The Dream

This morning I had an unusual dream.

For context: I kept baby albums for both of my children — but Sonja’s disappeared somewhere along the way. Mikos’ is safely tucked in a drawer. Sonja, always with a smile, insists I must not have loved her as much as her brother. Not finding that album after all these years of searching truly breaks my heart.

In the dream, I was on a missionary trip, and we stopped in Chicago to do some shopping. There I found the bargain of a lifetime — a pair of $750 boots marked down to $130. I made the purchase quickly and wandered into the baby section of the department store. When I pulled open a display drawer, there it was, in living color: Sonja’s baby album.

The cover was identical to the real one — soft hues of yellow and blue — but this version had a baby on the cover who looked just like Sonja as an infant. The bargain of the century had become something far more precious than a pair of boots.

That boot deal was truly the stuff of dreams.

The Interpretation

Why did this dream come — and why was it so vivid?

Sometimes the things that have quietly slipped from our minds are brought back to the surface through a dream. God has a way of drawing our attention back to what matters, even in the night hours.

Why Chicago? Perhaps because that is the heart of the message: Sonja’s baby album is somewhere unexpected — hiding in plain sight, waiting to be found. The one place left to search is the proverbial attic, tucked away in a box alongside her Cabbage Patch Kids. When autumn arrives, the search begins again.

A side note: no technology existed at the time to reveal whether the child was a boy or a girl — that gift would be discovered only at birth.

God Still Speaks – And He uses Dreams

The Lord speaks to us in many ways — through Sacred Scripture, through dreams and visions, and by bringing others into our lives to help guide us. After much prayer, the Lord opened the door for this blog. He gave me a vivid dream about it, and in that dream, He told me to name it My Catholic Roots Are Showing. He even gave me instructions for the logo. When I woke up, I journaled everything with great excitement — but also with a real concern.

I prayed and questioned God: “How can I name it My Catholic Roots Are Showing when I have so many Protestant friends — and when my son is not serving You in the Catholic Church?” I waited on the Lord for an answer. The following night, I had the same dream again. That repetition was my confirmation: God was instructing me to use the name He had given.

Many people today are receiving dreams — some of them prophetic. A prophetic dream can be a confirmation of something that is about to happen, or it can serve as a warning, calling us to prepare spiritually and perhaps even change the course of what lies ahead.

A good friend’s daughter was away at college and had long struggled with substance abuse. My friend faithfully prayed for her wayward child without ceasing. Then one day, the Lord gave her a dream: she saw her daughter bursting out of a deep pit, her right hand stretched upward as she rose to the surface. That dream became a powerful reassurance — a sign that her prayers had been heard, and that her daughter’s freedom was on its way.

Joel 3:1 New American Bible (Revised Edition) (NABRE)

The Day of the Lord

Warning Dreams

Years ago, Mike and I were looking to purchase a larger home. I found one not far from ours, contacted the realtor, and had Mike come with me to see it. It needed a great deal of work, but I was at peace with that — the yard was twice the size of our current home’s, and that sealed it for me. We made an offer and were ready to sign the paperwork, but the realtor had an emergency and was unable to meet with us.

That night, I had a dream in which I was overwhelmed with grief over having sold my house. I was crying in disbelief. The following day, we scheduled a second appointment to sign — but Mike was delayed at work, and we had to cancel again. That night, I had the exact same dream: the same sorrow, the same tears, the same feeling of deep remorse over losing our home.

When I woke up, I told Mike we could not go through with the purchase. It was a warning dream. We would later discover that the home’s previous owner had died by suicide in the master bedroom.

Prophetic Dreams

I dream regularly, so I keep a journal to record them. On January 16, 2007, I recorded this dream:

Mike was driving me to the airport — we were headed to Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) — but I told him my flight was actually out of Orange County, so we turned back. Along the way, we encountered groups of people dressed in loose clothing, walking freely on the freeway. They moved slowly, in groups of five or six, crossing in front of cars and causing accidents. I urged Mike to be careful not to hit them. Some had already been struck — their bodies were still on the freeway.

