I had a dream a few nights ago that shook me with one of the blackest events I could imagine. I startled awake, struggling to breathe, heart pounding like helicopter blades. Unlike other something more dreams, I couldn’t pray. I waited for guidance. Nothing. Only my anguish. It felt so real. I could almost hear my heart tearing in two. For fifteen or twenty minutes I had was must have been a full on panic attack. When I’d gulped enough air, I cried, “No! Please, God! No!” And after a while, “Take me instead.”
I felt like Mary must have when Jesus was laid in the tomb and the cross stood empty. Barren. Dead.
How deep the darkness that weighed on her.
Even after my husband woke up and prayed for me, I couldn’t go back to sleep. I struggled through the morning. Several conversations with two of my daughters helped to ease the ache, but the reality of it stayed in front of me for days — and nights.
A weekend filed with good family time helped to move the pain off center stage, but, like a San Francisco fog which seems to clear, then covers and chills everything, I couldn’t completely shake it.
Until Sunday morning when I went to church with YD and her family.
As so often happens, it was song that spoke to my heart. “God Is Able”
The question for my heart was:
Will you listen to the song from the Lord when you are looking in the face of great loss, hopelessness or grief?
Or will you chose to stay between the cross and the grave, and dwell in loss or fear?
Will you believe he really is a good God who desires good for you, or will you continue to prepare for the great “test” always waiting around the corner to pull the rug out from under you?
Had I generalized God’s order to Abraham about Isaac, believing that he means to take anything I love too much? Was it childhood trauma? Was I like Thomas, believing the worst until proven otherwise? I worked through the logical and psychological reasons for the dream, and the fear, but I couldn’t dodge the bottom line.
Will I trust God, even with this?
Especially with this.
The enemy hisses.
And sometimes Jesus seems silent, with nail-pierced hands extended, waiting for me to reach out for him.
To trust him to pull me out of the darkness.
A resurrection life means we don’t have to listen to the enemy of our souls, to the lies that wound, bind or cripple us.
But it is a choice.
We each face the question: Will I dwell in the valley of the shadow of death, or reach for Jesus?
Glimpse of Peace 
“…Or will you chose to stay between the cross and the grave, and dwell in loss or fear?”
I have chosen to dwell, Jane. I think there are moments for moving on and then there are moments to anchor in and Feel whatever it is that needs to be felt. For me, it’s been anger lately. I know it will pass, but until then I’m giving myself the okay to be here…wading, simmering, wanting…until I make it There.
With heart,
Dani
P.S. Your dream seemed quite powerful. I hope you’ve recovered from whatever it was that traumatized you so.
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Dani, the need for you to Feel emotions that you may have hidden or passed over until now speaks to me of the reason for the time between the cross and the empty grave . . . God wants all of us, redeemed, healed, all present. Many of us who have tried to be “good girls” have shied away from “negative” emotions we somehow thought we shouldn’t feel.
Go ahead. Listen to Oceans and lay in the shallow water. Let the gentle waves wash you with your tears, until you are ready to have Him call you where your “trust is without borders. . . and you are ready to go “deeper than your feet could ever wander…”
Love,
Jane
P.S. The dream was the trauma. Strange, I know. I still remember it, but it has lost the kick in the gut power. A similar dream I had a few nights later was as creepy, but not the emotional bomb the first one was. I think the overall message was that life is a precious, unpredictable gift that we cannot clutch to ourselves.
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Fabulous word Jane… From Mama’s lips to your heart to Dani’s ear!
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Oh gosh, the “good girl” comment got me…it pinged and tinged and all over the walls of my heart. And I know you don’t know this…but we are currently in NC at the beach. Both of us are sickly, so the trip has been much different than planned, but I hope to “lay in the shallow water” when I can and call to the gentle waves.
P.S. I’m sorry about the dream, but it seems to have had a much larger purpose and message. Perhaps something that could only be seen and received in the hush of night??
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Dani, so sorry to hear about your ailments. I hope you can just relax and heal.
At to the dreams, yes, absolutely. My brain stays too busy during the day, even when I’m trying to listen to the Lord all the time.
There is always a bigger purpose.
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Thank you, Zoe. I figure distinct dreams that don’t fade with the dawn are recalled for a reason. Sometimes it’s God speaking, and sometimes it’s my subconscious, making me aware of something I need to deal with. Either way, I pay attention, but must always bring it out in the light of the truth. When I really did that with this dream, and one that followed, the truth of the resurrection life won out, and lifted the weight.
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It’s interesting how some dreams stick to us and others zip off to oblivion. Powerful post, Jane.
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