It’s two am… and it is my dreams which have woken me.  I am all over the place with my thoughts --- we shall start there and see what comes of it.
  
Mom’s "saying" what I am saying. Insecurities, that was my dream. I will give birth to that thought on another page.  Not now. Now is not the time for that.  

I suppose the quiet got to me, I suppose it gets me every time.  We spent the last four days close to the Arizona/Mexico border at Parker Lake.  It is a small lake with nothing around for miles.  If we forgot something there is no running into town. Going to town would require a great distance to travel.  We were only just a few of the families camping this weekend.  The daytime was quiet and peaceful; the nights were even more so and add stars - stars like I haven't seen in years.  Stars so bright and constellations normally hid from view appeared with no lights to dim their glow.  It was so easy to get entranced by their beauty.  

"Then God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night.  He made the stars also."  Gen. 1:16

"He counts the number of stars; He calls them all by name."  Psalm 147:4

In the dark, in the pitch black... with no other light to interfere, the awesomeness of those two verses boggle my mind.  How great is He that made those things?  How great is He that He numbered them and calls them all by name?  

Even typing that memory I get lost in thought...  Back on track - there was no cell service - not one ounce.  There were no emails to check, no social media to keep up on, no news to get lost in... nothing but each moment.  So without all the distraction, my cell phone was left behind, forgotten on the charger in the camper. My best-friend had some, cell service that is, which I was thankful for… it helped us find out that our favorite winery was open through the Thanksgiving holiday and we could stop in and grab our favorite bottle of sangria (which we did on our way home).  She was also the one who remembered to take pictures to commemorate our annual trip… I barely took any pictures so in this blog I will be giving picture cred to her.

We fished and hiked... we laid around on the windy, rainy, and cold day.  We watched the leaves change and fall.  Our kids played laser tag and rode their bikes.  We prepared meals together and laughed more than we had in quite some time.

Returning from a trip like this it would stand to reason that one would be de-stressed, relaxed and ready to take on the world.  Not so, instead I have come home with an internal struggle, an unease... which is blossoming into an understanding with which is counter-culture to all I have ever learned.

Measurables, whose line is it anyway… whose yardstick, whose tape-measure, whose measurable did I buy into.  I think I have realized that my measurable is not mine at all and most days I feel like a floppy plastic pink ruler.   I cannot blame my parents or society…  both just go with the current… 

When I was little my parents and any good teacher told me that I could be anything I wanted to be.  I could aim for the stars and achieve everything I dared to achieve.  Words and statements which were positive, empowering and absolutely true.  We want our "littles" to grow up believing and achieving... and chasing... a measurable... isn't that right?

I have chased my own measurable and have come up empty in most "choose your own adventure" flow-chart I drew.  I have found success in education.  I have climbed up the corporate ladder in titles and raises.  I have found success in jobs and in the accolades of people.  

I have, however, always wanted more...  

Until I didn't and walked away from it all.  Giving it all up to be in my marriage and to be "two somebodies" mommy.    To choosing not to come home every day tired and exhausted from a commute which took too long and giving 100% of myself to a place that will not remember my name.  To saying no to the on-call hours and continual thoughts of work; strategizing and mentally preparing for the next work day.  Exchanging it all to volunteer as a parent helper in art class and being home when "they" are home.  To creating a daily menu board and mostly sticking to it.  To focus my heart and soul on the blessings this life has offered me in the family my husband and I have created.  Finding a job which barely helps to get us by but is more rewarding than anything I've ever had the privilege to do...

When we pulled into town late in the afternoon we stopped at a gas station to service our camper before putting it back in storage. Our oldest, biggest, mutt of a dog bounded out the camper door, past my husband and headed out for the busy intersection... busy from the cars returning home early in preparation for the thanksgiving holiday, busy with people thinking of their store lists for the feast to come, busy with the thought of packing for a late night drive to "be home for the holiday"... Busy... and as I saw our dog bound in the corner of my eye, I bounded out with him... to help my husband catch him... as my door swung open and my foot hit the pavement I was back... back in the busy of this life.  Busy in the noise of cars rushing past and honking for the green light... sirens of the emergency vehicles and first responders. Back in the busy...  Before I could regain my thoughts, my husband handed our dogs leash to me... and my husband said, "I think he's just had himself a bit of a shock that we aren't still up in the mountains, crazy dog."  Him and me both... 