On August 29, 2009, I recorded another prophetic dream:

The United States was under attack. I watched as ships were bombed. I stood waiting for the Lord to speak through me in a prophetic word. I said, “I…” — and then waited — and the words came: “I, the Lord thy God, will bring disaster to this country.” These were the words given to me in the dream.

Both of these dreams came to light again as I went back through my dream journals.

Instructional Dreams

The Lord gives us instructions through dreams. When my husband Mike faces a challenge at work or cannot figure out how to fix something around the house, the Lord will often give him a dream showing him exactly how to move forward. In the same way, the Lord has used dreams to show me how to lead a Bible study or how to approach a difficult situation with a friend or family member.

Interpretation

Not all dreams speak the same language. Some are direct and to the point — like when Mike receives clear instruction on how to repair something. Others carry hidden meanings that require prayerful discernment. Colors and numbers, in particular, can carry deep spiritual significance.

I once had a dream in which I was retrieving my luggage from a baggage carousel, only to find that my suitcase had been opened and all of my clothing was spread across it for everyone to see. I was mortified as I rushed to gather everything. But every piece of clothing was in shades of purple. Purple is the color of royalty and kingship — and it is also the color of the robe placed on Jesus along the Via Dolorosa. Though my clothes were scattered and I felt exposed, the dream carried a message of transparency and integrity: there was nothing hidden, nothing to be ashamed of before God.

A word of caution: be careful about seeking interpretations from others. There are many who will mislead you. Bring your dreams to God first, and if you seek outside help, go only to someone who genuinely seeks the Lord for wisdom and discernment.

Numbers, too, carry meaning in dreams. In the warning dream I described earlier, I received the same dream twice. I did not act on the first — but the repetition was a confirmation. Two was not a coincidence; it was God underlining the message.

In the dream about the people walking on the freeway, their loose clothing suggests comfort and ease — a picture of those who move through life unbothered by boundaries or consequence. The groups of five and six point to the number eleven. In biblical numerology, eleven is associated with disorder and incompleteness — much like the chaos of filing for Chapter Eleven bankruptcy.

Acts 1:26 (NABRE) “Then they gave lots to them, and the lot fell upon Matthias, and he was counted with the eleven apostles.”

The Apostles were made complete with twelve — a number that mirrored the twelve tribes of Israel. Eleven was never considered whole.

Modern-Day Prophets

These are urgent times, and the Lord is still speaking through those who are attentive to His voice. Those looking for faithful Catholic voices on the End Times would do well to spend time with Dr. Taylor Marshall, who offers thoughtful content on topics such as the Three Days of Darkness, and with Mark Mallett and Daniel O’Connor of Queen of Peace Media, whose work on End Times prophecy is rooted in Sacred Scripture and approved Catholic private revelation.

God is waiting for us to return to Him. May we be found prepared for this spiritual battle.

God bless you.

We Did It!

It took a little over a year for this project to get underway. Mike and I are novices when it comes to remodeling our home in Santa Barbara. Through so many trials and tears (mine), we finally picked the right contractor, started the work in late August, and on the Fourth of July, the project was complete.

She’s 70 Years Old

This home has been in our hands since 1988 and was built in the early 1950s. We have always used it as a rental. While our son Mikos was attending Westmont College, this was his home. He, along with two roommates and several dogs, occupied the house. Needless to say, it was well lived-in and much neglected.

The Fire

During the time Mikos was living there, the most unthinkable thing happened — the house caught on fire. Soon after, the worst rainstorm Santa Barbara had experienced in 50 years swept through. We filed two insurance claims, and this became our one opportunity to do a cosmetic remodel. Some of the windows were replaced and a new roof was added.

You can read about the fire in this blog: “The Santa Barbara House Fire.”

Eighteen-Year Tenants

For the last 18 years, a family had called our home their own. A family of four, they had long since outgrown the two-bedroom, one-bath cottage. When they graciously gave their notice, we knew it was time to do some remodeling.

To the Bones

What we did not realize was how quickly the project would take on a life of its own. Stripping the cottage down to the studs revealed her age — she desperately needed all-new electrical wiring, which was never in the budget. The Little Yellow House also needed a new roof. It was a Pandora’s box of surprises. The plumbing added yet another layer of unexpected expense. At every turn, we could hear cha-ching! We were not prepared for this adventure.

