2 Dreams from the Past

It seems much of my impetus for non-fiction writing recently is my conversations with ChrissyTheHyphenated. In the combox for post Why a Rapture, I wrote of my dream about my someday-to-be-dog-friend, Anubis. As I wrote, I recalled another dream, definitely Revelations flavored, and featured a grassy hill. So, I’m gonna write about it, and then as a bonus, relate a funny dream that only Grunt and Lephael have known about until this point.

Dream 1: This was dreamed about 12-13 years ago. At the time, I hadn’t studied much at all in the way of prophecy (Christian or otherwise), but I dang well knew about angels, as angelology was a hobby of the time.

I’m standing on a field, the grass a bright, rich green. Bright like the sun is shining on it. The sky is dark and clear– not quite night-time dark, but I can see the stars in my peripheral vision. I’m looking at the horizon, at my eleven o’clock. From beyond the horizon, I see two fireworks shoot up and explode, one white, one red. The burning flecks radiate out, but instead of dissipating and falling, they elongate and grow brighter, becoming missile-like things headed right for where I (and others) are.

Somehow I know that they aren’t missiles, even before the unfurl/unfold. I know almost immediately that they are angels– the red are Seraphim (because Seraphim burn, yanno, so red), the white are Cherubim (because the cherubim–not putti!– are very intellectual sorts. Logic and Reason. Clear. White).

So, these angels come and land on the field, and line all us humans up into queues– one Seraph facing the head of each line, multiple Cherubim managing each line. I’m so distracted by all the angels all around (because Angels! Pretty! Shiny!!!) that I don’t pay attention to what’s happening at the front of the lines as we shuffle through. Before I realize it, I’m at the head of the line, with something coming right at my head.

On instinct, I lift my left hand to my forehead to block, and get a handful of sealing wax, imprinted with a design I can’t exactly remember. Part of the wax seal is on my forehead, but most of it is in the palm of my left hand. The Seraph with the self-waxing stamp gives me a level look as I mutter “Oh, crap! I’ll never be able to use this hand again!”

The Cherub to my right gently pats my shoulder with a somewhat rueful look. “It’s okay,” he says. “We all know who you are and where you go.” The implication is that I have something of a reputation among the angels, and that reputation is something along the lines of “Easily distracted, somewhat flaky klutz.” As I can think of far worse reputations, I don’t mind.

The Seraph huffs at the Cherub, and the latter points me to a hillside not that far away, and says “Your friends are over there.” I go, somewhat gingerly cradling my left hand, and sit down next to some very good friends of mine, who pass me a bread-basket full of popcorn. “We got good seats,” one says. “We’ll be able to see everything!”

End of Dream 1

Dream 2: I’m adding this because it’s funny and deals again with angels– or a rather specific one in this case. First, before we get to the dream, if you’re not familiar with Michigan J Frog, you need to be familiar with this:

The running joke with the frog is that he only ever sings in front of that one guy– if anyone else comes along, he reverts back to normal frog behavior. And then starts singing again when they go away.

This dream happened in late May of 2004– I was in the hospital, the first time I’d stayed overnight in a hospital, in the process of being diagnosed with cancer. I was not yet relocated to the “cancer ward”, still in the general unit with a roommate that was, I think, dying. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on– they’d run enough tests to seriously alarm the docs, but the biopsy wasn’t to happen until the next day. But they wanted to keep me, because they were afraid that I’d slip into respiratory arrest at any moment.

So, being the amateur angelologist that I was, I knew that when you were sick or in need of healing, the number one angel to ask for was Raphael. He’s known a the Divine Physician, the Top Angel when it comes to Healing. He also has a reputation as being the “chummiest”, “most approachable”, and “goofiest” of the angels.

So that night, I finished out my nighttime prayers with the following: “And, God, if it isn’t too much trouble, and if he’s got a spare moment or two after his real work, and if it’s okay by You, tell Raphael he’s always welcome to come by. Even the smallest bit of help would be deeply appreciated. Thanks.”

