Friday, August 5, 2011

last night's dream

so last night I had an interesting dream:

I dreamt that I was in a hospital, admitted for something. Stacy Rikalo was my nurse. She was so sweet and kind. Very attentive and caring. There was this jerk doctor who was apparently known for his lack of bedside manner and being inconsiderate and not listening to the patient. I was in the bed and felt like I was passing out, everything was going numb/paralyzed. I started fading. Not being able to breath. Couldn't vocalize what was going on, or able to speak. Stacy saw me struggling to stay alive. She lowered the bed, tended to me, called a code. Everything went white. Well I don't know about white as much as non existent. Nothing. everyone's voices faded out. I came back. I was scared because I hadn't known what was going on with me. Why this was taking place. It didn't make sense. I wasn't in there for something so emergent, and now am so thankful I was there that someone could help me.

The nurse had her backed turned filling out paperwork of what just happened and it started happening again. The jerk doctor had just finished charting/dictating on another patient and was walking by, saw me in my distress. I was convulsing and something was coming up. It was a little blue plastic disk? like a hole punch circle. He saw this. ripped open my chest, peeled something up, showed the nurse what he had discovered, something someone would have never guessed, but He figured it out. He repaired me, cleaned me out, and put me back together, being very attentive, thorough, concise, and surprising. During all of this there was nothing. I saw them. I saw them feeling panicky, worried. Stressed for my life. I saw white. but nothing happened. I didn't have a fear of seeing hell as it was just blank. I yelled, "Jesus, I want you. God I am here." as a child playing hide and go seek. Not scared, just merely declaring. Then a fear washed over me, that if I reached out to my savior to take me home, my children wouldn't have their mama. I pulled my hands to my chest and said "God save me." The jerk doctor, held my hand, patted my chest. Looked at me loving and gently. He cared for me. All I could do was give him a look of gratitude, with tears down my face. Praise God for using THIS man to bring me back to my children, what needed me. I thanked God for saving me and allowing me to be here on earth for more time. I was indebted to him, the doctor. He was quiet and concerned. He told the nurse what happened, why they couldn't figure it out, why he did, and what they needed to do. He walked away. I was healed and they were stumped at why this blue sheet of plastic was in my lungs and cavity. There was no explanation. It didn't make sense. That doctor had seen this sort of thing before, but never talked of it. God used him for that purpose.

I woke up. surreal. fully aware of what happened in my dream and felt so real. I needed to write it down so I could hear God. I contemplated it during my run. Praise God for speaking to me, even if I didn't get it yet.

Weird right?!
After writing this, some things came to mind that a handful of people had told me, all different things, and I think they were compiled to this, with my imagination. And God used it to speak to my heart.

2 comments:

  1. The fear of dying is so FRESH and different when we think of leaving our babies behind. Seriously. Posted the other night that I wanted to go on a midnight walk, but that it was too scary. Not that I was scared... but the thought of something happening to me and my kiddies possibly being without me... it's the ultimate trust of our hearts, as mothers. We put the kids in the car to go see Grandma... we let them spend the night at a friend's, we send them off to school or let them play behind a slide at the park, outside of our line of vision. We TRUST that God is there, knowing all that will happen, the He will protect them and sustain us... and yet we fear leaving them behind. Who could love our babies more than us? Who could ever love as much as a mother? It is a true test of faith, of enduring trust, of longsuffering as they grow and become more and more their own person, not needing us as much. Sigh. I relate so much to this dream, to that struggle... much more than I ever thought I could. God is so amazing to show us His love and commitment to us through parenting. It is truly an honor to know Him more through our own blessings.

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  2. oh, totally agree Sara! And I think what I left with was such a peace, that He cares about what We care about. He knows what is important to us, and IT matters to Him!!! I was ready for Him, I pleaded, and He grated. All just to see Him more clearly, to KNOW that He speaks to us, and our "little" things, as a mom and a wife, He takes them all into account. He cares for us.
    I also think God is showing me that my children can be my gods. They are where my heart naturally cleaves to. But I am learning at cleaving to Him for my children ;)

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