Night Mares

When I was growing up, I had two recurring nightmares that were unusual. I had several that were more common- going to college finals having missed every class, showing up to class in my pajamas, and going to class but completely forgetting my schedule so I would wander through the school lost and alone. I am sure a psychologist would have a heyday with these dreams, but they are nothing compared to the recurring nightmares, both of which I had for decades (and on rare occasion still have.)

The first one is that an unknown and evil thing is chasing me. I cannot bear to turn and even see what the enemy is but I know I have to run away from it at all costs. For years, I would awaken screaming just before this horrible thing caught me. Determined to fight this unseen enemy, my subconscious finally got the courage to turn and face the enemy one terrifying night. It was a giant bag of M&M's. I kid you not.

The second enemy was not as simple to dispel. In that nightmare, I would wander through a giant deserted palace, knowing that hidden in one of the rooms was a starving horse. I knew that if I did not get to the horse and feed it, it would die. The dream had several variations, like any good show, knowing I would tune in to another dream channel if my interest lagged. One variation was that I could not find the path to the horse. Another variation was I would find the horse, dying and on his last few breaths, but I could not find the food. Another variation was I would find the horse, and the food, but be unable to get him to eat it. My memory is a butterfly, flitting in and out of sight, but I think the reason I finally stopped having the dream is that I did one day manage to feed the horse, a little. I kept hoping I would be able to feed the horse a feast but if I ever did, I don't remember it. I know it was with my faith in Jesus that the Night Mare was able to be fed.... and then slowly vanished from my nighttime adventures.

My sister Holly reminded me yesterday how strange it was that my lifetime recurring nightmare had become my reality in my involvement with HCF. There are other fears that have become reality. Like the stranger that greets me in the mirror each morning, with deep dark circles under her eyes, wrinkles, and drooping neck. When did that ogre replace the spry young face I used to greet? There is the strange desire to cover my children with hugs and kisses, which they recoil from just as I used to when my syrupy Grandmother would do that to me. There is the drumbeat of time growing louder and louder and faster and faster, just when I finally begin to understand how precious it is, something that eluded me when it was quiet and distant and slow.

In Numbers 12:6, the Bible says ,"When a prophet of the Lord is among you, I reveal myself to him in visions, I speak to him in dreams." I certainly don't think I am a prophet but I do believe God speaks to me in dreams, and in symbols, and in the commonplace events of life. I can't make the ogre in the mirror go away, but I can help, at least a little, the starving horse. In one respect, I can help the horses like Waylin by giving money and time to HCF. I think God is directing me to do that, but that is not what my dream was about, I don't think. I think the starving horse was my soul, and it could only find sustenance from one source. I fed the horse when I found the bread of life, and realized that "they will neither hunger nor thirst....he who has compassion on them will guide them and lead them beside springs of water." Isaiah 49:10.
PS- I leave tomorrow at "way too early o'clock" for Phoenix for the wedding. My blog will probably not have new posts in that time, but when I return I hope to be funny again."