Guardian Angel

I had a dream last night that I was taking a psychological/spiritual evaluation at a medical center.  At the center, in order to aid you in the process, every person was given a Guardian Angel, who would be with you as you filled out the more grueling portions of the eval.  My Guardian Angel was named David Reede, and he looked a lot like a dentist that was a former member of the BNI group that I was in.  Very kind, very genial, a little scraggly, but hey – who am I to judge?

One of the things that I really liked about my Guardian Angel was how warm and kind he was – it wasn’t an outward display so much as it was a clearly-felt warmth and kindness.  You just knew as opposed to experiencing. At one point during the evaluation, I was getting very stressed, and he just put his hands on my shoulders, rubbed my back a little and said, “Is that better?  Do you feel okay?”  And I did.

When everyone finished their evaluations, their Guardian Angel would disappear – they were there only as support through the evaluation.  I was so upset and heartbroken when David disappeared: I kept holding onto his hand, begging him, “Please don’t go.  Please don’t go!”  He smiled and faded away.

I asked one of the administrators (Scott Stapp from Creed), if he had any information about the Guardian Angel I was assigned.  Scott handed me the file on David Reede – that he had originally been an ex-convict and had actually tried to murder Scott.  Scott, however, being a man of God, convinced him not only to spare his life, but to turn his life into one of service to others.

The file wasn’t clear how David had died, but I assumed that he had – as Guardian Angels are not living people.  I remember how shocked I was to see that my Guardian Angel originally had a criminal record; but it was not enough to squelch my sadness that he had disappeared.

I woke up from this dream at around 4 in the morning, and typed out the disjointed notes while it was still in my memory on my BlackBerry.  Two things of note:

  1. I am not religious in the least.
  2. I never write down any of my dreams – they never seem that important.

I’m not saying what I had was a religious experience, although, I’m sure that other people, if they read this, will assume that’s exactly what I had.  Who knows?  Maybe it was.

All I know was that I had a very bad day yesterday, and having a Guardian Angel comfort me so fully when I was so abjectly miserable felt really good.

As for a “deeper meaning” to the dream, I have no speculation.  I don’t know what it means, short of being a comfort after psychological turmoil.