Matt's blog

The story of me, an American in Edinburgh, Scotland finding my place as a musician, a husband, a father and a Christian.


Dreamo Kid

So I had a dream last night. It's pretty telling about my current situation. It was the second dream in as many nights that took place at my home church back in L.A. In this dream the Whitworth graduation was being held in a meeting hall at the church. (For those of you in the know, which is most of you, the presentation was being done in Fireside while the people watching sat in Lee Hall facing what would usually be the wrong way in the room.) The pastor from my home church, Pastor Jim,leading the graduation ceremony. He read a name off of a folded up piece of paper, it looked like an academic evaluation, and someone came forward. He then asked this person if they had anything to confess, which they did without hesitation. "Oh, crap," I thought. I was not expecting anything like this and needed more time to think of something. Pastor Jim then called my name immediately, putting me into a panic. Instead of asking if I had anything to confess, like I was expecting, he asked if I felt satisfied and confident with the education I had received. I said, "No," which elicited chuckles from the audience who thought I was making a joke. Flustered I said, "No, you don't understand! I've lost everything, my mom and my dad and in my time at school my faith, too!" From then the dream is a blur until after the ceremony. I was outside and realized that I did not have the paper with my name on it that Pastor Jim had handed to me. I went back inside and searched everywhere. I was surrounded by people who wouldn't help me, but who kept telling me that I need that paper or else I can't do anything in my life. Panicked, I slipped down the back hallway that leads to the Lee Hall kitchen where the lights where out but the refrigerator door was slightly open. Someone else, an older man started to come into the room, but then the dream ended.

7 Responses to “Dreamo Kid”

  1. # Anonymous miranda

    I, too, had a crazy dream last night. One of those that's realistic enough to affect my mood. I couldn't figure out why I was so groggy and sad this morning (other than having Aramaic at 8am), then I remembered my bad dream and spend a few minutes convincing myself that none of that had actually happened. hey, thanks for loaning me your wife for a few. I'll see you in about a month.  

  2. # Anonymous amy

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