Letting the busy go... Letting ideas of who we could be, should be, go.  Letting go of the measurable created by ideas of having it all... The job, the home, the 2.5 kids, the picket fences... not that it is wrong, if it is for you... 

Yet, still... my measurable is counter-culture.  Which is why, perhaps, I laid with my husband in the quiet of the house fretting about my lost wages, titles, and choices.  Why I feel a guilt for letting it all go...  

Finding my measurable, instead, in something more...  

What if that's what we teach our children.  What if that's what we re-learn for ourselves.  The measurable found in the creator of the heavens and the earth.  Who does He say we are?  Who has He created me to be?  

"Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, But to Your name give the glory, Because of Your mercy, Because of your Truth." Psalm 115:1

My high school best friend is not the same best friend I have now. Not even close. My high school best friend journeyed with me from elementary school through junior high only becoming close those last few years. It is said that we will have many friends in life; some for a reason, some for a season and some for life. She was a friend for a season. We did not part as enemies but we did not part as friends either - instead we just parted.

I remember the day I told her, with all excitement, that I was getting married... I hadn't applied to colleges, college was out of my reach. My parents had lost a business and our childhood home, there was no money for me to continue my education at the moment - that could and would come later. Right now, I was excited to be getting married. I met a great guy who I just knew was the one God had for me. She didn't buy that... Neither marriage nor God's plan. So rather than gaining a bridesmaid - I lost a friend.

My friend's opinion was that I should wait, go to school so that I would never depend on a man; men were not to be depended on - my dad nor the loves that she had along the way. Men failed our moms... Her parents divorced. My parents stayed together though my dad remained mostly absent to us, finding the bottom of a bottle instead.

I remember my friend saying, "All men leave, wouldn't you like to be able to support yourself when that day comes?"

That was the first time I heard the "All men..." sentence, followed by the excuse of expected behavior. I remember my heart hurting for her... All men couldn't possibly be like my dad or the relationships she'd had.

There weren't many conversations between us after that.

Fast-forward 10 years... I did get married and now in my late 20s someone I looked up to had cheated on his wife of almost 30 years. He had justified it and excused it... I was blown away. His response to me, "Laurie, all men cheat and yours will too someday."

The second time I heard the "All men..." sentence... My heart broke. Really?!? My husband... My husband of 10 years, someday he will cheat on me? You know that? Those were the thoughts that ran through my head.

My husband and I were battling with infertility and the last few years had been so tough on our marriage, something I will be writing about soon... there had surely been more than once we didn't think we were going to make it and we were already fighting against all odds. To top all of that off, neither of us were walking with God.

I gave my life to God - when I was 13. We (my brother and me) attended church when my mom could take us or on major holidays. My desire to remain close to God waned through high school and before I knew it God was not much of a thought in my mind and my behavior sure exampled it.

Into our marriage we sought Him together and I looked for God with every negative pregnancy test and doctor appointment... God became the lamp of a genie I would rub. "God, if you would only..." "This month, okay God?" Church wasn't much help for either of us... infertility left me angry and alone.

Fast forward to present day, some friends are struggling with their marriage - having some of the same arguments we'd had just 10-12 years ago... the struggle is lust, the places men put their eye, search online, looking outside their marriage. My husband and I struggled with this too in our marriage and somedays we still do - anything airbrushed and made-up looks much better than what home life looks like sometimes.

This time we are walking closely with God, we know His commands, His expectations and yet we still sin. In the heart of all is sin and we will always struggle with these things but we have the work on the Cross, we have Grace... He have been justified through our belief and faith in Christ.

While sin is still ever present and in almost anything; we may lust, we may gossip, we may tell that one teeny-tiny lie so we don't have to commit to that one gathering... We remember to focus on scripture and are transformed by the renewing of our minds, by choosing Gods way rather than our sinful way...

In talking all these things through with our friends I found her husband saying, "All men..."

And something rewound each "All men..." sentence and something in my Spirit stirred... The words came quick out of my mouth.

Maybe all men (and women) on this earth will struggle, maybe we will all fall short time and again. Maybe we will cheat on our spouse, let our eyes wander, fall into a bottle of booze or needle in our arm... Walk away from our children... Give up on responsibilities... Or any number of things that happen in the world but does that make it ok?

