I had a dream last night that was wonderful and devastating at the same time. Once I had the dream I thought about it all night. In the rest of my dreams I was describing the first dream to friends of mine. I also was also dreaming about when I woke up how I would feel disappointed about it only being a dream. Did that make sense?
In my dream Miles was healed. I haven’t had a dream about that in so long. It’s probably been years, and I’ve never had a dream about him being healed the way he was in my dream last night.
It was awesome. In my dream we had all just woken up. Everything in my dream was normal (which is rare for me.) Anyway, I had just woken up and I went to get Miles up for the day. He was laying down and looked like himself, but there was something new in his eyes. His eyes looked alive. There was Life in his eyes. He began to move around just a tiny bit. I could tell that he knew me and that he was trying to reach out to me.
Randy was beside me and I told him that I thought Miles was trying to reach for things. I told him to get one of the rattle toys that I had saved back from our other kids so I could see if he could grab it. (He’s never done this in real life.) Randy picked out a small yellow rattle from the box that I remember our other kids playing with and I held it out to Miles and so slowly he reached out and was able to grasp it. Then I waited to see if he would put the rattle in his mouth. When he did I was overjoyed! I remember telling Randy that if he could have control of his hand then at the very least he would eventually be able to control his own wheelchair and that if he could do that then he would be able to go to college and that everything would be okay. (I didn’t know I valued college so much.)
We were so excited to see such a small yet huge milestone! Then it was like a montage of milestones that happened throughout the day. We saw him crawling and getting under the bed to get to the box of toys for himself. Then we saw him running through the house. I remember I was face down crying before the Lord. Spencer was playing with Miles and wanted to show him everything all at once. Then I had a flash forward to very late in the night and my eyes were bloodshot and burning and I was exhausted but none of us wanted to go to sleep because we were afraid that Miles wouldn’t be able to do anything in the morning.
That was the end of the first dream. The rest of the dreams were me replaying the first dream and talking about the first dream and mourning the first dream. Even right now as I write this down my heart is physically hurting and it feels heavy in my chest. I feel Closter phobic at the reality that I can’t do one single thing to make that first dream come true. I can’t make it happen on my own. I can’t earn enough money to fix Miles. I can’t pray enough, worship enough, give enough away, serve the church enough or fast enough. There’s nothing in my own strength that can heal my son. The word frustrating doesn’t cover it.
Of course if God does ever heal Miles there will not be any way that I can take credit for any of it. That part is awesome, but being on the other side of healed makes that fact painful to my mother’s heart.
In my dream I was so excited because I was going to get to know Miles. Strangely I was excited about all the work I wasn’t going to have to do anymore. I was excited about getting to have a real relationship with my son. I was going to get to know him and he was going to get to know me and all his brothers and sisters and Poppa. That’s what I long for. That’s what I desire. I want to know Miles and I want him to know me.