Have you ever had a dream that seemed so terrible and so real that when you woke up all you could feel was utter relief that it had not really happened? I had one of those this morning. I know it was morning because I had already been up with Joel around 3 something and it was after that.
I don't really want to go into the details of the dream, but in a nutshell, Steve had been killed and I someone had taken my children. I didn't see any of this happen, but I knew it had and I was dealing with the emotional side of the situation. I felt the deepest pain and despair. I cried hysterically most of the dream.
When I woke up, to Joel's crying, I looked over and was immensely thankful to see Steve laying there beside me. I had to touch him to make sure he was real.
I hate those kind of dreams. They seem to effect my mood the whole day. I am thankful beyond words that my husband and children are safe and sound, but for some reason I have a hard time shaking some of the emotional stress that came with the dream.
I'm sure there is some psychological answer for all that even though I cannot make much sense out of it.
I wish I had done the spiritual thing and prayed when I woke up, but I let the necessities and demands of the morning set the pulse of my day. Not so pleasant. We are to cast all our cares on Jesus because He really does care about us. I don't wish for another dream like last night, but my hope is that the next time this happens that I will follow my sigh of relief with a prayer of thanksgiving and allow the Maker of dreams control my day.
I know that had nothing to do with my family, China or the price of rice, but it is what is on my mind today.
See ya' tomorrow! 明天见!
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