A couple of dreams about Earthquakes. Jan. 21 and 27, 2017

I’ve been praying for clarification on a few things, mostly about what is happening in the news concerning the new president and his team, as well as some things that are bothering me on a personal level that I can’t seem to wrap my mind around. Some answers (I believe) came in the form of two dreams, one occurring on January 21st, and then a few days later on January 27th (2017).

On January 21st, I had been thinking about all the protests and such going on after Trump was sworn in as President, and it seemed to me that everyone was overreacting and getting a wee bit histrionic over all of it. While I do share some concerns (see my post on the dream of the Charging Bull), people running around and breaking things, burning cars and so on are not going to change anything. This is here, and whether we like it or not, we have to deal with it like adults. But nevertheless, I took a lot of these concerns to the only One who can do anything about them – God – and as a result, the Holy Spirit seems to be giving me a lot of food for thought.  These two dreams feature earthquakes, and I’m still trying to figure out if it’s just a metaphor or something that’s a warning of some kind of one that might actually happen. Maybe it’s both?

January 21, 2017 Dream

Around 3:00 a.m., I found myself in the usual “twilight state” where I was half-asleep yet could still see the room around me with a different scene superimposed on top of it. It seemed as if I was aware of two different realities at once.

I was standing in an open field of green grass with the sun overhead and a brilliant blue sky (much like the scene where I saw the 4 pillars). I heard myself talking in some unknown language yet again, but I don’t remember enough of it to write a phonetic equivalent. The gist of it seemed to be that I was asking,  “What am I supposed to do? Am I doing all the wrong things for the right reasons?”  I also seemed to be venting, my words and tone sounding both angry and frustrated. Someone was patiently listening (for which I am grateful, if I was indeed talking while “in the spirit”).

All of a sudden I was standing in a dimly lit room and I was looking at Donald Trump. (Cue suspense music…). He was standing there with a bunch of shadowy figures hovering around him. He looked terrified. This startled me. I saw then that he was just an ordinary guy caught in a situation where he had no real control, and any control he did have was basically for “show.” Someone walked up behind him and put a piece of cloth over his face. Just as I wondered why they were doing this, someone said something in a language I didn’t understand and they snatched the hood off of him. He still appeared to be Trump but at the same time, it wasn’t him. I didn’t know who it was, but his facial expression had changed from terrified to confident.

The scene changed then, and I found myself walking in a large store with merchandise stacked on high shelves, much like what you’d see at Home Depot or Lowe’s. My son was walking beside me and we were looking for my husband, who was apparently in another part of the store. I didn’t see any other people around. As we walked down this aisle, the floor began shifting back and forth. I instantly looked up and saw the huge shelves swaying. I told my son we needed to get out and quickly before stuff fell on us. My son was holding a device with a small screen (a phone, presumably) and he nodded, saying, “Yes, it’s an earthquake. 8.2 magnitude.” I didn’t question it, but I grabbed his arm and we ran toward the front of the store.

As we reached the end of the aisle, the building began to lurch back and forth, light fixtures bobbing and items began to fall from the shelves. Debris landed all around us. We stopped, realizing there was nowhere to run. Boxes and things fell on us, knocking us both to the ground. I yelled out my son’s name, asking if he was OK, and he sat up, looking dazed. The earthquake had stopped. He held his phone up in the air and said, “Yes, it was definitely an 8.2.”  And then I woke up. I looked over at my phone and almost had to laugh: It was 3:34 a.m. I’ve been waking up at that same time in the morning for a couple of years now.  Not every night, but at least 4-5 nights a week.

Why specifically the number 8.2? Mentioned twice. Does the quake signify some kind of “big shakeup” coming personally or an actual quake?

