A year and a half ago this gavel fell. Nearly seven years ago we were licensed to foster to adopt. Last night I had my first dream about it all.
I woke up feeling suffocated by that vivid dream. The social worker, the visit, the anxiety and premonition that something would go wrong... The news that she would be taken from us and there was nothing we could do.
Nearly seven years of scenarios were bound together in that dream, but this time it was her. It was like my subconscious decided that it is finally safe to peel back these bandaids and face all the grief and fear and feelings of helplessness that I stuffed down for all those years. I hope once is enough!
I’ve always been a slow griever, so this isn’t really surprising. Grief is sneaky and oozes out around the edges when we least expect it. It demands that we face it. Sit with it. Poke and examine and name it... and when we refuse, it bubbles up in our subconscious - maybe in an unwanted dream, but often in anger or fear or a grasp for control over seemingly unrelated situations.
This untimely dream made me think about the grief and fear and loss we’ve all faced this year in one way or another. We’ve all had things precious to us ripped from our grasp- maybe it’s people we love who were lost to us, maybe it’s the grief over losing the normal and safe rhythms of life, maybe it’s the shaken foundation of things we trusted in and took for granted.
We are all grieving.
May we be gentle. Clothed in compassion. May our words point to truth and always be filled with love. May we give grace and the benefit of the doubt.
Everyone is fighting a hard battle.
And friend, whatever hard battle you are facing, whatever unwanted dream or unwelcome thought or swelling emotion seems to crash into your life today, He knows. Only He knows. Let’s let others around us off the hook for needing to say all and only the right things and be everything we need them to be. They can’t carry that. It is a weight too heavy.
Only Jesus.