That was sooner than I thought. I tested the hands last night after all.
Suddenly in my dream, the world turned into summer. Full of perfect detail of leaves. It was so real. There was a deep deep blue sky, and deep blue lake (but still with white snow and ice on it). There was deep green leaves and grasses. And deep yellow everywhere. Autumn leaves on the ground even alongside the green leaves. Golden sunlight coming through the trees. I mean, it was beautiful! Also, I flew a LOT. I flew by using... like the size of a book. I held it in my hands and let it catch the wind. If I wanted to go in any direction I'd change it's angle. If I wanted to go lower, I'd straighten it vertically. If I wanted to slow down, I'd flatten it.
The dream was based around the backyard of my parent's home. I flew over the lake. I flew around our backyard. It was sooooo perfect and rich and beautiful. The plot was minimal. I was avoiding Sarah, trying to eavesdrop on her as she walked with a group of girls to a building that was either a college class building or an apartment building. I landed on the roof. Green and gold painted roof. Scary because high. There was a trap door on it, that I opened. But it just opened into an elevator shaft. I got off there quick, it kind of scared me. She never saw me because I was flying above her. It was the easiest time I've ever had flying.
Anyway, when I first entered the backyard and everything was summer and so detailed, I remembered the last time something was so detailed and I made a note of it. It was when I reached out and touched a tree. When my dad told me the challenge yesterday of the hands, I told him about that time I'd seen my hand touching the perfectly real tree. So that made me think of the hands, and I remembered, and I did it.
It was weird! My hand would be perfectly normal. Then I'd start trying to lift my fingers one by one. I almost always got an extra one between my middle finger and pointer finger. Not one I could see. But I'd finish counting to five by the time I got to the pointer finger, and then the thumb would try to be six. A couple times I got it all right. But it took some concentration. I also had some rodeo scenes stamped into my hand in five small places, on the left hand. Someone by the name of Munarde Buffalo or something was the artist.
I also, along with Lee, tried to keep some stupid park boys from messing up our backyard. In the sandbox they were trying to put concrete foundations. They had cage wire all over, like for their own garden. They were mad at us for throwing it all out, and we just pointed out it was our yard. They also were trying to make us feel bad about the fence tilting and falling over, said it was from the mud on the outside. We informed them that it was actually from the sand built up on the inside due to a sprinkler breaking and flooding earlier, and then the snow pushed it down. (actually, it was wind in real life, then snow later). And.... I mean, flying was almost easy. And the colors were so real. I could feel the dream ending when the colors faded back to winter quality. I mostly just spent the dream flying around admiring the colors and detail and scenery and flying success. Not much plot. I was too aware of dreaming for there to be much story. It was just consciously enjoying the dream and what I could see. When I was waking up, I sang a song praising God for the beauty I had just been given and allowed to see.
It WAS beautiful. I wish I were an artist so I could share it all. Absolutely amazing.
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