Do You Believe in Dreams? part 1

I don't mean dreams for the future. I mean dreams while you are sleeping. Do you believe that your dreams can tell you something about yourself you didn't know? Some people believe that God can talk to them through dreams. Others prefer to think of it as their subconscious busy figuring things out.

Long before I knew I had bitterness in my heart I had a dream.
This was during a time when my husband pastored a church and worked full time and I home schooled. I enjoyed homeschooling and at least one gal in the church told me that she wished that she had my kind of life.
But I never knew when my husband came home, what kind of mood he was in. He didn't like his job and when he was angry about something at work, he brought it home to me. And I stuffed it away. Over and over. working to keep everything smooth and running at home and in the church.

The dream went something like this.
I saw what looked like the inside of a bright white room. Soon I realized that I was inside of a well lite, clean tomb or mausoleum. The main feature of the room was an ornate box large enough to encase a good size coffin. The box was ornate with white relief sculpture of leaves or flowers or flowing ribbons or something. Very beautiful. Everything white. Everything clean. Everything in place except for...
On the side of the box, on the end where either the head or feet of the corpse would be, there was a hole. And from the hole black thick, sludge or oil flowed out leaving a dark pool on the floor.

I had no idea what that dream meant. I was clueless that it was about me. I don't remember how long it took me to make the connection between my dream and the Words of Jesus about whitewashed sepulchres. All I knew was that dream made a big enough impression on me that I drew a picture of it in my prayer journal. If I could find that prayer journal, I could give you a date on the dream. I had this dream several years ago. Most likely in the 90s.

Anyway, one day I was in the bathroom putting my makeup on as I was getting ready to go somewhere. I had on one of my newer T-shirts and noticed that there was a grease stain on it. And I lost it. All over the grease stain. Things had piled up on me, not just from my husband's unhappiness, but also problems in the church and other relationships. And I had stuffed everything away for so long that all it took was one little grease stain on one of my better shirts and I couldn't take another thing. I had a meltdown.

Then sometime after these two events I put two and two together. The box was me. I was a white washed sepulcher. No, I wasn't a religious leader looking down my nose at Jesus or the masses. But I harbored bitterness in my heart and hid it so well that I didn't even know it was there. And I had reached my limit. Something had to give. The bad feelings inside me could not be hidden anymore. They were oozing out of my soul like sludge.
It was time to do something.