That said, I snuggled down and went to sleep.

I dreamed I woke again in that same room, and in came Raphael, bright and shining, dressed in a tux with tails, and spats, and a top hat and cane and white gloves, singing that same song and dancing that same dance as the frog! Followed by all his Malachim helpers!

It was so ridiculously silly that I started giggling uncontrollably, and woke myself up I was giggling so hard! From that moment on I knew I’d be okay. It was something I couldn’t explain to the doctors or nurses, or even my distraught mother and father– though I did tell mom years later. I knew I’d be okay, because Raphael came by and made me laugh (it is the best medicine, after all).

And he seriously is the goofiest angel, ever. [Even keeping in mind that he whupped Asmodeus’ butt barehanded and locked him in the desert until the end of time. Mmhmm! He’s not one of The Magnificent Seven for nothing, you know!]

This entry was posted in Dance, Esoteric Studies, Music, religion and tagged , , , by zmalfoy. Bookmark the permalink.

About zmalfoy

Z. Malfoy is a practicing Catholic-with-an-"interesting"-past. She earned her Bachelor's Degree in Music Education (Spec. Voice) from Loyola University New Orleans, and has since taken a few business courses to expand her knowledge base. In her free time, she studies belly-dance, alchemy, theology, and various skills related to self-sufficiency. She also enjoys reading science fiction, refreshing her French, and watching anime. She recently started with learning Krav Maga and Russian.

15 thoughts on “2 Dreams from the Past

  1. Love. It. ………. running off to text the URL to Mama Buzz. She loves angels, frogs, dreams … you would get along SO wonderfully with her and her hubby. I can’t wait to introduce y’all. πŸ™‚


  2. Where can I read more about Raphael? I don’t know the story you referenced. Funny thing though … I had two cats once upon a time (before allergies) named Gabriel and Raphael. Gabriel was incredibly smart and had this majestic, yet approachable air that won over even our cat-hating super.

    Raphael we often called RoffyDoffy cuz he was a goofball. Also not a he. His mum was a purebred Russian Blue who got knocked up by some neighbor’s mutt tom. Snob owner was so ticked off that she dumped the kits on the pound before they were even weaned. I was at the pound looking for a puppy, of which they had none.

    But the guy showed us this litter of kittens and one of them looked just like a purebred Russian Blue, a favorite breed of mine. (I like gray.) I said, “If that one’s a male, I’ll take him.” Neutering females was way more expensive and I was a college student on a tight budget. “Oh yes, he’s a boy, all right.”

    Ahem. Nine months later, I realized Raphael had never developed any … you know … equipment. It cost me a bundle to get “him” neutered and the funniest thing is … ever after, the vet who did the surgery AND our neighbor (a NURSE) who had seen the cat’s post-surgical shaved side and stitches BOTH continued to call Raphael “him.”

    Raphael was also neurotic, which I think was from being ripped from his mum too early. He sucked his “thumb” his whole life. And one time when we were sitting a neighbor’s cat, he chased got up on top of the highest bookshelf, about 6″ from the ceiling and laid there, MOANING, doing a very good silent movie fainting couch diva imitation, with one front leg hanging out over the edge of the books … for hours. As soon as we went to bed, he came down and spent the entire night growling at the poor neighbor’s cat who he’d pinned under hair.


    • Book of Tobit– as Catholics, its one of the books the Protestants miss out on, but we get. In this story, Raphael is sent by God to accompany Tobias (son of Tobit) on a journey to recover his father’s fortune from Tobias’ old friend, who had been keeping it safe. Tobit is old and blind, so cannot go himself.

      Raphael goes undercover, as Tobias’ cousin, and they set out together (with a dog) to get the fortune. Along the way, they stop to catch some fish, and “Cousin” teaches Tobias to reserve the liver and bladder (I think) because they have other uses.

