The effect of a dream

"Ooh, what's this?" The sight of a pile of cookies caught my eye when I entered the kitchen. One snickerdoodle. Two snickerdoodles. Every bite exploded with a wonderful sensation... like your favorite day of the year. Or when your best friend came to spend the night. Or hearing one of your favorite songs play on the radio. Or getting what you wished for on your birthday... of course, that last one could never be true for me, because every birthday I did wish for something, it wasn't for a pony or a pretty dress... I wanted to get married. Makes me smile now...

Very few times have I had dreams which I carry with me throughout the day. Then again, only one time before has a dream ever come to a conclusion before I awoke. But this one had a different flavor, a bigger, sweeter bite of the snickerdoodle. No, I didn't get married (those dreams always scared me, I could never see the groom's face, and when I did, I played runaway bride). I can't remember exactly what all the intricacies were, but the gist of it contained these few children to whom I had grown extremely close, mainly this one boy, Collin. For some reason, we had to be taken from our current location and transported to a safer shore. The aircraft - I'll call it that because I don't think it was a plane - took us all across this great expanse of ocean, but just before we reached mainland, an engine failed. Then again, an explosion sounded and we began falling.

We weren't very high, maybe a hundred feet, but one by one we fell out of the aircraft, down to the shallower waters. From where I hit the ground (and I don't remember how) I could feel the water pulsating against me as I lay sprawled on the beach. When I came to my senses, I realized that I was the only one on the beach. All the children were in water which was just over their heads. Distinctly I can recall three little boys I lifted from the waves, and other civillians came from the beach to pick out the rest. They stood there, as if rooted like little mushrooms just below the surface.

But I couldn't find Collin. A sickening sense overwhelmed me, almost as if I had lost my own child. For all I know, maybe he was. About 20 feet away, a group of four or five beach goers had formed a circle in knee deep water and stared down into the water between them. Frantically I fought the incoming surf to get to them, instinctively guessing that another child must be the cause of attention. Squeezing through the circle, my eyes followed theirs and there was Collin, holding his knees and sitting just under the breaking waters, but he wasn't crying, it was almost as if he was waiting; waiting for me to come to him. When he saw me, everything else was forgotten as he jumped up to clasp his arms around my neck and receive the embrace I was more than willing to give. It was second nature to me, to hold on and not let go. There were no tears, of joy, of relief, or anything of that nature, only a feeling that everything had been righted and nothing could be nearer to perfection.

He wanted me... he was waiting for me to come to him... he loved me so much he wouldn't accept help from anyone else. This child and I were somehow inseparable, nothing else mattered to us except that we had the other. That feeling of loving acceptance was so powerful, so beautiful, that I carried it with me from the time I awoke (an hour before planned, albeit) till now, as I prepare for bed. For once, I'm not sure how to tie that into something about an aspect of Christ which is clearly seen already.

The book Captivating, Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul by John and Stasi Eldredge has me... captivated. A whole new view, a new outlook, a new bond. Someone who actually understands and can touch on aspects of me which I didn't know what to do with. Why did I always dress up, want to wear grandma's costume jewelry? Because women just have a desire to be beautiful, and though some of us look for it in magazines and airbrushed photos of anorexic and silicone filled models, or that new diet or whatever, we forget that there is so much beauty within which God has blessed us with. He created women for a purpose, we are beautiful because we have an aspect of God which the guys don't. We are very in touch with our relational side, we like to know people, to befriend people, to be understood and accepted for just who we are.. to feel beautiful. God is so into having a relationship with us, men and women, that he puts that little chip into our lady heads to display his affections. He appreciates beauty, he loves to converse with us, to be a part of our entire lives, even what is most intimate to us. Women carry this... which is such an amazing gift.

There's also a part in the book about how women want to be romanced. Oof. I don't know if I've ever read something so pinpointedly accurate about myself.

"To be the beauty, abducted by the bad guys, fought for and rescued by a hero - some version of this had a place in all our dreams. Like Sleeping Beauty, like Cinderella, like Maid Marian, or like Cora in The Last of the Mohicans, I wanted to be the heroine and have my hero come for me. Why am I embarrassed to tell you this? I simply loved feeling wanted and fought for. This desire is set deep in the heart of every little girl - and every woman. Yet most of us are ashamed of it. We downplay it. We pretend that it is less than it is." (Stasi, Captivating, page 9)

Yeah, I get that. I feel dumb for wanting such a thing, as if it doesn't exist, 'cause now it's 21st century and those dreams are for little girls who still believe in the tooth fairy.

What did I used to dream of as a girl and into my teen years?

"He'll come on a horse and take me with him..."

"What if I was having to be forced to marry someone else? Then he would come and defeat the evil groom in a duel to the death."

"He will make me fall in love with him, even though I wouldn't like him at first, but then we'd be best friends and face dangers together."

I may not think so much this way as I once did... but it's still the backdrop to my hopes. Even in today's lyrics, this expectation of more than we see is desired, hoped for, and we don't want to settle for anything less...

"I wanna love
I want a fire
To feel the burn
My desires
I wanna man by my side
Not a boy who runs and hides
Are you gonna fight for me?
Die for me?
Live and breathe for me?
Do you care for me?
'Cause if you don't then just leave"
-Kelly Clarkson, Walk Away

I'm a romantic, I love to be loved, to have attention and to lavish it on others in return. I'm just cursed with the awful feeling of impeding on other people and am thus too scared to approach them. I've never been good at initiating, especially if the person is of interest to me.... ha ha. Usually I end up being the observer, and a guy never knows that I like him because I don't have the nerve to talk to him outside of a "hello". But I know God understands my quirks, I don't have to be shy with Him, He knows me in and out, He calls me beautiful, He gives me flowers to brighten my path... He loves me. Sincerely, truly, undoubtedly, fiercely.