What my dreams tell me...or Don't tell me (Dreams Part deux)

I sometimes have this recurring nightmare/dream where I'm somewhere and I need Michael, but I can't find him. I can't call him, text him...nothing. Its like he vanished off the face of the earth. Usually in the dream I'm looking for him for answers to something, some problem or challenge that we are facing. But I can't find him to help me get out of it.

In these dreams, when I'm looking for him and can't find him, I panic, to the point of crying hysterically until I remember that its just a dream. If I need him I can wake up and he is either right there next to me in bed, in the other room, or just a phone call away.

I don't have these dreams often, usually only when we are facing something life changing like the decision to stop treatment and trying and pursue adoption, or struggling with the aftermath of a failed adoption.

Its these dreams that remind me, as much as Michael is my support, ally and teammate in this journey - I can't make him my stronghold, my refuge, my hiding place in times of peril, because that is God's job. Its the shelter of His wings that I need to find refuge, not my husband. I think that is especially why I can't find Michael in those dreams when I need him - I'm relying on the wrong person for strength.

This is when I'm reminded that God uses dreams to help us see things clearer than we would if we were awake.

There is another dream I have sometimes, its of me and I'm pregnant. I can feel the baby move. I can feel the roundness of my belly and I'm so happy...and then I wake up and realize that I'm not pregnant, nor am I close to ever being pregnant. Reality hits that it was just a dream and I'm heartbroken and mad at God for giving me that dream.

There are others, sometimes I'm not pregnant, but caring for a baby, and I can feel the small weight of a baby in my arms...and then I wake up and my arms are empty and my heart is aching. I had even become so bold as to ask God not to give me these dreams as they were too painful to endure. And just to make sure that I didn't dream, I would purposefully wait to go to bed until I was thoroughly exhausted in the hope that I'd be too tired to dream. Sometimes it worked, other times it didn't, especially on nights when despite my body's fatigue, my brain was very much still active.

But what if I've had it wrong this entire time? What if these dreams that God has given me are promises and not tortureous dreams of longing lifestyle?

I told Michael about the pregnancy/baby dreams for the first time last Sunday. He told me not to discount them. I told him that it wasn't so much the pain of the dreams themselves as much as it was the pain of waking up and realizing it was 'just a dream'.

I'm sure God knows what he is doing by giving me these dreams; even if I don't know what He means by giving them to me. Maybe to remind me not to give up?

Michael is right, I shouldn't discount them. I might be throwing away promises God has for me...for us.