I just woke up from a dream where I and a handful of other people were on an “island” in the middle of the ocean, only the entire island was more of a sandbar that was completely covered by sea water. There were no trees, no vegetation at all. There was nothing but water to be seen all around us. Somehow we had found an area that was only about 1-2 feet deep to rest instead of the miles-deep water around us.

I had large, thin and flat book, like a children’s book, that I was trying to use as a makeshift desk laying across my knees, a small stack of paper, and two pens. I was trying to write a letter to my husband. I remember writing “I don’t want to be here. I want to see dolphins with you. I want to go fishing with you. I want to go on road trips and walk on dry beaches and watch sunsets with you.” And then a wave lapped up and began to get my paper wet. The pen stopped writing because it was also wet so I tried to rub the tip on my shirt, which happened to be my turquoise, long-sleeved fishing shirt I’d wear when I was in The Keys with Scott. I scribbled on the bottom of the paper and it began to write but I was worried about it getting wet again and not being able to finish my letter. I jumped up and turned around to see a small area of dry sand had popped up from the water, as if the tide had gone out just a little, so I asked the person sitting beside me in the water to hold the papers I had written so far and keep them above water so I could walk over to the dry spot to finish my letter. I went over to the small “beach” and sat back down to write again. I don’t recall what I wrote then but I looked up just a few moments later and my little book and other papers were underneath the water, sitting on the bottom (somehow not being moved by the ebb and flow of the water, which was constantly undulating the way the ocean does) and the person I asked to hold it had walked away and left it there. I got so upset because there was a whole page of writing already there but now underwater. I ran back to that spot and picked everything up, sopping wet with rivulets of water running off all sides. It must have been in ball point because the words were all still there but it felt waterlogged and ruined. I was so angry at the person I asked to hold it. You couldn’t hold it out of the water for even a few minutes? You couldn’t have just brought it to me instead of leaving it to lay on the bottom? Of course, I don’t know why I left it with someone else and didn’t take it with me in the first place. I was crying and said “Now I can’t even finish my letter; I just wanted to finish writing it.”

And then I woke up.

I’m sure a therapist would have an interesting interpretation of this but I’ve tried therapy with three different people since Scott’s been gone and suffice it to say it didn’t work out with any of them, but that’s another whole post. So I’m sitting here now not knowing what to do with this unfinished feeling that is so like what my life feels like so often right now already. I still don’t know how to start over. It’s the calamitous feeling like when you’ve just written a 20,000 word college paper, or finished a power point that took you hours upon hours to create, and the computer battery dies or the power goes out. You turn it back on to find the autosave wasn’t turned on and you’ve lost it all, all that you had accomplished. You try to start it again but you already know this second one won’t be nearly as good as the first because you can’t just write the same thing over in your frustration and devastation over the loss. It’s like that feeling but one hundredfold. A thousandfold even.

I normally forget my dreams before I wake up or shortly thereafter so I wanted to write it down in order to remember it long enough to think about what it means fully. I know that dreams don’t always have some intrinsic meaning, but sometimes they are your brain’s deep-seated interpretation of what’s going on in your life. This one has the feeling that there’s more to it than the obvious things I can decipher right now.

Now I’m going to go get coffee and move on to doing my daily devotionals, scripture reading, and my morning quiet time to pray. Today I will add the prayer that, if there is more I need to analyze or unravel in this, something that would be helpful to my perspective on life right now, that it will be revealed to me. For now, I’m just left with a different version of my everyday feeling of loss and misfortune.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰!

𝙀𝘿𝙄𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙊 𝘼𝘿𝘿 (𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 15-20 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙫𝙚):
The very first scripture from my first devotional this morning as I sat down to read after making my coffee:

“When [Peter] looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink. He cried, “Master, save me!” Jesus didn’t hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his hand. MATTHEW 14:29–31 THE MESSAGE”

The last paragraph and prayer starter from the bottom of that same page:

“There is nothing beyond God’s ability to repair and redeem, but the key to believing this is holding on to that truth—not our circumstances. Just as Jesus didn’t hesitate to reach down and keep Peter from sinking, He won’t delay reaching into your life and grabbing your hand. He is just a cry away.

Lord, help me! Sometimes I struggle not to feel overwhelmed like I’m sinking into an ocean too big to get out of. Please grab my hand and hold me close in a safe and still place. Keep me on solid ground, where my faith remains intact, and my hope won’t waver. I believe You are still in control and that You will help me through my circumstances. I trust in You and rest in Your peace, and I thank You for the power You give to get through this day in victory.

IN YOUR NAME, I PRAY. AMEN”

Folks, God is HERE. He is in the middle of the mess. He is in the middle of that ocean of destruction you’re wading around in. Not only is he 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 but you and your feelings of loss, devastation, despair, and melancholy are important to Him and He 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙪𝙥 to let you know He’s here when you look for Him. God is not the author of coincidence. He is a designer with intention. 𝙃𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚.

P.S. If you’re not a believer and you’re thinking that this was, indeed, coincidence then understand that this is not a one-time event. God speaks to me in this way on the regular. I can be struggling, asking questions, lost in despair, and He comes through in scripture over and over again in the most random of ways. I’m telling you, 𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.