Is that the sentence we want our sons and daughters to continue to hear or do we want more for ourselves, for our marriages, for our children and their marriages, relationships and lives? Especially as believers, don't we want to move past "All men..." and change the conversation? Wouldn't it be better to say, "Without God, all men... and with God, His power, His Spirit we can be changed, we can be made new?"

The way it has been doesn't have to be that way any longer... It starts with me, it begins at home... We can change the storyline, break the generational curses... Stand up for abstinence until marriage, faithfulness in marriage and a new life following Christ.

​I met my husband as I was graduating high school and we have been almost inseparable ever since... I can remember the first birthday we ever celebrated together - it was his and he was turning 21, most people were excited to turn 21 - I know I was... but not my husband... it was a number, another number toward adulthood and farther away from the irresponsibility of being a kid. For some reason Peter Pan just came to mind, unfortunately, I am not that far off... never going to grow up.  We celebrated his birthday in the mountains north of us; spent the weekend camping and fishing... the day he turned that number was awful...  my dear husband, the 21 year old... Man.Baby!   {Side note, my husband has also started to write, his passion is "Legacy" the legacy he is leaving, the foundation we are building in our kids for their future and their children's future.  You will see him address his own insecurities and determined passion in his blogs -- Found on my site which we will now share... under Double Legacy}.

Back to this story... I simply didn't "get" his aversion to turning another year older. 

Me, I love birthday's...  I love everything about them --- family and friends, the food, cakes and music, laughing... and laughing some more... some birthdays have lasted weeks and a few great ones have been celebrated for a month.  Celebrating birthdays, at least to me, signifies breath in my lungs, days I am able to be on this earth and in "mission purpose" for God.   

I love birthday's... except this one... this one that I am just turning... this number 37 -- ugh... I said it... shared my age... 37, 3-7.... on my way to 40... and i hate saying that.  I know birthday's are a gift, I do.  This one is just different, it's hard for me and I have been putting a lot of thought into why and thanks to my now 9 year old son, I get it.

I can honestly say, I have accomplished all my childhood goals... I wanted to be a wife and mother.  I wanted to have two children, one boy and one girl... oh yes, and he must be like his daddy and she must look like me.  I wanted to have a good job, a job which had meaning, which improved peoples lives.  where I could travel-but not too much... just enough to "see places" but not be away too much.  I wanted to be successful, the kind of successful which gave my family stability to afford nice things and take trips that I couldn't take when I was growing up.  

These goals... each one checked off one by one did not come without struggles... like... a infertility battle longer than I cared to endure,  arguments with my husband that had us calling it quits at least three "serious" times... a job that I loved which increased in instability year by year, oh, and a miscarriage of our miracle baby.  

Almost 19 years with my husband and lots of life lived, loved, yelled and argued through.  Lots of heart-ache and heart-break yet here we stand.  19 years -

If you pay attention God speaks, He works on you and in you... Life changes...  

One year and eight months ago I said goodbye to a job of 15 years that I loved - I loved my job… I worked for a large nonprofit, for a mission to make lives better for those diagnosed  with disease. I loved our mission - I loved what we did…
 
Like with any work place environment there are good days and there are bad days.  As culture changes so do organizations like ours.  Some of the changes were not good... Some had been a long time coming. Leadership changed drastically, also not necessarily good.   All along the changing tide I was preparing for year number 15, I never knew why - I just sensed something coming.   Year  number 15 was the year I was called away,  called to put down that job and move on.
 
Some say it's really hard to leave a place you love whether by choice or because the choice was made for you; they say there is a grieving process... And let me tell you, that is the absolute truth.  I mourned and grieved it like something had died. I would look back frequently on my time there and miss my colleagues, missed the mission and missed the job itself.  
 
I Missed event planning, missed hotels, I missed flying… flying high and doing great things for great people. I missed for a moment, many moments - if I am honest - the person I used to be.
 
I hadn't realized that I replaced what God said my significance as a human being was with who "they" said I was.  My identity was not mine but of this person I was while I was there. 
  
I moved on, mourning and that was not a great place to be. 

