The Green Jeep

I found myself moving from an ordinary car to an army-green jeep. Other people and issues were connected to the jeep, but I don't remember them any more. The jeep was really just a framework like something from a movie set. I took hold of the steering wheel and the jeep began to roll down a steep incline. I realized I was in a parking lot on a hill. As I began to roll, I saw, across from me, a group of people sitting in a large car. I knew they were the people that had just been in the jeep. The car started, turned into a small Volkswagen bug with a laced doily roof, and rolled away. I picked up  momentum as I rolled and took a quick turn in the road. I put my foot on the brake. There was no brake in the green shell. There were no controls, so I steered  as carefully as I could and used the turn as well as the grass on the side of the rode to slow me down. I reached the bottom of the hill and a decision. I could continue straight and drive into a giant puddle or maybe it was a small lake. My other option was to roll down a ditch and into the woods, stopping with the help of a tree. That's the choice I made, and I left the jeep to search for Darren. I felt I had to tell him I crashed the jeep.

I couldn't find Darren to tell him about the jeep, but my sleep self convinced me that I should walk away from the jeep, and that I never had to deal with it again because it was just a dream. Who knows what it means, but for some reason, I feel lighter this morning. Good bye green jeep. I'm not even sure I can say, "I'm glad I knew you."

Those who live at earth's farthest bounds are awed by your signs; you make the gateways of the morning and the evening shout for joy. Psalms 65: 8

Peace. Love, Linda