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Dreams angel

Found 579 dreams containing angel - Page 16


Explore a collection of the latest dreams shared by our community. Discover common themes, intriguing narratives, and unique symbolism. From vivid adventures to thought-provoking scenarios, these recent dreams offer a glimpse into the subconscious mind and may even spark insights into your own dream world. Browse the "Latest Dreams" to find inspiration, connect with others, and delve deeper into the fascinating realm of dreams.

In my dream. I saw a lady (An Angel to my own understanding) standing on the cloud. The cloud was closer to me and she deep her hand inside the cloud and dropped a coconut for me. I picked the coconut ran out looking for who to share the event that just occurred with. Why i was standing a man touched my shoulder telling me to call him. That i haven't called him the way i should, while i was questioning who he is. He ascended into the sky, forming a cloud that transformed into a language/writing of some sort (Hebrew/Greek) not sure. While i was pondering on the meaning the writing translated into english. And it says 'Call Me, I AM GOD'. This remained in the sky until i woke up from my sleep.

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I walked into H’s classroom. I was wearing jeans, and a black sweater with a zip at the top. I walked across the front of the room and then to the back right corner. I thought I saw an open seat near Pig, but as I drew nearer I noticed an article of clothing on that seat. It was taken. I then went over to the back left corner of the room, and there I found a seat. It was near Bottle Cap Guy. I talked to him a bit, but about what I can’t recall. I had a black binder on the floor. Pig sat on that binder. I said timidly, "Pig, you're sitting on my binder. That's not good." I asked her to get off it. She obliged. Later, I left the room and headed down the hall to where the stairs are – the ones that lead down to the woodshop hall. They were much larger than they are in real life, and slightly curved. Pig was coming up those stairs toward me, holding a baby. The baby looked...pristine? Pig didn't pay me much attention as she passed. After Pig, I then had to wait for a class of little kids as they made their way up the middle of the stairs. There was another class waiting to go up, but I set off down the stairs before they started up. As I went down, I saw an old man struggling mightily along the rails to get up the stairs, about 10-15 steps from the top. I debated whether I should help him, and decided he would be fine, so I continued on. There was a teacher at the bottom next to the kids, looking at me strangely. Judging me, perhaps. At the bottom of the stairs, I found myself in a sort of "Dream" Vegas. I had a sunken feeling. I was so far from getting there, and it really sunk in then. I felt depressed as I meandered around this basement casino. I thought of what it would be like to do an interview about poker. "We" was a word I imagined using in the interview...Referring to "we poker players", probably. I thought about speaking strongly rather than timidly – of being a strong character rather than a weak and pathetic one.

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I had a dream I was pregnant for a short while and once I began actually going into labor I noticed it was incredibly easy. There was nothing painful, difficult, or intense about it. There were no complications or struggles and the labor went by so fast that it was unreal. The baby was here and it was a little boy. I was happy and I loved the little boy. Only after I had him did I find out that I actually had a total of three biological sons. A family I didn’t recognize came to see me and told me I had two older sons. I looked at the two boys; they were not yet adults, but older adolescents. I looked at them and had no recollection of carrying them or even going through labor twice in my past but I knew these boys were my sons. I never knew how or why I lost them it was never explained to me. The woman in this family seemed to be their care-taker or maybe she wasn’t even really a woman, maybe she was really a guardian Angel; nevertheless she had my two sons and though they may have never seen me, as I was sure I had never seen them, they were comfortable letting me be their mother again. In the process of this revelation I was able to give my two sons new names as if reclaiming my ownership over them and in this order called them Daniel and Paul naming the older one first. I didn’t understand exactly what was going on but without words ever being spoken or exchanged I understood that my two sons couldn’t be given back to me right now, however, I was given unspoken confirmation that they would eventually return to me soon. I then took the little boy I had just given birth to, gave him a name, then raised and nurtured him. He grew up under my care; I loved him, kept up with him, and protected him. In the dream no matter where I went he was always there and never too far away from me. I had not yet had my two older sons returned to me but I always knew it would happen soon, so I was comforted. In the mean time I had my third son and I was pleased.

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I was traveling through the Middle East, a rare sight of a woman alone with her children. Everywhere we went, small children with large, dark, haunted eyes would watch my son and daughter as they laughed easily, teased each other and tried to talk to one another in Arabic from a small red phrasebook. One day we sat on a hot, dusty, crowded train. As the vista flashed by outside the window, a young boy, close to the same age as my son, sat across from us with his father. He watched quietly, seriously, as my children giggled, poked at one another and pointed out goats, mountains and beautiful rolling dunes awash in browns, soft pinks and ochers. My daughter turned to the boy and spoke a short phrase to him - "Hello; how are you?" - and suddenly he smiled, huge brown eyes lighting up and his face transformed into that of a beautiful and carefree young man. He began to answer when his father, eyes flashing, gave him a sharp reprimand in the universal language that every parent understands, the tone conveying words I understood in a language I could not. The boy cast his eyes downward. I looked at the man and attempted his language. "I'm sorry and it is not my business yet...why is it not alright for our children to speak with one another?" He looked at me and, with a small sigh, said "Our children are not the same." I said, "We are not wealthy people; you have no reason to dislike us." He barked a short laugh and said, "You, wealthy? You have riches. We -" he pointed at his breast, "we have wealth. We have the wealth that comes from true knowledge of our Creator, of our thousands of years of history, of our struggles. Of our losses. Of our families, of our heritage, of our culture. Your children have riches. Riches of the promise of a future. My son has wealth. But the promise of a future...?" He raised his arms heavenward in a fatalistic gesture and slowly turned his head to look out the window of the train. His proud face looked resigned yet strangely at peace. I woke up with tears running down my face.

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