Reliving Old Grief

 

I dreamed of my mother again,
And of my grandmother.

I was back in my old childhood house, living out of a suitcase,
And having to face my mother’s death again.

My uncle was also there with me;
I sensed that he had been sent there to help me recover from my mother’s death, and was praying for me.

I kept wandering around the house looking for something familiar,
Something of comfort, but could find nothing.

I kept a blanket around me (I was only in my undergarments
Underneath,) and thought to get dressed, but even the clothes in my suitcase
Were unfamiliar.

I seen the odd collections of ceramics and plates that were still unfinished, (she liked to make them,) but they were things I had not seen before.

I sensed it was time to give them away.

I kept crying, the grief overwhelming me
Consuming from the inside out.

I tried to go through the closet to the other side of the house
Like I used to when I was young, but it had long been blocked off.

“I miss you so much mother!” I exclaimed to the closet wall.
“And I miss you too, grandma & grandpa!”

“But I miss my mama most of all!”

No matter how hard I tried,
I just kept crying.

I then woke up.

*

When I awoke,
I kept hearing the tune of a song, (a top 40 song,) that keeps repeating itself:
“I keep bleeding…Keep keep bleeding…love…I get cut up inside…”

I looked up the date of when my mother died.

Several years ago this Thursday.

Figures.
Maybe that’s why I dreamed of her again.

“That,” I felt God reply,
“and the tulips that are sitting on top of your kitchen counter,
Constantly reminding you of your grandmother.
They help too.”

I thought of my mother and how she lived in the same house as her parents,
And wondered how she coped with all the memories of her parents
Constantly surrounding her.

My heart remained heavy though,
As I relived the grief from my mother’s death.

“This is an attack from satan, Ma Petite,” my God replied.

“A dream of my mother?” I was a little confused of this.
“What’s wrong with having a dream of my mom?”

“This dream, brought you grief, pain, and loneliness, all over again.
Which kingdom is better served, bringing you that?”

True; it was hard to continue on with life when you’re struck down again with that ‘death grief’. Yes, reliving old grief definitely was an attack from satan….

*

Matthew 6:34 KJV “Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”

Psalm 23:1-6 (KJV) “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

John 14:27 (KJV) “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”

 

Remembering Who’s Child I Am

A dream…

It is dark outside, and I realize this is another dream. So I look around at the sky and the horizon, searching to see if there are any tornadoes. (There usually is.)

The sky is darkening by the moment, rolling over an around me.

I stand on a hill, alone. Behind me, stands a house, large, with many rooms.

I sense my grandmother near me, catch a glimpse of her favorite pink dress, and then she motions to me, that there was, or could be, shelter within the building, if I wanted it. I thought of it, dreading having to go in and search out the safest hiding place, knowing that at any moment, it could all come crashing in on us.

I pause, and take one more look for any tornadoes.

Then I see them, three of them, off to the right hand of me, behind some other buildings, off into the distance. With ribbing like an elephant’s trunk, swaying back and forth, they came towards me, towards the big house, slowly. As if they had all the time in the world, and knew it.

But I knew I did not.

It would take time to find the best hiding place.

Oh but my heart just dreaded it so. “I am TIRED of these dreams,” I say out loud. “I want to wake up!” I did my best to will it, but could not.

Still the tornado trunks came.

“Run inside and hide, quick!” I heard a voice say to me.

And I went back towards the house and almost went in it to do so.

But at the last moment, I stand up and say “No!”

With my whole body screaming at me (ARE YOU CRAZY?!) I stand and say “NO!” more loudly.

I go back out onto the lawn and the hill, and face the three tornadoes. I shake like a leaf, trembling in their winds, as I stand there, and remember who’s child I am.

“No!,” I shout to the tornadoes as loud as I can, “I will not run and hide any longer! If my God Jesus wants me to be in a tornado, then so be it! I will stand and await his will for me!” I gave a slight pause before finishing. “”I trust in Him.”

All at once, the most center forward of the tornadoes changed its meanderings, its pace, and came forward, going around the other buildings. With a sudden flash, it changed to a ream of bolted lightening, its rays flashing and snapping to and from its form.

Miraculously, (I could not believe how I did so,) I stood my ground.

“Run! Hide! Are you crazy?,” said a voice nearby.

But I held to my ground, trembling as I did so, claiming, “No, I trust my God! I have nothing to fear from Him.”

And suddenly, It is before me, in the shape of a cross. (Why had I not noticed this before?)

I stand there before Him in shock, looking upon all His terrifying glory.

Mouth agape, I starred, until I suddenly realized somehow, that I should not be looking directly at such light, or I would be blinded. I was about to avert my eyes, when the lightening dimmed somewhat, and I found it not so fearful to look upon.

It stood there in silence before me, waiting for me to speak.

“You are my world,” I said to Him, now upon my knees. “I trust You. I will not run from You any longer. Do with me as You Will.”

And suddenly the earth shakes and rolls beneath me, tossing me this way and that. Panic, pure panic, wells up from within me, and I try to grab a hold of something to hold on to.

The house is right behind me, and a part of me debates if I could reach its safety before dying.

But again I stop the thoughts and say “NO! I –will – not – run – and – hide!!!”

“Then let go…,” whispers a voice inside me.

I think “now that IS crazy,” but I give it my thoughts. It was something I had not tried before, and after all, what else did I have to loose?

So I let go.

The moment I did, there was a peace from within me, for I noticed the worst did not befall me, as I had feared. Instead, like a ball being bounced back and forth by a group of children, as it rides the waves of nylon material, (like a parachute with a hole in its center,) I found myself inside a cocoon of some kind, invisible, protecting me from the fury of the storm.

I bounced and rode the earth, like a bucking bronco, until I found myself wishing that I still would wake up from the dream. (It was all getting to be a bit too much for me.) So I ask Jesus to end the dream for me.

And then suddenly,

I was awake.

My relief is great, as I whisper out loud “thank You Jesus. Thank You for waking me from the dream…”
*  *  *  *

“For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.”
(Acts 17:28, KJV)

“Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort;

Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.

For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ.

And whether we be afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation, which is effectual in the enduring of the same sufferings which we also suffer: or whether we be comforted, it is for your consolation and salvation.

And our hope of you is stedfast, knowing, that as ye are partakers of the sufferings, so shall ye be also of the consolation.”
(2 Corinthians 1:3-7, KJV)