The boys are gone at the father and son's campout. Cooper stayed home from school yesterday because of sheer exhaustion caused by sleepless itchy nights and a sprinkle of an allergy flareup. He fell asleep after his shower leaving him wearing only his compression shirt snoozing on my bed. It was after 10 before he awoke. I sent him on the campout because he would be devastated, plus he was feeling better. Matthew remarked that I was going to get the best sleep ever with everyone gone. Here it is 3:30 am and I cannot sleep.
I just woke from a dream. What can I say, I am a dreamer. I have lots of vivid, memorable dreams. Matt is a dreamer as well. These dreams have given answers to prayers, warned me and have been wake up calls. I think this one was a wake up call. It is for the journal.
My dream involved Matt and I coming into a beautiful home that we loved. It got even better when we became recipients of a decorator's dream come true. The staff at Pottery Barn arrived to redo our main living areas. At first I was ecstatic but then felt bogged down by insignificant details. They wanted me to do x.y.z so that it would be showroom perfect. I soon became apathetic about the whole thing and couldn't care less if it was Pottery Barn designers or not. I wasn't even comfortable in my own home any longer. These feelings set the stage for the next phase of my dream.
Matt and I were in a room. We passed on to the next life but were still young. Both of us were complaining about how we were instructed to wear some shoes that were given us. After a bit of struggle and murmuring Matt reminded me, "It's not about the shoes. If they told us to wear them this way then it was for a reason." I was contemplating that while I retied my shoes as originally directed. I concluded that obedience was more important than details.
It was until I humbled myself that I could see a little girl peeking around the corner at the end of a long corridor, waiting for us. I didn't recognize her at first. With shoes fastened correctly I walked toward her. She began running, arms outstretched. I wondered who this person was which I would soon be reuniting. She came into full view and I began running as well. She exclaimed, "Mommy!" It was Olivia. My little girl was waiting for me. I held her and sobbed. Never before had that word sounded so sweet. A piece of me that was torn away regained it's whole self. My girl. My baby. She was beautiful, girly and glorified. Her wisdom was beyond my own. I easily saw that I was the proverbial child. Although she was a child her spirit was mature. Her love permeated my spirit. I was whole.
The sobbing awoke me. As sit here in the dark with only the glow of my computer screen, I wonder how often my stubborn pride has kept me from receiving the fulness of blessings. I may see another way but if I have been directed by Heavenly Father to do something then I must only question how I can make it happen. I have to trust that He sees the big picture with the greatest of all of life's blessings.
I found a part of my family and was restored to full joy in this dream. How often are blessings waiting at the end of a long corridor of struggle and sorrow? How many times have I looked at someone with harsh, human eyes instead of kind, eternal eyes that see them for who they really are? When I become distracted with pettiness do I even realize what I'm missing? In my dream I didn't even remember that one of my babies would be there waiting for us. What blessings are awaiting our humility now? What am I missing out on now? What am I holding back? I don't know yet because I was beginning to think I was getting pretty good at putting it all on the table and letting God work through me. He must have hit a blockage in my heart because I have some learning to do.
I suppose it's time for a spiritual self exam.
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