Fohr on Fry

FOUR FOR FRIDAY
Q1 - Travel: When was the last time you boarded an airplane, and where did it take you?
On March 12, 2005 the airplane I boarded took me to Amsterdam.
I chatted with our Cultus neighbour this afternoon. He and his wife are taking their 5 (FIVE) kids to Italy and Switzerland this summer. They're doing a house swap with a family from Switzerland. How cool is that? I think I might just have to investigate this house swap idea more closely...
Q2 - Security: Do you think National Guard troops should be deployed to bolster security along the U.S. / Mexican border?
Uhhh. No.
Q3 - Dreams: Do you remember your dreams? If so, describe the most recent dream you can remember.
I'm currently reading "Black" by Ted Dekker. (Yes, I'm giving him another shot. The HOUSE fiasco might have just been a fluke.)
Anyway, the book is about the dreams the main character is having. And that got me thinking about my dreams. Or lack thereof.
I cannot remember when I last dreamed. I'll bet it's been a few years.
Just before I left for Palm Springs this past Spring Break, I looked over the shoeboxes of journals I have stored on the top shelf in my closet. I wrestle with the question of what do do with them continually but especially before I leave on a trip. I really don't want anyone reading them.
Ever.
But.
A huge part of who I am today, is the result of all the writing I did a few years ago.
Anyway...
In March, just before I left, I looked over one of the journals and read an entry I wrote 2 or 3 years ago regarding a dream that I had had. I had totally forgotten about it. But reading about it brought back the same twizzly good feelings as when I woke up from it.
I don't feel like going upstairs and rummaging through those boxes again, but here's what it was about in a nut shell -
The kids and I are at Creationfest and I've got a 22 foot motorhome. (I know this because there is a bed in the back corner of a 22 footer. The past 2 summers I've rented 20 footers and there is no bed unless the table is dismantled.)
So, the kids and I are on the bed in the back corner of our 22 foot motorhome, praying. I've laying in a C shape with my back up against the wall, the kids are leaning on me and each other and the back window. We are relaxed. Eyes closed. Just praying like we usually do about the stuff we usually pray about. At some point, I realize that my feet are being gently rubbed/caressed. And then a mature male voice, a very pleasing male voice, prays when we're all done. It's not a pastor-y type prayer full of holy words and phrases, just a sincere, normal guy prayer using everyday language. I don't open my eyes to see what he looks like but his voice washes over me with fills me with delight. I felt all tingly. And think I had my first menopausal hot flash.

I wake up before I open my eyes to get a look at the foot rubbing, sweet talking prayer guy.

In my journal I note that I try to go back to sleep right away to take up dreaming where I left off, but I couldn't get him back.

I haven't dreamt since.

Q4 - You Say: Finish this sentence: "When I woke up this morning..."
When I woke up this morning I felt the breeze come in my window from off the lake and heard the sound of rain and the rush of the creek. I was at peace.