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Wednesday, January 23, 2013

I Dreamed of Waking


I dreamed of waking
knees pulled to chest
comforter wrapped softly
the light still drowsy

I dreamed of waking
to a less painful truth;
to a time before
my heart squeezed itself
into a fist, or in some
open-hearted future time

A time not now

If enough mornings pass
will I reach a place
without mourning,
sorrow swallowed up
in quilts and lavender
tucked into bed corners?

I dreamed of waking
from a good dream
sweetness spilling
over me

I dreamed I was not dreamless
I dreamed I did not wake alone

I Dreamed of Waking
by Kat Cavanaugh LaMantia



I have several precious friends who have been robbed. Some have lost health, some family members, some have a spouse who forgot they were married. Death, betrayal, misfortune they can smother hope, dreams and a future. Some are tearful and some have "thoughts that often lie too deep for tears." *


One friend in pain told me she felt as if her husband had murdered their marriage and left the body unburied. (I share this with her permission) Morning is her enemy. For one fraction of a second upon waking she feels quite her former, untormented self- then she remembers the bed is empty and she is alone.

At a memorial service recently for the mother of a friend, the Rabbi spoke of how Moses turned aside to see the mystery of a bush burning but not being consumed. He said the Hebrew word to describe the bush refers to brambles, thorns. In the midst of the thorns burned the fire of God's Glory. 

Such is this life, he shared. God in the midst of our suffering not repelled by it or hindered by it and often coexisting with those thorns.  By His own admission it is holy ground.

The Rabbi also taught us that "I Am who I Am" is best translated, "Let me be whom I will be." What a thought! To let Him be whom He would be to us! To "let" God be Himself.

You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, Each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book. Psalm 56:8


When we are empty of dreams Our Father dreams for us. When we wake in an "empty" room we find He is there sitting quietly waiting for our eyes to adjust to His presence. Holy ground. God in the midst of our hurt, cradling our dreams, whispering to that open-hearted future. In that timeless moment, most importantly, just being there. Being God for us.


I dreamed I did not wake alone. 














*Wordsworth





 

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