In Dreams

I had the strangest dream this morning. I dreamt about two men I’ve never met, but had crushes on a various times in my life.

The most recent crush was getting married, and somehow I found myself at the wedding. My heart was breaking far more than I could believe as I watched the ceremony unfold and realized this man was now out of my grasp forever. It hurt so deeply I couldn’t breath. I felt like I would die from the ache, the longing. I watched closely to see the woman he had chosen. While not extraordinary, she was beautiful. But at the same time, rather normal. That is, she was a little overweight and, while she carried it well, her “rolls” could be seen.

He, however, was radiant. He seemed calmer, more contented than I’d ever seen him. It was obvious she was the woman he needed; the One he’d been looking for and was finally at peace now that he’d found.

I was filled with conflicting emotions. The aching still swelled deep within, but at the same time I felt very happy and pleased for him. He had found what all we singles long to find, and it showed in every corner of his countenance.

As the peaceful couple made their way out of our presence, the second man entered the picture. He’s one I hadn’t had a crush on in quite some time, though I still find him quite handsome and desirable. We were in a group, a “team” in a way, planning and coordinating some sort of event. As we went through the day, our relationship blossomed into quite a friendship, joking and talking and having a wonderful time connecting. The end of the day came and he gave each person a hug, including me! I realized I had made it into his “inner circle”. This man was my friend, and he counted me as one of his. I knew there would be nothing more than friendship, but that was more than enough for me; more than I’d ever thought possible. As we walked toward the doors, arms around each other, I felt so blessed.

This is the point where I woke up, the mixture of feelings still powerfully swirling within. Blessed. Aching. Left behind, and yet at the same time included.

Dreams are important to me. I’ve learned to pay close attention to them because so often I’ve found significant meaning in them. Granted, there are times when I just ate too many mangos, or watched something a little too weird for my mind to process in the cognitive realm, and thus I develop the equivalent of subconscious diarrhea.

But more often than not, my dreams betray the inner workings of my soul, my deeper, more powerful emotions trapped inside a heart afraid to feel. And more than that, they are also a playground, a blank canvas-wall on which God can paint His message loud and clear. That usually happens because I’ve been too busy, or stubborn, to hear Him in the waking world — or I’m just plain in stick-my-fingers-in-my-ears-I-can’t-hear-You! mode. I have examples of the latter, but I’ll save them for other posts.

This morning’s dream continues to intrigue and mystify me. Who, or what, I wonder, have I lost forever? It is my dad and mom? Am I finally reaching that point of “acceptance with joy” this loss that leaves a permanent aching hole in my heart? I am happy and pleased for them that they are now in the arms of their loving Lord. I know they’re at peace, contented having finally found what they were looking forward to for so long. And at the same time, I miss them with a pain and longing I never knew possible. Happy for them. Sad for me. Is this the “man” lost to me forever in my dream?

And who, or what, have I found? Is it Nashville? The team here? Or something else? I confess, I feel like I’m living a dream right now. I know reality will set in at some point. It always does. What seems like a dream eventually turns into at the least, “the daily grind”. Sometimes it turns into a nightmare. Please, God, I’ve had enough nightmares over the last couple years! Please let this one be a dream come true for at least a little longer… and transformed into nothing worse than “the daily grind.”

Of course, all this emotional melodrama my mind is currently running through may be nothing more than the after effects of watching too many episodes of “Stargate SG1” before going to bed….

Forgiveness and Peace

A painful occurence from last year has resurfaced.

A person I considered a friend hurt me deeply and basically kicked me out of her house. I decided to kick her out of my life. However, I never told her. Nor did I ever admit this to myself. No, after a few months of anger and a few more of just tears of pain, I concluded I was “over it”. It was in my past and I wasn’t looking back. I want to live in the future. Or at least in the moment. I’ve spent too many years looking backward. I don’t have many left. Let’s make these count.

But my dreams….my dreams. They betray me. They betray a heart still broken, still hurting. Still angry. Sometimes raging. And a spirit not at peace because there has been no resolution. And it’s on me. It’s all on me. It’s because of me the matter still remains unresolved. The door was slammed in my face. I was never really told why. I left. And never went back.

Not until today, when friends who love me spoke Truth — one in kick-a** style only he can get away with, and the other with the compassion only a friend of many years of enduring love can be capable of — only today was I willing to own up. To say, “I have not obeyed God. I have not done my part to, as much as possible, live at peace with this woman, as God asks me to in Romans 12:19.”

Over the last two years pain has layered upon pain, loss upon loss. Going overseas, leaving family, friends, and home behind. Team conflict, conflict with the leader, loneliness, home-sickness, feelings of incompetency created a landslide of negative thoughts and emotions. Then dad’s heart attack, his death, mom’s death, my team’s continued crumbling…. how much more could I take?

Nothing. Nothing more, was my heart’s determination. The next thing would be the straw that broke me.

That’s when it happened. Betrayal in a counseling session snowballed into stonewalling that ended with “you have to leave…”, a two-day deadline to get out and the declaration, “That’s not my problem.” when I said I had no where to go.

I was wrong. I had many places to go. God provided, as only He can, through loving friends and compassionate church family.

But now there was truly nothing left of me. I was just broken, jagged pieces. Shattered. Scattered.

Thank God. THANK GOD for being who He is. Loving, gracious, compassionate. He rescued me, held me in His grip, hid me in His chest, cradled me in HIs arms, and wiped ever tear from my cheeks.

I buried my anger, I ate my way through my pain, gaining 20 pounds along the way, and denied my responsibility to live at peace with everyone, as far as it is possible, even with this woman.

I admit it. I don’t want to forgive her. I don’t want to release her from the consequences of her actions and love her — which is how I best understand forgiveness. I HURT. Still, even today, the pain is there. And my mind screams, “It’s not fair! Someone should pay for this!”

How ugly my heart is! How can I call myself a follower of Jesus when I will not follow Him into places in others’ lives that He willingly traverses in mine every second of the day? When I will not forgive another for something less than He has forgiven me? When I will not take captive these thoughts that set themselves up against Jesus’ very reason for suffering the humiliation of the cross and replace them with the choice to forgive, release and live at peace?

This must be what Paul meant when he said, “Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. So you see how it is: In my mind I really want to obey God’s law, but because of my sinful nature I am a slave to sin.” (Romans 7:24-25)

Yet he goes on to say (in chapter 8… who thought up these weird breaks in the Bible, anyway…??) that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (vs 1)… and furthermore, that we who have the Spirit of God living in us have power over the sinful nature… “So you should not be like cowering, fearful slaves. You should behave instead like God’s very own children, adopted into his family — calling him ‘Father, dear Father.’ For his Holy Spirit speaks to us deep in our hearts and tells us that we are God’s children. And since we are his children, we will share his treasures — for everything God gives to his Son, Christ, is ours, too.”

Father, help me! Help me obey You. Help me forgive Brenda.