Dreams and WhispersI had a dream last night that I remember parts of very vividly. I am not exactly sure where we were or what was happening, but this is the compressed version.
Standing in a line somewhere with my mother, brother and grandmother, there was some discussion as to what we were supposed to do next. Were we supposed to get our drinks, or take the elevator? (Don't you just love dreams?) If we were supposed to get our drinks, were they paid for, and exactly where was the elevator? Bubba, being from out of town, did not know the immediate answer. Grandmother, still one of the smartest women I know, was as lost as a child in the grocery store. Mom, well...no explanation. I told them all several times that the drinks were paid for and that I would show them to the elevator since I was familiar with the facility. This was completely ignored, so I re-stated it. After being ignored a third time, I dropped to my knees and SCREAMED in the middle of some very public place (a Southern woman would NEVER do this) "DOES ANYBODY HEAR HER?" I sobbed. When I looked up, they were gone, and I was alone, still screaming and sobbing.
I would love to tell you that I give no weight to dreams. Usually I don't, but this one was a little too intense to ignore. What does it mean? Why don't we understand dreams? Are dreams/nightmares the work of God or Satan?
To relate all of this to recent situations, while traveling last week with my mother and grandmother, I stepped into my "cruise director" role of traveling. Neither of them have flown for several years, and the airports have changed...a lot since their last "voyage". I became their "parent". This is a role that I have struggled with many times with my mother. I have been an emotional parent for many years.
I tell you all of this because the "Chronicals of Momia" will reach the climax of the story tonight. We are confronting her with her anger, lies, and deception. She has hurt so many people without apology for so long. There are now several people under 4'9" that she can affect/manipulate/hurt. If we don't protect them, I am afraid that they will face the same issues that I have. The excuses that she has given for her behavior do not gel with the timeframe of how long she has acted this way. It is time to open the wardrobe and face the ficticious world that she is living in. She can't hurt us anymore. We won't let her get to us.
Us and we...those are me, my brother, and "the little girl" inside of me. I am suiting up today, climbing in a protective bubble with the little girl. I pray for His words to be my voice. I pray for His patience, His grace, His mercy, His love.
Sarah Groves is running through my mind this morning..."Right now, I don't hear so well....I think you're whispering." I am taking comfort that a whisper is all that I need to hear Him. I KNOW that He hears me.
Please give us your strength, your caring hands, your loving voice.