Saturday, February 27, 2016

Dreams

I woke up from my sleep gradually, but the feeling was still very real. Zeke, my second-born son, was estranged from us. In my dream, my heart hurt, and all I desperately wanted to do was be reunited with my boy. I was helpless, but refusing to give up hope. I held in my body a grief beyond words.

A dream like that is shocking, but when it’s the second one like it in less than a week, it becomes soul-troubling.
Who knows what was behind those dreams? Perhaps they were from God, warning me about days to come. Perhaps they were from the devil, working to plant fear into my heart. Perhaps they were the leftovers of whatever mishmash my brain had been sorting through from the day. 
I woke up to my alarm at 5:30, and climbed out of bed, heart still feeling like an open sore that needed to be handled with a gentle touch. I spent my first waking moments talking to God about what my dreams might mean.
And I didn’t hear a resounding, “Your Zeke will always be safe and will always be close to you.”  Not that I really expected that, but it would have been nice to hear.
I think every mom knows that, at some point, her heart will be broken by the kids she loves so dearly and passionately. 
I did sense that the Lord was using the dreams to remind me, once again, that He alone is my constant. He is the one relationship I have that will not disappoint or leave me brokenhearted.. 
And, once again, He reminded me to hold on to His kids loosely. 
I may have plans for Zeke: what I’d like to see in our future relationship, my excitement at watching how he’ll use his God-given strength as he grows. But God has even greater plans for him. He knows ALL of the ups and the downs of Zeke’s future. He sees all of that, and through them, he has designed a beautiful purpose for this little child’s life. …And it probably does not line up with the scrapbook-perfect timeline I have imagined. 
Zeke is God’s first… mine only secondary. He has been gifted to me for the short amount of time I have with him. This is a humbling and frightening and freeing thought for a momma.

Zeke woke up at 5:48 that morning. It was just him and me. Me and him. And I never thought for a second to scold him for coming out of his room so early. And you better believe that I soaked up that early morning snuggle and heart-to-heart conversation with my very special second-born son.

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