First of all I've got to share a dream I had with you.
FIRST (backstory to the dream): I've been lying on the floor for the past three weeks or so. A really bad relapse of the fibro. I slept about two hours a night if that and for the past three weeks (instead of my usual three) and there was this awful fibro pain like a knife cutting in my chest. In addition, younger son was suffering. Which only stresses me out more cause there is nothing we 20-year insomniac fibro sufferers like than to be taking care of non-verbal autistic son who has been in pain from stuff he can't describe for 18 years and who comes home every day from school with peed-on clothes in his bad and new clothes from the school on his back. (Sorry, God. Had to be snide there. Couldn't control my anger at this illness. I know it's not your fault.)
So of course I got into my "Why do I want to live anymore mode?" And my fears of ending up in the hospital and family having nothing to bury me with. Okay, you guys who have read Wind Follower know how depressing and depressed I can get. All that existentialist mode bit.
So yours truly managed to fall asleep last night and what do I dream of? I dreamt of a woman sitting beside me and saying to me, "Expect Great Things!" And she began telling me about the many great things that have already happened and will happen. She talked about my book and about refrigerators. There was a plate on the kitchen table in front of us with a hot dog and corn on the cob. She picked them up and put them in a napkin and threw them away. So, well, I've been warned what not to eat. So later in the day I get this urge to talk to a neighbor I hadn't visited in weeks. And what does she talk about? Refrigerators! It's a little god-wink. And I love it when that happens. It's like God puts something outside of your control to affirm the dream.
Okay, this is pretty much like the dream I got a few years back where I was told I had six great works to do and that I should hold on.
I trust these dreams because well, it makes me feel God is aware of me. And that is wonderful. Is it not? It gives me so much hope.
The last time I managed a good sleep --around July 2nd-- I dreamt of walking across a field and I saw a road ahead that was beside the field. I was pushing a very heavy cart. It was a very dark night and at the edge of the corner of the field were oxen and lions but I couldn't really see clearly. I wanted to get to the road but it was so dark and I didn't want to accidentally walk on a lion and get eaten. Although the lions were quiet.
I heard the voice of a little girl I know. She's about 5 and her name is Daniella. Her parents go to my church. She saw me coming and she knew it was too dark for me to see. She said, "Caro!" She couldn't pronounce my name right...and in real life she doesn't pronounce it well cause she has baby talk plus she's hispanic. She said, "Here is my hand! Touch it and I'll lead you." I still couldn't see her, but I followed her voice. And in the darkness I took her tiny little hands. And she kept comforting me and saying, "Don't worry, Caro. I'm with you." I looked at the sky. It was so dark, but as we walked up the road which was walking up a hill, the burden I was pushing got less heavy and the sky became brighter.
I woke up crying and cried and cried for two hours after that. But it wasn't as if I was crying. It was as if the tears were flowing out of me.
At last I felt the holy spirit saying, "Carole it's a consolation dream. Don't worry."
I feel the dream is saying that I should become like a little child and put my trust in God and put my hand in God's hand.
Sometimes we need earthly dreams and nightly dreams to keep us going...at least one more day. Now, I just have to commit to keeping wheat, processed foods, corn and soy away from younger son and myself. I believe in my writing, though. I managed to write Wind Follower while I was in a great deal of pain and while I was very sure my days on earth were short. Pain means nothing to me now. I have something to look forward to: GREAT THINGS!
This will be a blog for Christians, for people who are part of a minority, for writers. I'm a poet, essayist, devotionalist, reviewer and writer of speculative fiction.Let God be true...and every man a liar.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
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- Christy Award Winners and Nominees announced
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1 comment:
It wasn't until my Mom's untimely death 4 years ago that I started to feel the power of dreams. In that first year follwing her death I was in a bad place yet I would have these dreams that gave me what I needed to keep going on. That's what your dream sounded like, the spirit moving in the way it could best reach you. =)
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