When I mess up or feel lonely or inferior or unlucky or feel like nothing is right in the world even when there are things to be grateful for, I have only one explanation in mind: I’m only human.
I’m not perfect. I’m not optimistic 24/7. I lose hope. Worse, I sometimes lose faith.
I’d like to think of myself as a mature 28-year-old woman. When that maturity kicks in, I find that I’m able to realize when I’m in a slump. And with that realization comes a memory of a dream I had two years ago.
Before going to sleep at that time, I was wide awake, ranting about my financial woes to my then-long-distance-boyfriend-and-now-husband. All he ever told me was to pray to God for clarity, to help me figure out what I needed to do. I can still remember my answer: “What would prayer do? I have a lot of money problems.”
When I finally went to sleep, I had a dream. I was in my aunt’s house, in their prayer room. My aunt was praying with me, to heal me of my illness (somehow, in my dream, I had flu). Suddenly, I heard the door lock. My aunt left me alone in the room. I banged on the door, pleading for someone to open it because I felt scared being alone in that room with only the statue of Jesus for company. To my surprise He moved. The statue. But it wasn’t a statue anymore. It was Jesus, flesh and blood.
He came towards me with arms outstretched. He smiled and wrapped his arms around me. I felt warm and calm. I started crying. He held me in His arms while I was crying.
And then I woke up.
I can still remember how calm I felt when I woke up from that dream. I doubted the power prayer, and in an instant He reminded me that He will always be here for me.
He is always with me.
To this day, I haven’t had a similar dream. I miss it, to be honest. I felt so close, so intimate with Jesus. It was the best feeling in the world.
But therein lies the truth: He is with me. Always. I can be close, intimate with Jesus through prayer and faith.
He is with me. And that’s not going to change.