January 27, 2017 Dream

Again, this happened around 3:00 a.m., which must be my REM sleep stage time or something. I dreamed that I was with my husband and we were “on vacation” somewhere, staying at a fancy hotel that sat adjacent to a big concert hall. We were standing in line and waiting to go into this hall. We each held a white-colored ticket that my husband stated he’d paid forty dollars for. Everyone in our line was holding this same kind of ticket and the line itself was moving quickly.

There was another door beside the one we were filing into – a long line of people holding tickets that were printed on red paper. Their door was closed and when I asked what show they were going to see, someone beside me said that they weren’t going to be let in until the show started. They had tickets but they would have to pay their forty dollars at the door when they went in. That’s what I understood as we went into the building and were let into a nice restaurant and seated at a table with several other people. Someone was handing out presents wrapped in glittery paper and I received a few that for whatever reason I felt I didn’t deserve.

Then my husband kept going on and on about everything he’d sacrificed to get in us here. I kept saying, “that’s not what this is about.” I felt very uncomfortable and decided to leave the room. I ended up out in the “lobby” area outside the concert hall. The line with the red tickets was now gone, everyone having paid at the door and gone inside. I noticed a few strange people wandering around the lobby, apparently unable to get into the concert hall and see the show. One was a bedraggled woman whom I understood to be a current or former prostitute, then a crazy man eating food out of a dog bowl with his bare hands, and few scattered people who seemed to be bored and had nothing to do but hang around. I walked past them and went outside.

I wandered into a type of garden area  There were huge hornet-sized wasps flying around and I ducked and dodged them as I ran to my hotel room. Soon I found myself in a hotel room where my mother was sleeping. (Oddly enough, I’ve had several dreams over the years where Mom and I are staying in a hotel room). I shut the door hard and picked dead and dying wasps off of my clothes. Mom was talking but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. At that moment, the floor began shifting back and forth under my feet.

I looked over at Mom and said, “It’s a quake! Can you feel that?” She didn’t seem to be aware of anything out of the ordinary and just gave me a blank stare. The walls lurched back and forth, buckled and cracks appeared in them. I turned toward the door and suddenly I was outside, in the dark. Night had fallen but the earthquake was still going on. I walked into this wooded area and saw three ancient-looking oak trees with gnarled limbs and thick trunks. They swayed as the earth trembled, yet I wasn’t worried about them falling down because somehow I knew their roots were very old and strong. I stood there, watching them until the quake finally stopped.

I went back to the concert hall and my son was standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed on his phone. He looked up at me and said, “This earthquake wasn’t the big one, it’s just a 5.5.”

I thanked him and went inside the lobby. There was a girl behind the concession stand, scooping popcorn into little containers. I asked her if I could still get back into the restaurant beside the concert hall, where I’d left my husband sitting. She said, “you should have a mark on your hand, like this one.” She showed me her wrist and I saw a small 5-pointed star stamped on it. “That should let you back in.” I looked down at my own hand and to my surprise there was a star stamped on it.

I walked back to the white-ticket door and went in. My husband was there, still sitting with the other people. The dream went on for a little while after that, but it was nonsensical and not worth repeating here.

So, in summary…
Again there was an earthquake, with my son as the sentinel, telling me the magnitude. This time, a specific number of 5.5, and he said “it’s not the ‘big one.'” I don’t know where I was in this dream, but based on the trees I saw (they appeared to be Live Oaks, similar to the heavy-limbed white oaks or “angel oaks” found in the deep south) it seemed to be Southern California.

As a side note, Californians have always kicked around the doomsday scenario of the fabled “Big One,” the quake to end all quakes that would break the state off the continental shelf, causing it to fall into the ocean. Interestingly, I found out yesterday (Jan. 28th) that some lawmakers in California have apparently filed paperwork to secede from the United States. I guess they plan to make Jerry Brown into their Emperor Moonbeam. Perhaps there will be a big shake-up, not a physical quake but a legal one that will cause California to break away from the union, setting it adrift financially.  No one seems to care if they leave the union. They can hit the door and take their unfunded liabilities and massive debt with them.

Until Later,




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