posted on Sep, 9 2011 @ 04:21 PM
A decade ago, I had a very vivid dream one night where my father came to visit me. At the time, he had been dead for four and a half years. It
wasn't the first time I had dreamed of him, but this dream was different than usual.
My father died in the hospital following complications from surgery and a 3 day coma. Ordinarily when I dreamed about him, I would see him in a
weakened state. I would be surprised that he was somehow alive, but cognizant of the fact that he was extremely frail and that his health was hanging
by a thread.
This dream was different. My father came to me as my normal, healthy looking Dad. He and I were sitting together in the back of my '89 Taurus,
an old car of his that he had given me a few weeks before his death. In this dream, I was aware that my father was dead, but there were no sunny
reunions, and no time for small talk. In short, my father was distraught.
My father looked on me with a mournful expression and began to say repeatedly, "God won't listen to me." He never explained what he was
talking about. I remember thinking, even inside of the dream, that somehow my Dad was stuck in a kind of limbo and couldn't convince God to let him
As strange as the dream was, the way that I woke up was equally if not more strange. I actually woke myself praying for God to listen to my Dad.
I'll be the first to admit that I haven't spent my life as a very prayerful man. And I can absolutely say that I have never before or since woken
myself from a dream immersed in prayer. It was eerie.
So the dream was strange enough in and of itself, and maybe I would have just shaken it off, except for one other detail. The morning that I
woke myself praying for God to listen to my Dad was September 11th, 2001.
I have no way of knowing if all of this means anything. Maybe this was all some elaborate coincidence. Maybe the events of that day made the
dream seem more significant that it really was. But I can't help thinking that my Dad visited my dreams that night to try to tell me something. And
I can't help thinking that my deceased father was actively praying to God to stop 9/11, and God didn't listen.