I found a temporary home someplace else...  This new place was not my place either but a stepping stone.  I know that now, in hindsight... This new place stripped from me pride and made me humble, it stripped my identity so a new one could be found, it made me stand firm in my faith and reject the world...  I had many dark conversations with God... so many rejected days.  I was mad.  I didn't understand.  I thought it one way, but He was showing me another. 1 year and 8 months later... I get it now.  

I finally turned in my laptop, building access card and parking pass...  I said some permanent good-byes while solidifying others deep in my heart.  I walked alone to my car...  a weight was gone... my lesson learned, or so I thought... 

Quite literally I smiled internally and externally as I lifted my IPhone and deleted my work email out of my inbox.  I should have been elated, but I knew - almost instantly that something wasn't right... in deleting my inbox I came to realize I had deleted 16 years of personal and professional contacts... with it died, the last remaining reminder of self I had. I know this sounds silly... but for a moment, consider losing every.single.contact you have ever made... especially in business when "we lean" on past favors and friendships.  GONE...  

The quite whisper came... "You don't need them, I have given you every single tool for the tasks ahead.  You have been equipped with your past experience for this next chapter."

I drowned out that quite voice... never... I did have a panic attack... I did try and reinstate from "the cloud"... I called, I tried... I did... and when I couldn't, I called an IT expert... my brother and he couldn't either.  Ya'all, it's bad when my brother can't fix it. 

Then... with fear and trembling, my brother quietly said, "Maybe you need to move on with out all that."  I literally responded with, "Shut your mouth..."  Folks, that was affirmation...  

For the first time in my life I can say... I have no five year plan.  I have no idea where I am going.  I am almost 40, with a wonderful husband of 19 years and a new career path.  I have put to death the "Idols" of what I thought I wanted my life to look like and for the first time I can say with absolute, unshaken confidence... I want to be on God's path - not before Him, not on the side of Him but right.in.step.behind Him.  His ways are so much better than my ways... 19 years proves all of that...  

My friend and I engaged in a conversation regarding a personal situation she was in and a comparison was made between me and someone else... the specific words were, "She posts religious things, like you."  Now in the grand scheme of it all... this sentence had nothing to do with our conversation but those words ate at me.  

There is no way she could have known, nor did we cover my internal struggle and those specific words have not left my heart.  

Confession #1: I do not feel bold in my outward profession of my faith.  I can maintain confidence in small safe groups but I must profess I do not live dangerously for my faith and I want to.  I don't want to be "religious" or post "religious things"... if that is all I am doing then I am failing and failing miserably at that.  

In my pastors recent sermon series he reminds us that we have a message worth dying for... I realize how radical that sounds to the outside world but the Saints of the Scriptures were martyred for their faith, they carried what they believed with them to the death.  They didn't back away from the truth or preserve themselves, which is what I find myself doing when opposition gets too loud.  

No, my friend... I am not religious.  

 Definition of religious

1. 1:  relating to or manifesting faithful devotion to an acknowledged ultimate reality or deity<a religious person> <religious attitudes>
2. 2:  of, relating to, or devoted to religious beliefs or observances <joined a religious order>
3. 3a :  scrupulously and conscientiously faithfulb :  fervent, zealous

I don't have a devotion to a religious person, I don't relate to observances and I don't consider it just faithful. I have a faith and a relationship far greater than anything I can see.  There is a God who made the heavens and the earth, who was in the beginning and wrote the end.  A God who sent His one and only Son to earth to be born of a woman, from her womb... before my story was even written and while I was still a sinner, I might add... The one and only God had me in mind when He went to the cross, perfect, spotless and blameless and took my shame, my sin... the sins my past would condemn me for and He died on that cross for me. But He didn't end there, nope, He rose again on the third day just as scriptures had said and he sent the Spirit for those who'd believe and receive Him.   What's more... is He's coming again... and even better, He wants everyone who's willing to seek Him, believe their need for forgiveness of sin and live in Him.  

And since I am confessing, sharing my heart with you all... I have to let you in on more.  A couple nights ago I had a dream.  

In my dream my grandmother was sitting on a couch in her living room, the same living room she's had for over 10 years now.  And my grandmother was excited.  She was waiving a book in the air and she said to me, "Do you remember this book?  You got me this book dear, and I have been reading it.  I am so excited to share it with you, come and sit by me."  So I did has she said.  As she opened the book, Jesus Calling by Sarah Young, she said, "Turn to page 213 and 214, you will see that it applies."  With that, my dream was over.  

