Dreaming in Storm Mode

Early this morning I had a dream.  In my dream I was in a terrible storm.  I got news from my son Michael that my younger son Jordan had been killed by a driver at The University of Akron.  I did not understand how that could have happened.  He had only been nipped by the car's mirror.

When I got the news, I was so saddened by it that I could not even cry.  In reality, I have never felt a sadness that solid and deep in all my life.  As I called Jordan's grandmother to give her the news, I felt a spirit of calm through my remorse.  Although I was hurting, I felt the comfort of God telling me that I would go on because I could go on.

When I awakened, I felt such a relief that it had only been a dream.  That is when I began to cry from my core.  Try as I might, I could not hold the moan and cries in. 

After calming down, I realized that I should not focus on his dying in the dream.  Instead, I should focus on the promise in the dream.

I used to always say, "If something happened to one of my kids, they would just have to put me away."  I stopped saying that two years ago.  I did not want to give the devil a reason to try to prove me right.

God showed me in my dream that even in the darkest hour and during the darkest storm, there is comfort and hope.

I kissed Jordan as he slept this morning.  I woke him up and kissed him again.  I told him about my dream, cried, hugged him as he hugged me back and kissed him again.

He just sent me a text that reads, "Every time it comes to mind, just remember:  God ain't done with me yet."

I know, Jordan; and "ain't" isn't a word.