Dreams & Reality

I have been thinking a lot lately about my current dreams and present reality. There have been certain times in my life that when I do not allow myself to answer my own questions of reality, my dreams quote the answers. It seems as if I nightly fight against that which I dream. I hope beyond all hope that the same dream I have had repeatedly will not haunt me that particular night. I can’t remember the last time I had a restful night of sleep, one void of dreams. All I want is some peace, deep slumber and the absence of all dreams.

My dreams:

My dreams consist of the same characters, the same situation, the same exact setting. Matter of fact, I have created places and things that don’t exist in my dreams that I have found myself having déjà vu over. It has become so exasperating. I awake every morning with the same questions… is it over? Have those words been spoken? I glance quickly at my phone, and then sigh with frustration when I soon realize, it was all a dream. How can a person awake sad, isn’t the day before supposed to be erased? I begin every morning with my past, and somehow throughout the day, my present overrides it. Sometimes my own fear jolts me out of slumber, and then there are those moments when I awake in the middle of the night and my skin burns from touching him. Then reality sets in, and I instantly become angered, for I don’t think of that in my reality, only in my dreams. If realities are just dreams, then am I really mad or upset? If you forgive someone in your dreams, but you hate them when you awake, which one do you really want? Like right now for instance, I am saddened, but angry. Give me some sleep and I will be sad and lonely, I wonder if when we dream our facades are automatically stolen and our life as we don’t know it comes alive. It is something to ponder on.

My reality:

I am standing before the “throne of judgment.” I have spoken every word I have kept secret, and reveal every true feeling. I have persuaded, convinced and explained all motives, every happening. I cry from my frustrations and pull at my hair in desperation, pleading to end this madness. I can see the face of the judge in front of me, for a moment as I look into the judge’s eyes, I am at peace. I touch his hand, my heart stops for a moment, and then begin to beat contentedly, as I close my eyes. He sees all my tears and reaches up and wipes them with his fingertip, saying, “My child, rest easy, all is well.” I feel overwhelmed, someone understands, someone knows my heart, and my true feelings. I cannot hide, nor lie, He knows the path of every tear, and He places His arms around me, and holds me, protecting, shielding. I look at Him, and say, “Why does life bring these situations? It does not make me stronger, it causes doubt. It causes me not to trust, and you know how hurt I have been in the past, but yet hurt meets me again?” Then I hear His gentle words of reproach, reminding me of His subtle warnings. What else can I say? My head lies in His lap, weeping. But I don’t have to say a word, He has seen the tears quickly swept away, can see the heart so broken, and the trust stolen. He says… “Say it is well with my soul.” How can I say that when I want this and I regret that…? “Say it.” But You don’t understand, I can’t live like this anymore, I am alone, desolate… I. I. I. me…. It is well with my soul… Yes, Lord, it is well with my soul, and I know that you will do the healing.