One of the joys of being a Christian Indie Author is time spent in researching a topic. The meandering path leads through convoluted and sometimes confusing terrain and it is always wise to seek Papa’s guidance before plunging into the murky depths of human understanding. Even with Papa’s direction, the human sieve used to filter the information can easily become blocked and overflowing with the sewerage of man-made thought. Therefore, the Bible should always be the final word on any Christian thinking.
Stumbling around inside human worldview, all claiming to have intellectual enlightenment is somewhere akin to Lewis Carroll’s timeless Jabberwocky, a true experiment in meaningful meaninglessness. To a child, Jabberwocky unlocked the doors of fancy and led into a corridor of endless adventure in search of dragons and sure-footed valour… until the bedroom lights went out and the grip on the vorpal blade loosed and no longer snicker-snacked.
My childhood teacher, an animated orator with veins extended and face aglow, brought Carroll’s famous work to life and passionately cemented the blocks of an already overactive imagination.
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
It was about here that the Bandersnatch, no matter how frumious, became a problem to the disturbed sleep of a small child in a dark room. Risking the Jabberwock hiding behind the ominous shadows of the closet doors, tender feet made a swift escape into the safe and somewhat annoyed light of parental presence, requesting the dubious glass of water. Making sure each drop that trickled over tiny tonsils was measured, and delayed the imminent return into Jabberwocky’s dark lair.
Nightmares and dreams have always fascinated me. Are they warnings of things to come or of battles past? Now before you tie me to a stake and reach for the gasoline, may I remind you that Papa sometimes speaks to us through dreams. Daniel, arguably one of the most esteemed characters of the Bible, was among other things, a God gifted dream interpreter who saved the lives of not only himself, but his deviant, satanic counterparts. The story goes, King Nebuchadnezzar had a frightening dream and wanted his diviners to interpret it – here’s the bit that sorts out the men from the boys – he wouldn’t tell them anything about the dream and expected them to not only interpret it, but also tell him exactly what the dream was. He added an incentive to help clear their minds. If they couldn’t do what he asked, ALL the diviners – this included Daniel – would be cut into pieces and their houses turned into piles of rubble. Some translators go further and suggest these piles of rubble would be then used as a latrine. If you want to know how the story ends, visit any good Bible and read the story of Daniel for yourself. (Tip: Put your finger roughly in the middle of the closed Bible and flip it open, Daniel won’t be far away.)
Nightmares and dreams can have debilitating effects on our well being. Our minds replay strange and long forgotten events, chaining us to behaviours and patterns that can only be described as disturbing.
The Secrets of Black Dean Lighthouse, my new book: Follows in Katie’s footsteps as she plunges headlong into the desperate struggles and consequences of her own frightening nightmares. Written in my signature style of unpredictable mystery and intrigue, you’ll love it. Check it out.
Available in e-book format November 30. Paperback available early 2015.