THE ATTIC SLEEPING BEAUTY
by CHARLES ROBEY
(MOODY AL USA)
Iconic keep sake souvenirs are considered very valuable costly antiques. Among such, you often find angelic replicates. Angel like messengers of God, to do His bidding. Nonetheless, as for these angel organum’s, the Scripture is very adamant in that angels always seem to appear within the male gender. No young lady harp playing angelic figures, if you may.
However, you may have entertained an angel without knowing it. They may be present as a guest entering your home, an inquisitive bystander, a deliverer of warning, or a herald proclaiming a message.
“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” (Hebrews 13:2)
We had a very good church friend, the church organist, who swears up and down she was once visited by an angel. One Saturday morning, she was alone in the sanctuary practicing for the Sunday service. She heard a noise and looked around to see a shabbily dressed man sitting on the front pew, intently watching her play. He didn't say a word, just sat there.
She didn’t know how to react, or what to do, as she had locked the front door when she had entered the church. So, she just turned around and continued playing. When she looked around again, he was gone.
Regardless of many misconceptions, as mentioned, we probably will not find angels flying around, flopping wings and playing harps. Although, I guess they could, if divinely directed.
In popular culture, masculine angels are often depicted as playing trumpets. In the book of Revelation, angels sound trumpets to announce judgments on the earth during the Tribulation. Angels also pronounced certain end of times events. (I Corinthians 15:51-52) (I Thessalonians 4:16)
Ancient people often used trumpets to draw people’s attention to important announcements, and since angels are God’s messengers, trumpets have come to be associated with angels, as well.
I don’t recall personally having had an encounter with an angel. However, I’m sure I have kept my guardian angel busy at times, during my eight decades of living. (Matthew 18:10)
Have you ever been divinely tested by an angel? Have you ever passed up that stranger standing on the street corner holding up a sign, 'Will work for food'? We must be careful out there, as we could be challenged, or tested.
Yes, the Scripture is clear that our living Creator, God, does look after His own. Sometimes He does it by way of these angelic messengers. (Psalm 34:7) (Psalm 91:11)
In this fictionalized blog, we see the main character, grandmother’s valuable antique figuring, that of her “Sleeping Beauty” angel coming to life. I trust you will enjoy this bit of fiction. Another of my inspired fantasy dreams entitled “The Attic Sleeping Beauty”
For some unknown reason, I couldn’t sleep that night. Tossing and turning, I heard the old parlor clock chime ring out the midnight hour. That’s when I must have given way to sleep, because I fell into another of my dream world episodes.
I found myself up in the attic. I don’t rightly know how I came to be there, or for what reason or cause, I just found myself there. It was the usual dark, dusty attic setting. Old cardboard boxes were neatly stacked around a worn pathway rug. My broken-down tricycle still sat by the walkway. A few old pictures, some still showing dusty cracked glass silently leaned in the corner, next to a large, antique wooden trunk. There was really nothing unusual to write home about.
My inquisitive curiosity quickly took over however, directing me over to one box sitting in front of the cracked attic window. As if by divine direction the light from the window fell on this one particular beat-up old box, causing me to take notice. The box seemed to be jerking or moving all on its own, catching my attention even more. 'Could it be a rat, or some other small varmint? I wondered.
Cautiously, I opened the box and looked in and there she was. Grandmothers long lost storybook “Sleeping Beauty” angelic looking antique figurine. Not just any figurine, but what appeared to be a well-preserved table-top décor, wrapped neatly in dust-proof cellophane. The little statue was sequestered but moving suspiciously within the moth ridden box. 'It just can’t be,' I thought silently to myself. 'Not Grandma's long-lost valuable antique storybook décor “Sleeping Beauty.”'
My mind quickly began to improvise; if not a rat inside, how exactly could she be moving so freely? Nonetheless, again, as if by divine direction, before I knew it, she was unwrapped and standing on the attic rug. By some unknown miracle she was alive and dancing around, singing grandmothers favorite hymn. Seeing my wonderment expectation, she began to speak, breaking into my confusion.
“Thank you, young man. It’s been quite stuffy in there. I‘ve been waiting for years. What year is it?" she asked with a smile.
Obviously, the entire scenario had caught me off guard. Speculating on my next move, I stood there for what seemed an eternity. Looking rather sheepish, she spoke again.
“I remember well that time, young man, it was a mid-winter family birthday party," she went on. "The cold, snowy wind was howling outside the window and on the covered one-horse open sleigh. The table was decorated with a big red candle, and gifts were all stacked neatly in the corner of the room. And there I was, wrapped ever so carefully at the center of Grandma's presents. I was to be the center of attention that day.” She then paused.
“Wait, wait, please!" I cried. "You must not now leave me in suspense, you must finish, I must know all about it. Please, please, don’t leave me now.”
Well, it had all suddenly disappeared. The dream had ended. The attic had disappeared into oblivion. The storybook “Sleeping Beauty was gone, and I was sitting on the side of my bed. It was morning and the sun was shining brightly through the bedroom window.
“Did you call me, my Love?” I asked my wife.
“Yes, Dear, the cake is almost ready, and I’m about to set the birthday table," she replied. "Can you please go up and retrieve Grandma's precious storybook “Sleeping Beauty” from the attic.”
"Yes, Dear," I responded. "Right away.”
With the onslaught of modern-day American culture, with its suburban garden home outlying communities, the old-fashioned attics seem to be a thing of the past. So, I trust you enjoyed this bit of fictional musing, bringing back memories of forgotten times.
Dreams can be strange bedfellows at times. We all have them. Some we vividly remember; some are long forgotten. And yet of course many are never recalled. After coming through this unusual dream with me, perhaps you can relate to its writing and intent. You may even wish you had been there.
How did the message of this one come across? The more it happens, the more I don’t understand about dreams. Why do so many dreams end unfinished, before the end result of the dream is revealed or known? This happens to me so often. And a search of the Internet doesn’t give much relief.
Leaving one’s dream world unfinished does leave much room for guessing at a final interpretation and speculation, be it good or bad, depending on the variation of one’s mindset. I guess then, the bottom line here would be to fill in the blanks.
Most important, if you do have such evocative dreams that stir your thinking, how do they leave you when you awaken? What is the impact on your future? In the light of all that is going on around us, what’s your take on this fictional dream parable?
The Scripture has much to say about dreams, both pro and con. So, relax and take life easy, with faith and conviction, one dream at a time.
“For God does speak—now one way, now another— though no one perceives it. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on people as they slumber in their beds, he may speak in their ears and terrify them with warnings, to turn them from wrongdoing and keep them from pride, to preserve them from the pit, their lives from perishing by the sword.” (Job 22:14-18)
Bye for now. Until my next dream, may you also have sweet dreams. Please stay tuned for the next edition.