These Dreams....

I remember, at the very least, bits and pieces of my dreams every night. I love my dreams; I rarely have a bad dream. Generally, they are happy, interesting, or spiritual in nature. The ones that I remember the most are usually of a spiritual nature....the others, I usually remember glimpses of them throughout the day, and they make me smile--but I rarely remember everything about them.

Last night's was fascinating and it has stuck with me the whole day. I was wandering through a house with a few people here and there, and there was a little toddler girl, about 18 months to a year old. She would only come out from wherever she was hiding for me. I'm a boy mom, through and through, but this little one really grabbed my attention. She ran to me and I picked her up and held her. I asked a woman why she was so riveted on me, and the woman answered, "Because she is yours." Kind of matter of fact, yes? I looked at the little girl. She had black hair and dark eyes. Her hair was cut in a pixie cut, which is kind of a bob with bangs. I had such a powerful feeling of love for her, it was overwhelming. I wanted to protect her, to make sure she was safe and taken care of. For one reason or another, we kept getting separated; I would search for her, and she would run to me again, into my arms--only to me.

I've had an email conversation with a friend of my husband's and mine. He is unfamiliar with the concept of Grace; he is Catholic, and as much as this may irritate Catholics, it is a common thread with the ones that I've known. Guilt is the driving force in their faith--they never measure up to God's standards, so they beat themselves up for their failings. One afternoon my husband and I were at his house; his wife is Protestant and has been trying to get through to him on Grace, to no avail. They had some other friends there, most of whom we didn't know. For some reason, we got on this subject and I started doing something that I can't do normally in human to human interactions...preach. The words flowed out of me, quoting scripture, the whole thing. I can't even remember what I said, but it was all about God's love. For some reason it hit him, and we had a few email volleys trading and discussing scripture, until this morning when he sent me an email thanking me and telling me that it finally sunk in that God truly loved him, warts and all! I gave all praise to God, because it certainly wasn't from me. Praise the Lord!

It was interesting that I got that email this morning after my dream. Of course, that little girl was me. I think it was a spiritual dream; the message was that God looks on all of us, no matter how old we are, as children. How can He not, when we are His? I think I was supposed to see myself through His eyes--vulnerable, fearful, and with the need to have one person that can handle everything; protect and be with no matter what happens. He wanted me to see Him as He is; the parent who always seeks out the child, wanting to handle everything, to protect and be with them no matter what happens. I think we're supposed to see ourselves as He sees us, imperfect, fragile, and completely lovable.

He loves us all incredibly, you know? It's because we're His.