What Dreams May Come

.::Growing Pains Series::.

I was about 8 years old when I fully started to comprehend how behind I really was for my grade. I began to understand the pain of struggling and how much work I still had ahead just to stay caught up with other kids in my class. I remember, several nights I would pray and ask Heavenly Father to help me to read, that I would be able to break through this wall.

The frustration was so thick; it was like a clogged drain. I couldn't even put my feelings into words. One day while my mom was working with me on my reading, I just broke in half. I melted away into my own tears. I remember not understanding what all these letters were trying to tell me, to me they just danced across the page without purpose or order. That was the hardest I remember crying. My mom asked me to draw what I was feeling since I couldn't put words to my thoughts. I drew myself in front of a book with steam coming out of my ears. Reading made my blood boil.

As I got ready for bed that night, it seemed like my emotions diminished completely. I was back to my happy, playful self where the real world and imagination seemed to be in the same realm. 

When I awoke the next morning, I remember a vivid dream I had the night before. The dream was so enhanced with rich colors and textures, and the noises literally rang like a clear bell. 

It began with the world coming to an end. There were rainbows around the entire earth making the design of an element sign. I wasn't sure what to do, I saw a group of children {of all different diversities} my age saying they knew the way to safety. I decided to follow them, I being the slowest and the very last of all of them. We crossed over a rushing river and had to use stepping stones to make our way across. The journey to safety seemed centuries away, I was exhausted. We then were in a rain forest with exotic flowers, trees, and animals. There was a part on the path that had a giant log that was covered in moss that reached far above my head and it was blocking the path. It was too slick to throw my body over, and the lush was too thick to go around. Everyone had already passed me by, there was no one to help me over, no one to hear me scream. "I can't do it... I can't make it over this hump!!" With fear and frustration, I held my face in my hands and just cried. I knew the importance of the urgency to make it to this "safe place" and I believed I was stuck permanently. 

Out of no where, while in a pool of my tears, I heared a voice say, "I can help you!" Through tear-filled eyes, I argued with this voice explaining, "There is no way you can help me, I am stuck here all by myself and I can't do it!" I knew that the slippery log would betray my feet, and the height was far too high for anyone to help. Like a rush of wind, I again heared a soft and loving voice say, "I can help you. Take my hand!" I looked up, trying to find the voice. I do not see a person, but a man's hand reaching out to take me home. It was a hand that I had recognized, something I had seen before. It was strong and solid; there was no doubt or fear in that man's hand and I could feel the promise he was extending! Matching the voice to the hand, I was excited to know I was going to be OK. Anxiously, I took his hand and he lifted and pulled me up over the giant log. I was there!!! I was with everyone else. I was in a "safe place" that was so beautiful, a place that your imagination couldn't even begin to paint. It has so many amazing details. 

I stood there with all the other children, taking in the gorgeous scenery. I remember rejoicing with everyone and they were happy I was there with them. There was a sense of peace and relief that assured us we were safe and sound and had nothing to every worry about.

Being 8 years old, I knew that this dream was significant. I knew it had great meaning to me and that I would hold on to that memory for the rest of my life. At the time, I remember thinking, "This dream had to do with my learning disability. I will be OK one day, I will get it! There are people around me who are here to help, and I know that God knows all that I am feeling. If I would allow it, I could lean on Heavenly Father and he could literally lift me up."

Now, 16 years later I feel much more emotional about this memory. To me it was a very spiritual experience and I treasure the meaning it has. I still think of this memory during other trying times and it seems to comfort me the same way as it did that one day when I was 8. 

Some time after my dream, I came across this photo. It has always stayed in my memory because it resembled my dream very closely. This painting is called "Be Not Afraid" by Greg Olsen.