Dream a little dream

I’ve had two dreams about dying the past two nights.

It’s absolutely frightening, especially because I am “living in sin” and though I practice most tenets of the faith, I don’t practice them all.
Jesus is either Lord of everything or Lord of nothing.
Right now, it makes me cry, but he is not Lord of my everything.
On Tuesday night, I dreamed that I was in a car accident, that no one was there. Or that someone was there and he wouldn’t call a priest. I couldn’t convey on him the importance of me having a priest. I couldn’t beg him to say any prayers over me.
I died.
I woke up.
Last night, I dreamed there were two semis. They hit. Crashed.
(This was in a paper I read online, so I know where I got the image.)
I was in the flames. Again, there was no one or there was no one that would help me.
I can contemplate what these dreams mean, it’s not difficult to figure out.
I pray before I  go to bed. I ask Jesus for mercy, for strength, for patience with me.
My own conscious is telling me that the Lord, while he is merciful and kind, is jealous. Our God is a jealous god.
We shall have no other gods before him, and when we do (when I do, right now), he is angry.
I don’t know if my dreams are divinely inspired or just my own self telling me I need to change.
It doesn’t matter.
I know what I need to do. I’ve known it for years.
But… I can’t won’t. I won’t change my ways because I am weak. Because I don’t think Jesus’ love is enough for me, though I KNOW that it is.
He died on the cross for me. He rose for me.
I’m at work writing this, thinking about my dreams and how I rarely have vivid dreams because I so frequently wake during the night for water or the bathroom or both.
I start to think that these dreams are premonitions. And do I really believe in that?
I don’t know.
I do know that when I’m at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper tonight, I will be praying. Praying and listening.
And not thinking about how I wish people didn’t dress like that in church. How that old woman reading the bulletin is a bad habit.
I won’t be thinking those things, like I usually do.
I will just be praying that Jesus can wait.
AH. No. I will be praying that I can change, and fast. That I can stop, and learn deep in my heart what I know in my head: Jesus is enough. He’s everything.
I can type it. I can think it. I can read it. I can hear it. A million times.
And still, the same sins hit me like a shovel.
God bless.
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