      They get to where they’re going, and Tobit’s friend has a rather unfortunate daughter, Sarah, who has been wed 7 times, but each time, a demon killed her husband before the marriage could be consummated. “Cousin” tells Tobias to wed Sarah, and take the fish bladder with him, and burn it when they pray before the “Wedding night activities.” Tobias does so, and the stench of burning fish bladder drives the demon Asmodeus out of the house– whereupon he is met by Raphael, who proceeds to give an impressive beat-down, finally locking the demon in the deep desert until the end of the world.

      They then return, Tobias with Tobit’s fortune and a new (very happy) wife. They get back, and “Cousin” makes a paste of fish liver, and rubs it on Tobit’s eyes, and clears the cataracts from them. He then reveals that he is Raphael, one of the Seven that sit around the throne of God, and tells the humans to thank only God, for it was God’s will that Raphael do as he had done.

      That’s pretty much it (I have have gotten the fish parts wrong). Because of this, Raphael is considered the divine healer (his name means “God Has Healed”), but also the actual Patron of Marriage. He is usually pictured walking alongside Tobias, with a small dog at their heels. Sometimes shown holding fish.

      His reputation for goofiness etc comes from all manner of non-approved sources. (Approved stories tend to be all very solemn and serious, and Raphael tends to break this mold, being very cheerful and humorous). However, it fits if one considers that “Laughter is the best medicine”


      • I remembered he’d cured Tobit’s vision with fish paste, which I was thinking went very well with goofiness. LOL I forgot about the wedding and demon. That’s a fun book … tough luck for the Prots, heh. Ditto Maccabees. There’s some great stuff in there. Drunken elephants come to mind.


            • I hope you two aren’t disappointed. It’s just one line! But it made me laugh so hard. … Still, there’s so MUCH great stuff in Maccabees, esp reading it from today’s political point of view. D and I read it aloud and we kept stopping for an “Oh wow that is SO MUCH LIKE NOW!”


  3. “From beyond the horizon, I see two fireworks shoot up and explode, one white, one red. The burning flecks radiate out, but instead of dissipating and falling, they elongate and grow brighter, becoming missile-like things headed right for where I (and others) are.”

    I was thinking about this and realized it sounds just like Saint Faustina’s vision of the Divine Mercy. πŸ™‚


    • You know, I was just thinking that this morning! I didn’t even know about the Divine Mercy until a few years ago, but I now have a little card in my wallet, and this morning I was thinking “Hey, that dream had red and white, just like that picture. . .”


        • I’ve got a laminated one on the wall in the kitchen. When things get hard and I can’t think or pray or feel even a smidgen of trust or holiness, I mentally grab on to that image and use “Divine Mercy, I trust in you” as a mantra. If nothing else, the picture and words fill my mind and give the slavering ankle biters less to work with.


  4. Hope you don’t mind me pushing my way into the dream conversation, but I remembered that I’d never told you (Zoph) about that National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception dream I promised to tell you. I had one of those dream deja vu moments when you were showing us the mosaics in the shrine. Many decades ago, I had a vivid dream just before waking of being in the crypt of a great church before enormous brightly colored mosaics made from tiny tiles, exactly like the ones in the Shrine in Washington, D.C.

    As I watched, the mosaic came alive and a battle formed between two armies. There were mounted cavalry and men in armor with spears, and the timeframe seemed to be roughly Biblical with the place roughly Mediterranean. I don’t remember the outcome, but I remember that as the figures moved, they maintained their strictly mosaic composition. I could make out every single tile as the battle played out across the wall. As I woke, the scale of the motion and color bewildered me, and I remember thinking that no computer graphics, at the time, could reproduce such a thing, much less design it or compose it in real time. Surely my brain couldn’t do that much number crunching so fast. This was way before the computer graphics explosion in the 1990s and, incidentally, before the scene in The Prince of Egypt, which was similar to this dream, but not exactly so.

    So, it makes me wonder what the connection with the Shrine is. I have no idea.


    • You are always welcome to chime in, Grunt!

      Huhn, sounds like a cool dream! Mosaics are a visual pre-cursor to CGI, in that they are an early sort of “pixilated” art form. . .


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