Wednesday, February 17, 2010

'Siah's Dream and What We Have to Hold

We were completely asleep. It was the kind of sleep that keeps you there... doesn't allow a quick awakening or an ability to think. The house was quiet and were gone.

Until the scream.

Mark and I both sat upright in bed. Neither of us knew what was happening but we both spotted it at the same time. A child running by. A scream filling the room. In his sleepy stupor, Mark shot out a hand and captured Josiah's arm. He fought and fussed and Mark pulled him up into the bed.

The noises he was making weren't language exactly. They were portions of words that shot from his mouth like daggers flying at what we fear.

"Dangero...." he cried.

"Need some..." he screamed.

"Terrif!" he yelled.

I wrapped my arms around my boy and laid him down between us. He was cold and clammy and agitated and, I figured, still sleeping. I asked him if he had a dream and he clearly answered yes. My little one was awake. This was no night terror to be forgotten in morning light. No, this was a dream... a real dream that had frightened Josiah beyond words and reason.

Mark and I took turns for a while trying to talk him down. But whatever he had seen was real to him and it would not go away. His eyes were wide and his breathing quick and even in our tired way, we could see this was going to go on a while.

Mark took 'Siah to the bathroom, more to look at him than anything else. His color was good and he said he wasn't sick so back in our bed he came. He snuggled in tight and when asked what he dreamed, he replied, "I cannot speak of it.".

Holding my son, I drifted in and out of sleep for a while but woke up again a couple of hours later to find him still awake. Still scared.

"Momma, please. I need the light."

Knowing that morning would bring four children with needs and a load of chores as well, the light could not go on. I need sleep to get through our busy days so I held him closer and told him no.

"Momma, please. PLEASE. I need the light."

I looked around and saw a phone with a little blinking "You have voicemail" light on the end. I reached over, grabbed the phone and handed it to him.

"Light, bubby. You have light. Will this help?"

He smiled, clutched the phone and closed his eyes. As he dozed back off to sleep, his little, chubby hand raised up and felt around in search of something I could not see. When it landed on my hand, he curled his fingers around mine and sighed a contented sigh. We both slept well then, he and I, hand in hand in a bed over-flowing with family. But, as I fell asleep, I found myself lost in thought.

What do I do when I am afraid?

Where do I run when I am in need?

When I am lost in darkness and deep in distress, where do I find the light?

When I feel alone, whose hand do I embrace for comfort?

We spend a lot of time and words explaining who God is. We compare him to a Father and extol his power and all of that is Truth. But there is more... He is the one who pulls us close. He is the one who catches us when we are running from our fear. He is the one who wraps his loving arms around our tiny selves and waits for our hand to reach out for His. And He takes it. And never, ever lets go.

Last night, I held my boy for a long, long while... and I was grateful, deeply so, that there is Someone who will hold him forever. When I am gone and 'Siah is here, the arms that hold us both will still be hanging on. It was a good reminder to me... and true comfort to offer my son. Because dreams will come and troubles will increase but The Light will always endure.

Blessings on your day.

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