I awoke like a shot in the dark at 4:12am from a dream.
It was frightening and beautiful all in the same breath.
My 7-year old son, Sam and I were in a prison cell.
There were two beds. He and I were facing one another aware that this night would be our last on earth.
We were talking about all of the things that we would do together in Heaven...dance, sing, run, ride bikes, swim, play...and all of the people that we'd be so happy to see.
It was painful. I vividly remember trying desperately not to cry or to seem alarmed or anxious...but only to be in the moment with him...grateful for our time together.
And then the guard came in and turned the lights off.
I woke up instantly scrambling to find him. Stumbling downstairs, I opened up his door to see him sawing logs...sleeping blissfully.
Turning on the coffee pot, I thought, "Am I enjoying my children or am I surviving these very needy moments of childhood? Am I seeing them as temporary gifts from God or am I feeling them as burdens?"
The truth is that it is a gift to have as much time as I do with them and before I know it, they will be in school all day, participating in activities in the afternoon, and spending time with their friends at night. And, our story book reading, puzzle making, swimming days will be limited.
Dreams. They can be powerful and thought provoking especially if you find yourself in a prison cell.