I can’t get the strongest dream out of my mind, but it seems to totally fit.
The night before, I had some sweet time with a couple of friends and they just randomly asked
me a question about my family and my family dynamics and my dad and so I ended up telling them a good bit of my story as I shared that I was writing it out and why. I was also going through a writing challenge, with Called Creatives. I was verbally processing those questions. My why was to encourage other people who have been in my same place and trusting God to have a plan to use it for His Glory.
I ended up sharing with my sweet friends Megan and Hannah, my story and how the writing played into healing with my dad and my mom and yet bringing up so much pain. I asked them to pray specifically.
->>> That I would not question why or that even in the midst of questioning, because it comes naturally, that I would continue to trust that God is who He says He is and that He’s faithful.
That night I had this very visual dream.
I was younger in my dream and something really painful had happened. There were streaks across my back originating in two different places. One group started in the lower left and went to the upper right. The other started just above and went in the same direction. They were raw and fresh, not quite scabs yet but almost. Still very tender and painful. Like an ombre scratch left from a flame or slide across pavement. It’s almost pretty in the symmetry but also makes you wince in pain to see it.
My mom is looking at it and my uncle is there. He’s looking at it and talking about some ways that he has to help heal it. He has the reputation in our family that he can fix anything.
Then I’m talking to a friend and she looks at my scars and she says, “wait, I can do something about that so that you don’t have permanent scarring, do you have a clean needle and thread?”
She takes a cleaned needle and thread and she tells me that she is going to pull it through just under the top of the scabs so that they’re not too thick so they don’t leave big permanent scars.
This made sense to me because when I was 16 I was in a really bad car accident and hit the windshield and I still have bumpy scars on my forehead. That’s why I wear my hair with bangs.
I must have laid down because she was working three-fourths of the way through my back and it was painful but it wasn’t excruciating like I thought it would be before she started and I asked for ibuprofen.
I started to wake up and she was near the bottom and I remember thinking no, i have to finish this dream so that she can finish my back so the scabs will not be too thick. I fell back asleep enough for her to finish and then I saw her. She was sweet and gentle and her appearance was a mixture of Hannah and Megan. Like they were going through it with me and helping the healing. I can still see the scarred back so clearly.
My daughter had an assignment to draw hands in college last year. The woman she drew was young and beautiful but the hands were tragically covering her mouth because they were skeletal to meet the requirements of the assignment. It’s a pencil drawing and it is beautiful and tragic at the same time. When I saw the drawing, I just wanted to help her. I wanted to know her story and her pain.
That is the style that my dream ended in. It is a beautiful back with tragically pretty scars etched across it.
As I reflect on this dream here are the things that stick out to me.
The night before I had been chatting with sweet friends about what is like to raise girls through puberty. I told them all the things that the people told me when I asked. The importance of relationships and how important it is to be engaged and be the mom who is having the conversation with your kids and how important it is for dads to be present and part of it. How it is an important part of the church and make sure they have friends and mentors. And help their girls have cool mentors and people they can talk to.
As I’m talking to them about how all of those things are important in raising young women not because I figured out but because I’m still in the midst of it figuring it out and as I leave I’m recognizing that they are my friends and they are helping me heal the scars and pulling the bumps out of the scabs so that the scars are not so ugly.
It’s actually this really beautiful picture of coming alongside someone and listening and being a part and hearing what they have to say.
My goal in writing is to come alongside other young women and help needle the scars, to help pull out the pieces of the pain so that what’s left is a beautiful pointing to a God that heals and satisfies.