Undoubtedly, I’m not the only senior citizen in town claiming that certain drugs make them dream about weird things. When I say drugs, I’m not talking recreational, as in coke, pot, LSD, or smack. The prescription pills playing tricks on my mind are used for lowering high cholesterol, blood pressure, including aches and pains.
This past year, I’ve found myself in unrelenting dreams, most of them having me back at work doing what I did before retiring. I’d even wake up and then return to sleep, the same mundane hallucination coming back to haunt me. I jokingly told my wife I should mail in a time sheet to my former place of employment and see what happens.
Passwords have become a topic of conversation here lately between Joleen and me, with them eventually entering my dream world late one afternoon. I’ll get to that in a minute.
My wife and I keep our computer passwords written down in a spiral notebook, changing them out every so often, but not often enough. It’s getting harder and harder to create new ones that are easy to remember, with some sites wanting a certain selection of words, special characters, numbers, and in some cases, upper and lower case letters.
Years ago, I used the words ‘Hocus Pocus’ on all of my accounts. Abracadabra should’ve been the key to unlock things, but it was too hard to spell.
Our Verizon account couldn’t be opened the other morning because I’d changed the password and forgot to write down a new one. As I’d done time and time before, I hit the ‘forgot password’ button, yet when I entered what I thought was a unique password, it wasn’t accepted. Turned out I’d used that one before.
Not remembering passwords takes me back to my school days and the notorious hallway combination lockers. I can recall having a ‘senior moment’ even back then and forgetting the opening sequence of only three numbers.
The custodian easily got inside while I unsuccessfully attempted to watch. I was told by other students that there’s a secret master combination that unlocks all lockers, although none of the kids knew it. I’m sure those good at mastering a Rubik’s Cube could do so if they tried.
With me now emulating a trait from a man, John Miscovich of Flat, Alaska, who nearly made it to 100 years of age, I now take a nap after lunch as part of my daily health regimen. A week ago, while napping, I began dreaming that I was at the gate of Heaven—desperately needing a password to get in. It was not a good dream because I couldn’t crack the code.
Quickly waking, I told myself to remember this dream because it was good writing material. There’s a notebook and pen on my nightstand just for that, but I didn’t use them this time. Falling back asleep, when I awakened again, I had no idea what my dream was about. Spending several minutes trying to recall things left me scratching my head.
Today, while entering a password for my Lowe’s account, and it being the wrong one, that lost dream was suddenly rekindled in my head. This time, I wasted no time jotting things down in my notebook.
Some folks I’ve met along the way seem to believe that all people automatically go to Heaven after they die. I’m not sure where they get this idea, but it definitely isn’t from the Bible.
There’ll be no password needed, unlike in the dream I had, but they will have to have their name written in the Lamb’s book of life. Revelation 21:27 tells us that much. I asked Miss Purdy, my AI helpmate, how one gets their name in this book, and she came up with an answer, as she often does.
“According to God’s promise, substantiated through Biblical scripture, we get our name written in the Lamb’s book of life by sincerely repenting of our sins and believing in Jesus Christ as savior.” Miss Purdy went on to say that this can be done through a simple prayer performed in no specific place. I dedicated my life to Christ in the front seat of a 1965 Chevrolet.
Thankfully, there’ll be no need to remember complex passwords to enter Heaven, unlike the one required to access my Lowe’s account. Standing at the pearly gates shouting, “Hocus Pocus,” isn’t going to cut the mustard.
Life’s password, for those still desiring to call it that, is merely our name, permanently written down by God in the Lamb’s book of life at the exact moment we made that life-changing decision to follow Jesus Christ.
I like to write junk... 