My Father is the King

I thought I would share a dream. I dream a lot, but it is rare that I recall the dream, so when I do I like to look for significance. It’s probably a little silly, so you’ll have to humour me.

I dreamt that I was having trouble with money – I had lost or mislaid my bank card and when I went to the bank, I couldn’t find any ID to prove my identity or my entitlement at the bank.

I was invited into a room at the back, where there was a large table around which were seated various stuffy old men and skinny women in smart suits. I felt quite scruffy and dishevelled. I had to go through my bag to look for any papers that might prove who I was.

Then suddenly, the door to the room burst open, and somebody rushed in to say “The Owner of the bank has regained his memory!”

“Oh dear!” I said.

When asked why, I responded, “The owner of the bank is my grandfather, and last time we spoke, I was in trouble for something or other, I don’t remember exactly what it was.”

“The owner of the bank is your grandfather?” The woman to the left of me asked, astonished. “Well, why didn’t you say? Why, if you had told us, of course your privileges at the bank would be restored!”

I looked at her for a moment, wondering, and said “I suppose I had forgotten it myself.”

Who knows where these weird dreams come from? My grandfather used to tell tall tales of having come from nobility, land and money, and having had to renounce it all in order to marry a commoner. (I don’t know what my grandma would have said. Funnily enough I don’t ever remember him telling these tales when she was in the room!)

Then, on my father’s side, when my cousin traced our family tree a few years ago, he claims we go back – via Ireland and via France earlier on – to the Royal line through the wicked King John, brother of Richard the Lionheart.

I suppose the thought that we once had a better life is always in the back of my mind. So, at the moment, are money troubles of various kinds. I really did go into the bank last week only to find I had no identification.

It all swirls around in the dream and comes out as a different story.

Then this morning, I opened a book of prayers (actually “Breakthrough Prayers for Women” by K & C Richards) and the words at the beginning of the devotion today were:

“You are a daughter of the King. He has a plan and purpose for you.”

I have been feeling really rather folorn and sorry for myself the last few weeks, drifting around without any sense of plan or purpose, frustrated that my hopes and dreams seem to be thwarted at every turn.

I don’t have the energy to fight it at the moment, so I am just shrugging my shoulders and allowing myself to be blown along on the wind.

I don’t know whether there is a grand Plan and Purpose for my life. But it’s nice to think that there might be.

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