Holding Hands

An excerpt from my journal. June 10, 2005

“I had this dream again. It’s reoccurred for awhile and it never quite made sense to me. I see a little girl, very tiny, very fragile, with a heart-shaped face and a button of a nose, with big blue eyes, and white blond hair bobbed cut and wisps of bangs falling into her face. She was barefoot on the front porch of her grandma’s house, staring out into the open fields across the dirt road.
She knew who I was as I walked up towards the house. She seemed so small. She got up from where she was sitting and walked up to meet me and took my hand as if to go for a walk. She fell in step beside me, silent for a moment. She stopped and looked up at me asking me, “Will it ever stop?” I knew it was the hurt, the years of violence she was about to witness, and the abuse that lay ahead of her. My eyes welled up with tears and she seemed to understand the unspoken answer. She let go of my hand and seemed to vanish. Moments later, she was walking hand in hand with a man whose feet didn’t touch the ground and the air shimmered around him. He carried an air of importance, of power, and of comfort. They continued walking hand in hand down the dirt road, he leaned down talking to her and she smiled back at him. She then stopped for a moment to turn and smile at me before disappearing before my eyes with this man.
I thought that little ‘Heather’ had died that day in that dream. Instead, I was given this dream as if to say, “Let go Heather, I’m in control and I’m here, with you, right beside you.” God had been holding my hand my entire life. He knew what lay ahead of me, He knew that it was going to leave me wounded, but I wouldn’t be alone. I was never alone. He held me in his hands when I was hurting and protected my heart that belonged to Him. He has healed the old, forgotten wounds and creating my heart anew if I let him, if I chose him, if I do His will through my own. I am being reborn.”

I look back to this entry and the power of this dream impacted me, it took my breath away. This dream was meant to give me a peace in knowing that God was in control and still is. When little Heather had let go of my hand and then reappeared holding hands with Jesus, it was a moment in which God was telling me that I cannot possibly control my life and all things in it. Instead if I chose to walk with God, all things are possible. That included healing all the hurt and facing the past with Him. Believe me when I say there are days when I still have trouble relinquishing control and fear of the unknown or imagined horrors over takes me. That’s when that still small voice whispers, ‘Let it go, give it to me’ and I surrender. My burden is suddenly lighter, nothing seems so tragic and the moment is bearable. Better yet, livable and everything is possible…

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