Back story... Jesus Calling is a daily devotional, something to draw someone into scripture and a deeper relationship with The One who created all.  Everyone I know loves this devotional, refers to this book, re-reads this book over and over... However, I am not a fan.  Honestly, insert eye-roll here!  Oh, I tried to get into it... I started one year on day one but lost interest mid-march.  One year, in the middle of the year, I tried to pick up on that day and continue but that didn't last a week so I retired this "beloved-by-everyone-else-devotional" to the shelf where it has remained... I think I hear the audible gasps of my friends who think I have just blasphemed.  HA!  Anyway... so there I was, in this dream, on the couch with my very excited grandmother reading page 213 & 214, end dream.  

Confession #2:  I am struggling, and have been for quite some time if you have been reading my posts for a while then you have read that, I have a deep desire to be seen, to be acknowledged and validated.  Yes, I know exactly where this comes from and I have psycho-analyzed myself, been forgiven and set free from the shame, guilt and burden of all that but the desire remains.  I know in my heart God sees me, I know He hears me, He bends down to answer my prayers, I know all of that but that doesn't mean I keep it front and center in my mind.  That doesn't mean that I always live it out.  I still want to be seen, acknowledged and validated.  It plays out in my friendships, in my relationships... with my husband and in all the various ways I interact with my people groups.  I fall short, people don't acknowledge or see and I am let down.  Hang on to that thought for a moment... 

Confession #3: "I look like light", I hear from others that people are drawn to me because they see something different... But I have to ask myself each and every single time... "Do they mean that?" "Do they really see light?" "Do they really see Him in me?"  "What if I am faking it, what if I really don't have this faith, what if I am living a lie, what if I am deceiving, what if I don't know God at all".  All those things I say to myself... Scripture says "the road is narrow and many will come to Him and He will turn them away for He never knew them..." what if I am one of them?  - Grim, I know... but hang tight to that thought as well.  

So my daily prayer has included requests to be rid of pleasing the world in favor of pleasing The One.  To be rid of looking for acceptance anywhere other than at His feet... to be rid of the desire to do as the world expects and be on His mission.  Next I pray for His light.  That when you read this you see Him.  When you speak to me about your situation, it's His words you hear and not my own.  Frequently when I am speaking with someone who's sharing a struggle I will pray internally to have wisdom to share, something to point towards Him. But I am always asking to know that I have His light.  

Insert dream sequence here... 

Page 213 says:

Page 214 says:

​I wish I had taken a picture, I wish I had captured the moment several times but I was too busy being in the moment. 
 
The last time we camped in the White Mountains just 5 hours from home... The last time we visited Luna Lake where the bald eagle has been nesting for the past 25 years...  The last time the kids were three and we had to watch them so closely. We had to teach them about the dangers of the roads near camp, the campfire and wondering off.  Where climbing the steps into our RV proved hazardous on more than one occasion. 
 
That was almost 6 years ago.  This time we came prepared with new fishing poles, fishing nets and bikes. We also had to let out some reign; they wanted to explore on their own... The first question when we woke up on our first full day was, "Where is our boundary mom?"  50 yards from our camper was the tree line and a drop off to the path which led to the lake... "Your boundary, kids, is the tree line.  From there you can still see the camper which means I can still see you."  With that affirmation they were off... 
 
"The Boundary" quickly became a place.  They could play along the tree line with each other, a place they could run the dogs out to and a place where often times I would catch my daughter sitting silently alone on the biggest moss-covered rock looking out over the lake below.  We'd hear them call out as they ran past us, "Going to the Boundary, mom/dad". 
 
The Boundary became a little more symbolic, if you can't tell... A little freedom for our twins.  Much less dependent on us or being within arm length.  They had their own little conversations and giggles along that tree line, ones we were not privy to.  There were other things on this trip too, which symbolized the passage of time. 
 
They both became pros at fishing... Putting bait on their own hooks, casting and reeling in.  There were some bumps, some cuts and bruises.  There were more than a couple of almost tumbles in the lake.  There was a minor cut with a new "boy's" pocket knife which we said would happen but we still had to try it anyway.  All this they had to learn on their own and we let them. We let them because no matter how much we'd warn, how much we'd caution, how often our own life experiences could predict the future somehow we didn't know what we were talking about; until they learned the hard way and we were kissing boo-boos and bandaging knees.
 