Kathy and Sean

Our contractors were a godsend. They are the owners of 805 Flooring in Santa Barbara and, together, knew exactly what we envisioned — guiding us every step of the way. More than anything, I wanted yellow kitchen cabinets, but custom-built cabinetry made that option out of reach. So Kathy and I decided instead to paint the French doors a butter yellow. From there, I also wanted a Dutch door — and again, Kathy had the perfect solution: customize the existing front door and paint it to match. Our original front door, easily 20-something years old, got a major facelift. It was sawed in half and transformed into a beautiful yellow Dutch door.

Kathy helped with so many details — lighting, bathroom sinks, mirrors, and tile for both bathrooms. She wears many hats, and one added bonus is her natural eye for design. Logistically, it was nearly impossible for us to weigh in on every decision from a distance, so we trusted Kathy to curate the options. My only directive was to keep it feeling like a cottage by the sea — colors that echoed the sun and the water.

The Second Bathroom

This was my top priority — something I fought for every step of the way. I cannot tell you how many prayers went up for this to be accomplished. Mike wanted it too, but struggled with fitting it into the budget. In the end, we reached a happy compromise and were able to add it to phase two of the project.

The Furniture

It pays to be a hoarder. Back in the 1980s, we purchased a beautiful brass bed. When we eventually upgraded to a new bed, I asked Mike to store the brass one in the garage — where it sat for over 25 years. We cleaned it up, and it found new life as the centerpiece of one of the guest bedrooms.

An antique dresser from my home in Orange now sits alongside the brass bed, and together they make for a cozy, welcoming space.

We did purchase all new mattresses as well. Nightstands were ordered from Amazon — which Mike had to assemble — along with the coffee table and bar stools. This past weekend, however, I ordered what I believed to be a tall, slender cabinet. The photo on Amazon showed it styled with rolled bath towels and large bottles of hair shampoo. I was very wrong. It is so tiny it could fit in a dollhouse. Next time, check the measurements first!

The Drives

The road to Santa Barbara always started the same way: with a prayer. There is no counting how many trips we made to Santa Barbara during this time. All that can be said is that it was a genuine sacrifice. Getting up at 4:30 a.m. to beat the L.A. traffic was no small thing — though, if truth be told, it was easier for me than for poor Mike, who drove the entire way up and back. Shamefully, I did my share of complaining: I’m so tired. I’m hungry. I need to use the restroom. Mike, on the other hand, was as gracious as could be — but he had one rule.

The Restroom Rule

Mike’s rule was simple: one stop only, and it could not be in Los Angeles. Why? Because no one in that city will let you use their facilities. If nature called before we cleared the city, it had to wait until Calabasas. And he was absolutely right. The restrooms in Los Angeles are a battle in themselves — attendants are unhelpful and will turn you away with lame excuses like out of order. Needless to say, that lesson was learned the hard way.

The Celebration

When we arrived on Friday, we got straight to work preparing the house. Every pillow received a protective covering, and the last bedroom was made up — you guessed it — with a butter yellow bedspread from Amazon. A few repurposed pillows later, it was done. The sofa was finally delivered, and it was time to celebrate.

Of course, Mike made dinner reservations. To be clear, it is not that thoughtfulness is beyond reach — it simply is not a natural gift.

Chuck’s of Hawaii turned out to be one of the best meals we have had in Santa Barbara. A cocktail of choice is usually a screwdriver, but this was a Hawaiian restaurant — so a Mai Tai seemed only right. There must be something in the water in this town, because between Joe’s Café and Chuck’s of Hawaii, the drinks have a way of catching you off guard. One was all it took. From there, the evening was pure joy, the food rich with the bold flavors of Hawaii. Let’s just say that when it comes to alcohol, one drink is more than enough!

My Prayer

Dear Lord, thank You for being part of every step of this project. Without You in our daily lives, there is no telling where we would be. Through all the tears and disagreements, we made it — and we are forever grateful. Grant us wisdom in how to care for our Little Yellow House. Amen.