Monday, February 18, 2013

Dream


Anxiety rises up in my throat. I want to escape. My heart is racing erratically and tears threaten to overtake me.
In the dream last night, he ran up to me. His little eyes twinkling like they did right before he did something he knew he was not supposed to. I knelt down there in the crowded aisle and opened my arms. He wrapped his little body around me.  His little hands, never chubby little hands on that one, wrapped around my neck. I could feel his breath as he told me “I miss you”.
I held him and cried and tried to figure out how I could get him back. My mind in its dream state went through a million problem solving scenarios. There was no way though. There was no way I could get him back. He was gone.
He was gone. He is gone. There is no sacrifice that can be made that will bring him back.  In waking, music begins to play in my mind. “I won’t give up on you” are the words sung over and over. I cannot make myself move from the bed but in my mind I stretch out in dance. I won’t give up on him and God won’t give up on me and there is hope and there is life and that more abundant but for now I am not moving.
The bed is safe and the anxiety that threatens to overwhelm me keeps me from moving from this safe place.
A million unanswered disappointments from yesterday are waiting to be dealt with today.  A million places where the wrong words were said and the wrong action chosen have my stomach tied in knots. If I could hide here in this bed I would. I would hide here for years.
But.  But staying in bed is not an option.  There are four girls downstairs who need my presence. There are four girls who are living and breathing and fighting through the anxieties of life. I am to walk with them even if my stomach is hurting and my mind is screaming. I am to walk with them because I know in a little while the fog of this memory will lift. The fog will lift and I will dance again but this time I will dance in joy, in reality.
There is a hope in the reality of pain. There is hope because there is a season for all things.  After a time of pain, there is a place for healing. After digging up the grass, seeds can be planted that will grow strong and beautiful.  After a time of beauty, there will be a time of pain. The flower must die in order for the seeds to be free. 
Now is the time to begin the day. Now is the time to face the anxiety. Now I will rise up and say “I miss you” and “I love you”. And somewhere, somewhere out in the big wide world, he will know that he is loved and missed and treasured.

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