I mentioned sometime in recent history, about how I sometimes feel like I'm screaming at the wall, that God doesn't hear me. False, not only am I heard, but I'm answered. It's not been that long ago that there was an absence of hope hovering close, dreams about hope stolen, darkness all around. I'm reminded of a recurring dream that I've had since I was kid, it's one that I've consistently had when I run a temperature.
In my dream, the world is black and white, I'm in some kind of scrap yard surrounded my mountains of twisted metal. I'm just a young girl, I'm wearing a dress, I'm scared and lost, I take off running. The mountains of metal surround me on all sides, they move like water and they move with me and match my speed of movement. I finally stop running and the metal surrounds me in a circle, it piles up higher and higher until the light from the sky above becomes a distant spot creating a shaft of light which my gaze follows down to a spot in front of my feet. One little yellow daisy has pushed up through the rubble. A little bit of hope in a dark place.
I've been gifted much grace in recent weeks, hope has been springing up like daffodils through spring snow. The darkness of winter has passed and spring is on the horizon.