Each passing year The Boundary gets a little further away.  I wanted to stop time several times this trip and make it all slow down.  Instead, we made each moment count...
 
This world says things won't always be like they are today, each passing day brings another challenge in raising our children to be good, honest and God-fearing.  Each day proves moments won't always be this good, there is a harder day on the horizon and some we may not want to tackle.  Fear will creep in if you let it. 
 
Last night as we sat around the campfire, I prayed for them, for their future - one we cannot see.  We want our children to live limitless, to become all they can be and we know they will be mighty in whatever they do.  A mother's heart still pray's.  

I prayed they would live within the boundaries we set up and model for them and when they don't - I prayed God would take care of the rest. 

Growing up my parents would have frequent "talks" with my brother and I; usually during commercial breaks of Full House or Family Matters. One of them would bring-up "this or that" while brother and I both sat crosslegged on the carpet. Some "talks" were "THE talk" hoping "it" would sink in should a "situation" arise --- this isn't a blog about "those talks".

Some "talks" centered around the "moral right"... As I say that... I am reminded of something my dad would always ask, "What do you want to be when you grow up?". He would let us prattle on about what we wanted to do and then he would say, "Well, I want to be a starship captain!" And we'd laugh... Sometimes we talked politics, someday I may share with you the time - in middle school I declared, during the talk time, that I like Bill Clinton's politics... Unmovable, conservative-republican that my dad was turned shades of red I had never seen before or since...

One of the most influential talks we had frequently and sometimes to this day, was the "You always have a home here", talk.

When we were young they told us we could always come home - we'd always have a roof, always have a place at the table... When we were teens and not doing the right thing, no matter how frustrating we were... The same reassurance was given; and when I got married, they reassured me again - not so that I leave my husband but now so that I knew the reassurance included him too and our future family (whatever that looked like).

Married 18 years this month; there have been times when I have needed a place to go just to cool down. We have needed a place to collectively be fed a meal because the money was lean...

It's a place I can go when my husband is working nights so I don't have to be a single parent... It's a place where "Pizza Thursday" is a thing and a place where my husband can nap on Sunday's after church before his shift starts. My parents home is still "home". It's not huge, 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms...

It contains our childhood dining room table, which for the longest time was a symbol of our broken home... It's where the biggest flights would erupt when the alcohol really kicked in; where memories of tears, tipped over chairs and doors slammed have been replaced and is now a symbol of redemption - what was once cursed now contains memories of not only holidays and special meals but also of hands held, heads bowed in prayer. New memories of family communion and readings of Matthew 26:17-30; broken bread, the Lord's Supper - redeemed indeed!

This house also has its own special glow, from the perfect shade tree out front to the window peering into the dining room past through to the living room but also to the two lone candlestick lights on the windowsill which stand on-guard nightly defying the dark. Somehow "home" is always just perfect, exactly what we need.

Recently, during a date with some of my most treasured friends (which happens to include my mom), she began to console another momma who's situation was tough... And she told her something I never knew.

She recounted the day I left home, packed my last box and moved away - first to leave the nest. She was heartbroken, not only because I was gone but also because she relied on me. I was her friend and sometimes defiant protector... It was the day she placed the first of those candlelight in the window - to remind her that somewhere I still existed and also, to symbolize for me, that there was a light on if ever I needed it. Then she said a second one joined the lone candle when my brother left the nest.

My mom, not looking at me shared these words with her friend. Speaking with her quietly, holding her hand intimately - her back turned to me... She did not know tears were sliding down my cheeks.

I never knew that those lights had a purpose. In everything my parents do, they foster a family culture where we could return home.

I want that for my kids too...

But even more... And the point to all of this...

Is that God does the same exact thing. He wants His people to know that His people always have a home with Him. From his palace with many rooms to the parable of the prodigal son.

He waits for us to need Him, to come to Him during times of desperation and joy. He waits for us to seek Him for the daily struggles and the life changing events. He speaks to us directly.

He reminds us through the light of other believers that this world is not our home.

He sent His Son to example all, shine His light for all and Shepard us Home.

