6am. I roll around onto my back, my tied-back hair still damp from last night’s shower. Ugh. It’s cold. My lavender-purple pillowcase is scrunched up beside me. What on earth did I just dream? Usually waking up is less of a chore, and more like an Okay, let’s do this. But when you have those mornings when your dreams were too vivid and they want you to feel embarrassed because of their problems… oh it’s hard. God, why did I dream that?
It’s my personal opinion that God speaks a lot more in dreams than we give Him credit for. We ask “Oh Lord give me a sign!” often. Then when have an odd, out-of-the-ordinary dream we blame it on what TV show we watched last night, or the conversation you had the day before. At least I do. What on earth is happening? We need to start paying attention to things. He has brought me powerful revelations through dream-world.
But then I have those moments where I do not know how to decipher what I was feeling and it was just an emotionally exhausting time in my subconscious. Oh, how weird is it when dreams overflow into real life. You’re in that odd in-between of reality and dream-land and your alarm is playing “I finally found where I belong…” and your brain is still freaking out. Why, God, how do I interpret this?
He holds our hands. Sometimes it is just a matter of purifying our eyes and cutting out that unwholesome movie diet or not reading graphic novels or something. Other times… it’s just a quietness… of “God, I don’t know what’s happening, but I trust you. I am dependent on you. Therefore I will not worry.” And I find myself in my morning quiet time, drawing a picture of a daughter clinging to her daddy. And that is what I am feeling now. Dependent on Him. That’s where I want to be.
