I think I'm asleep, but the dream is so real I can not tell.
I hold on to that lucid feeling, that awareness of the world around me, watching as my dream carries on.
The sun is going down. I walk in the quiet, feeling the wetness from the rain on my feet. I can hear no rustling in the woods. I can't hear anything.
I am alone.
I am searching. I don't know what I am looking for. I can barely see, so I am not even sure why I am looking. All I know is that I *have* to find it. I continue looking through the trees, peeking through the openings at the last slivers of light, frantically searching for something.
The panic ensues. I can't find it, and soon it will be dark. I start to run. Now I *know* I am dreaming :)
After what feels like hours of running through trees, dodging branches, tripping on vines, I stumble into a creek. It runs straight for as far as I can see in both directions. The last light has faded, but I can see the creek well. The water seems to be illuminated. It smells of honeysuckle. It is sweet, and it draws me.
I step in.
The water is warm. It is clear. I can see to the bottom. The warmth and comfort of the water have momentarily distracted me from the search.
I hear something.
I stop. I look around, up and down, searching for the source of the sound. Suddenly I see it.
I know what I was looking for. It wasn't a what, but a whom. I know whom I was looking for. I stand still, afraid to move, in awe of his greatness. I don't know whether to run to him or bow to my knees. Maybe both?
He starts toward me and I can feel myself shaking. I don't dare take a step towards him. All of a sudden I realize I shouldn't be here. This is holy ground. He is here. I can't be here. I shouldn't be here. I start looking around, looking for a way out. He keeps walking.
I feel like a child caught with my hand caught in the cookie jar. I am in his place. This holy, special place wasn't meant for me. I know I've been caught.
I feel my body relax against my will. He's within 2 feet of me. I can feel his presence take me over. I can feel peace flood through my veins. In my head I know I should run, I shouldn't be here in this sacred place, but my body, my body doesn't agree. Every cell in my body longs to take a step forward. To reach out to him, to jump into his arms. My arms ache to feel his embrace.
My head is flying through memories, remembering all the reasons I do. not. deserve. to be here.
My body is jello.
He takes one last step forward. I can feel the tears hot on my cheeks.
I am shaking now, sure that with one thought he can banish me from this place forever.
He reaches out a hand.
I know nothing but to stand still like a statue, eyes clenched tight, praying for a miracle. Oh the irony.
I feel his hand on my cheek, he gently wipes the tears away. More come. I fall to my knees, my body wracked with sobs. After a moment I look up, expecting to see him staring down at me, watching me in all my much deserved misery. But I don't. There he is, in front of me, on his knees as well. The tears that run down my face are mirrored on his, glowing in the reflection of the illuminated water.
We do not speak.
He reaches out his hand. Timidly I place my hand in his. In that moment, the world stops. I feel no sorrow. I feel no hurt, no fear. I feel nothing but peace, comfort, joy.
We walk through the woods.
I clear my voice.
"Yes, my child?"
I have a million things to say, and yet, none of them seem adequate. I remain silent.
5 minutes pass. I clear my throat again.
"Did you want to say something, child?"
We stop in a clearing, stars twinkling above us. I shuffle my feet. I look up.
"I'm. Umm. Well. I'm sorry."
He smiles at me.
We walk on in the darkness until the night fades away and all we are left with is each other...
I wake in a start, tears still streaming down my face. I want to go back to sleep. I don't want this dream to end. I want to be with him.
And gently he reminds me that all I have to do is come.
Matt 19:14 "But Jesus said, 'let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.' "
I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
Our daughter Ali, she's 9. She's fiercely opinionated and strong willed. She's a Daddy's girl, but the umbilical cord hasn't but cut from me, either. She's a gymnast, and proud of it. She spends more time upside down or turning flips than she does walking. She's crazy smart, and absolutely sure of it. She is my insufferable little know it all.
Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.
I'm here to use my voice. So many people can't. In a world of darkness, I just want to help God's light to shine through. I pray that my words are His, and my love is His, as well. This is my journey through the darkness. To start are the beginning of the story, click here.