicious goodness sifted from the kitchen. The chandeliers in the hallways glistened. The fireplaces were lit and inviting, there was music in the living room (ballroom). It was basically a celebration. Hugs, kisses, smiles, every good thing.
And then I woke up.
I don’t believe this dream is literal. Now while I will buy a huge house I don’t think I need 200+ rooms. Or a living room that huge, or a waterfall outside my balcony, or my house being built into a rock! Haha. But I believe that this dream was a promise. A promise of a future. A promise of “the palace”. A promise that in times like this, times when I’m in prison, I’ll remember and say, this is not the end… I’ve seen the end. I don’t know HOW I get there, but I know THAT I get there. A promise to just keep working. And getting ready. And sharpening my skills. Skills that will get me out of prison. And this promise, keeps me going.
Joseph must have remembered his dream while he was in prison, and smiled. Because it reassured him, that as long as Yahweh existed, there would be bowing sheaves…