I went to a room in the house where I live. The room has my dining room table with all the clutter of things that have not been put away since we have moved to our new home. I sat down in the room. I was alone in the house. I looked at all the things and viewing the beautiful surface of the dining room table, I despaired there was a veil of dust over everything. I got up partially from my sitting down position to use my finger to wipe off the dust from the beautiful table top. The wooden surface has a beautiful motif design of leaves and flowers artfully decorating it which is a masterfully hand crafted work of art that is evidence of meticulous patience love and skill.
There was a time some thirty years ago, when I saw a man midst dust clouds, working alone in a small room on the side street in Rome, Italy. He was cutting the different color woods to place them into the surface of a table top. I never expected that such a masterpiece would actually be produced from such a small inconspicuous work shop and eventually become a piece of my furniture in South Africa years latter!
I tried to wipe some dust off with my finger. I was grieving the neglect testified by the thin veil of dust on its surface. It would not work. The dust wouldn’t move. I spat on my finger and tried again. This time the dust was wiped clean and the shiny surface showed through again. It is only wood I thought. Only wood. I despaired again that there was dust everywhere and then heard a commotion outside. I got up and went to look.
My dream took me to see that there was a crowd of Gypsies coming towards my house! They were all very shabby and all approaching my home. I was perplexed and felt scared. There were crowds of these strange appearing people, and they were all moving up the dull brown hill towards my home. The next thing was they came into the house and were all moving through my kitchen where I stood. There were so many and I was alone. I did not know if they were good or bad gypsies and immediately checked to see if they were taking anything as they came through the house.
In my small kitchen crowded with Gypsies, I felt better to think I would know what to do if I discovered whether they were taking anything. I felt that then I would know the appropriate action if I caught them stealing, which would be, despite being outnumbered, I would die in the effort to get them out of the house. I would kick up such a storm. I was amazed when I felt shame at that thought when on my way to check if they had taken anything, I had to pass through a small group in the kitchen, who were cooking something over a fire. Their pot was black and this rendered the assurance that no disease or contamination could possibly survive the intensity of the flame of the fire that was cooking whatever it was they were cooking. They were gathered together sharing the joy of cooking not noticing or apparently disturbed by me at all. Then with surprise I realized that they had taken nothing from me. NOTHING! They had brought their own food AND NOT ONLY THAT, they were using their OWN pot AND fire to cook with and they were together enjoying the moment!
They had touched nothing of mine at all and it began to dawn on me that they had no desire or need of anything of mine in the kitchen! I was so relieved that the large group of Gypsies were not stealing anything. I have been so acclimatized to theft and loss in my life that my immediate response was to check if something had been stolen by this crowd of Gypsies in my home. I HAD TO CHECK if they were there to steal something because my life made me conscious of theft and alert to thieves. That is the fire that has been burning me. Loss and theft and loss and theft ~ is what my life has shown me all my life. WE are not alone. We loose so much in life. Time, goods, goals, things, people, faith, trust, hope, dreams, beliefs, purposes, energy, drive, ambition and then there are those who steal from you! It would be an automatic response to discern that if I was being robbed again, and that if I found out that the Gypsies were stealing from me, then there was some comfort in what I knew I would next do. I knew I would drive them out and now finding out that they did not touch anything, left me in a quandary. I did not know what to do next!
They continued to stream through my kitchen where they assembled outside before crouching down, throwing over themselves, heads down to the ground, their mantles of brown. Soon they all appeared to be non other than big rocks on the ground outside my kitchen!
There was still some commotion in the house so I looked back and saw a man approaching. He was a lanky white man with L shaped marks of bluish red, impressed all over His Face. He was surrounded by Gypsies and He was making His way to my house. I looked at Him. He stood out in the crowd. His marks on His Face, had not healed over with an extra layer of thickened skin. They appeared like no other scar I have ever seen. They were like special scars where the blood red and blue thin L shaped marks, still showed under the transparent looking impressions of blows to His Face. He was a fearful sight and many of the Gypsies around Him seemed that their mission was only to follow after Him and be around Him. They were not begging anything from Him, but with Him, together, going where He was going and being where He was appeared to be their entire purpose. He came into the house. I was afraid.
I heard Him communicating with those around Him. They came into a room where I had a large glass door. I still did not know if this Leader was malevolent or benevolent. He commented to His accompanying Gypsy who was listening to Him, something I could not hear. I could see Him motion that there was no silver rod in the door frame that could more securely lock the door. I wondered if He was planning to rob me by showing the Gypsy the weakness in my door. The not knowing made me confront Him. I went up to Him and still He did not give me the time of day. I had to take His attention and brave the fearsome fact that His face was so disfigured. I thrust out my hand to Him and said to Him, Hello, my name is Deborah. What is Your name? I knew if I just knew His Name then I would be settled and would know everything I needed to know. He looked at me, smiled and put out His hand to mine that was extended to shake hands in introduction. I knew I would understand a lot by the contact with His Hand but was totally unprepared to feel what I felt when His Hand felt so cold and so limp in mine. He is thoroughly meek with a meekness that I have never felt pass through be before. I felt I knew Who He is, yet I wanted Him to tell me His Name. He smiled and said…NOT YET….
Next I found myself outside and looking at all the Gypsies who now appeared to be rock like forms on the ground outside my house. Each one had pulled their brown mantles over them and they were like rocks on the ground outside my house. I was afraid and decided to run away. I ran down the road and a bus came past with more Gypsy children in it. They stopped and gave me a ride. I got in and fell against the stronger looking Gypsy child who helped me to gain my composure by lifting me up. Then as I looked up at him he told me….Jesus is with you…I felt comfort and then was told, when you meet….…say to Him…Daddy please don’t hit me in the face.
I was stunned to shock and panicked at this comment. I flung myself out of their company and ran. Next, I found myself in a market place where garments of clothing were being sold. I did not enjoy being there or having a woman come up to me to try and get me to buy from her. Then it came to my mind ~ you will never find them again.
The dream ends with me waking up in the market with people screaming to sell me something and me not wanting to buy a thing or even be there.
I told my husband and son about my dream. My husband said the dream means I am not dead yet. Not yet, I was told in my dream with Jesus at the glass door placing extra security into my home.
My son told me that the Gypsies are the spirit realm of God that is unnoticed by the world that is focused on themselves. That God knows what I need to be secure and He provides it. That the realm of the Spirit is with me all the time.
Though I woke up in the market of the world screaming to sell me something, I know this, at home, I have rocks all around and they are the Gypsies of Christ who follow Him and are with Him appearing in apparel of rags and poverty, stones under mantles of disguise, the army, the sheep, the Kings and the Gypsies of the Lord hidden from the eyes of the world.
I did notice in the duration of the dream, that the Gypsy folks were not of the same color of the white flesh of the man who had L marks on His face.
They were brown not white. Non were white as He was. He was alone midst many brown looking Gypsies. Non of the Gypsies had the L marks on their faces either. I remember looking for others like Him but there were non. He was taller than anyone else also.
The message left to me is Not Yet. Is that the Name? Is that an encouragement…a promise…an assurance….I think so!
Have YOU seen any Gypsies lately?...in your dreams?...in your life….taking nothing from you yet cooking up something in your kitchen….in your home of your spirit? They will leave you peace and the solid assurance of their hidden presence surrounding you once their visit to the home of your being is visited by the Leader of Love carrying the symbol of His Name on His Face making the Home of His Presence more secure through the glass windows of your home and life.
Is His Love enough to be here with you? He is always True. >
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Topic: What's cooking? (Read 4143 times)