I have had few, and I mean few vivid dreams, the kind of dreams which are so real it's hard to believe reality is truth and left behind with the opening of eye-lids are the dreams.

My husband once woke up to find me sobbing beside him, uncontrollable and in unconsolable convulsions of tears as waves of sorrow overtook his normally calm wife. That particular dream was about the death of my living mother. A dream so horrifyingly real that when I woke up, I had to call her and hear her voice but then also ran smack into the realization that someday that would be how it would feel. Revealing this now takes me back to that heavy grief in my chest, heartbroken, breath-caught-longing-for-exhale moment. That type of dream is not a usual occurrence for me.

Until... A warm summer night this past summer...

Nothing like the loss of my mom; I didn't have the same anguish and pain. But there have been images burned into my brain I cannot unsee.

I dreamt I was in a group of people, maybe a dozen, I had never seen. Two of them had sin, bad sin - sin I knew about. Sin which they lived in, knowingly. The rest of the people I didn't know, didn't recognize for anything - just these two.


We were standing in a dark street, only a few lamps lit the night. A man with a gun held us all up and asked for our money, I went to say, "I don't have any money" but I heard a voice, it was God, the voice said; "Do not speak, you will be passed over." and I new the man didn't see me.

Then the man who came to rob, told them "If I took your money I want you to run as fast as you can." I stood there looking down, I did not move. Only one other person did the same as me - the others ran. All of a sudden the car the man was driving in hit all those people he had taken money from and killed them all.... They weren't just killed, they were torn apart.

The sin that those two people had... Was my own... Sin that I know God has been working with me on. Sin that I walk into, knowingly, without repentance... At least not with a sincere heart. Sin that I don't even bother to take to Him in prayer because He already knows.

I prayed after this dream... To fully understand it, to determine if I hold it in and keep it to myself or share in public. I am still not sure, so I write anyway.

A few things I know for certain, I was a spectator in my dream, only there to witness... I was covered over and held aside. The other is that this wasn't something related to actual future events, rather to deal with my specific sin - so again, I prayed.

I heard Him loud and clear...

That's what sin does you know... Like the money, sin takes something with it. It's a price to pay... It robs you of the person you are really supposed to be. Left in sin, it rips you apart. Sin takes you from your relationship with God... Sin keeps you separated by guilt and unworthy feelings.

A relationship with God, belief in His Son and acknowledgment of all of these things; The repentance, the acceptance and the asking for God in your life are the only things that set one apart, pass one over from the destruction sin does. They are the only things setting me apart, past over and saved.

I will struggle... Everyday... But I do not struggle alone. I have, first and foremost, a God who sees all and knows all which is comforting and frightening. As a believer, I have the Spirit within me, my body contains the Holy Spirit and He already has access to those dark and unspoken places the world doesn't see. I also have the body of believers who speak truth to me, who, by sermon, by prayers, by texts and coffee dates give me knowledge, encourage and hold me up. All of this, within God's plan.

That might be a strange prayer to some and you may wonder what that even means... I will tell you what it doesn't mean... It doesn't mean that I am going to let them figure it out on their own, wait till they are older to choose a church or a faith... It doesn't mean that their daddy and I get to check out... 

When they were born our faith was revived so to speak.  We both were floundering in this world and with infertility we struggled... with each other, with God's plan, with our friends and families.  We went to church here and there, never really faithful to committing to one... but with our miscarriage, the promises God gave us throughout that and then with the birth of these two kiddos we were revived... committed... in deep with God.  We dedicated, literally, ourselves to raising them in a God-fearing, God-believing home.  We found a church we were able to attend every Sunday and not just for show... simply because we were growing and they were too. We dedicated our family and friends to help be after us to live as we had committed and so...

The simple white prayer paper...  I wanted them to come to know God on their own.  Know He is good and what they need.  Not because their friends were doing it, not because their Sunday school teachers wanted to see it... not even because I held this prayer to my heart and hoped for it.  I wanted them to want Jesus for themselves.

And now they do...  Hailey, baptized in May of last year and Brandon, baptized this month and what a day - the completion of an asked and answered prayer.  Tears on earth from the heart of a mommy and rejoicing in Heaven by angels and our Father. 

Come to Him with your prayer requests, write them down, hide them in your heart.  He hears and He answers.