I often dream in full colour and it might have something to do with my artistic temperament. Who knows ?

I am currently data gathering five years of research and loving every single minute of it. As is always the case when I have finished working through a body of research, I inevitably have some sort of epiphony, or just a mind blowing something that unsettles me considerably. I look forward to this in much the same way that a philosopher welcomes questions. (and an honest preacher)

Well, I had this dream.

In my dream I was seated in a living room and a young girl (about 5 or 6) with curly brown hair and a bubbling confidence of enthusiastic speech came up to me smiling and talking (I am not sure that such a practice is possible, except maybe in dreams)... she then announced that her mother had been pregnant but the little one had died. I immediately responded as any parent might seeking to console and reassure.

I started telling her that she need not worry for the little one is with Jesus but while I was doing this my mind on another track was thinking about predestination and whether in fact the unborn one had infact entered into the presense of the Lord. My explanation turned into a rather confusing mumble and I was distracted by something else.

I wondered about whether or not a child to be born had a voice before the cells were joined. I had some vague recollection in my dream of hearing a voice say from a womb, "I want to come into this world"...(this is a consideration) but my first thought is the one that puzzled me.

What does happen to a child who dies before they are born ? (ie. aborted, still born, premature etc.) This is not a loaded question or a purposeful strawman argument, I genuinely had the dream and am genuinely perplexed about the development of it. Your answers will be greatly appreciated.

Happy Mothers day to all who may be so blessed, for the rest it is good to be back here for some serious theological considerations.

Your friend,
Straw

Last edited by straw; Sun May 13, 2007 8:29 AM.