Waking

MY EYES OPENED widely in the thick black darkness of my bedroom one silent night. All was still and eerily quiet. But then, I heard the faint tapping of paws on the wooden floor, followed by deep, muffled breathing with a subtle growl. Then, after a torturous pause. I began to inch the covers over my head. But he knew what I was doing. I felt his hot breath and razor-sharp fangs through the covers.

A vicious dog, or maybe worse, the kind of beast that taunts its prey before devouring them, had entered our house and found me. Should I cry out? I shivered with panic. I knew I didn't have long to live. Frozen, my heart began racing in my throat.

I was only three . . . five years old at the most, too young to die, too weak to defend myself. Somehow, I mustered enough strength to whimper, "Help! Mom!!!"

My mother appeared out of the pitch-black to rescue me. At last, I saw her face. “Shhhhhhhhhh,” she softly reassured. “Don’t be afraid. It’s only a nightmare,” she whispered, taking my trembling hand. "Go back to sleep."

I pleaded with her to stay with me, lest the monster return. Kneeling by my bed, she stroked my hair and forehead until I fell asleep. “Everything will be okay,“ she kept repeating. The daylight came, and there was no trace of a rabid animal. But Mom was standing over me, smiling.

Bad dreams, tortuous memories, and sorrow characterize moments in everybody’s journey. They appear in many forms, from situations to other people, making it clear that fear is the preferred weapon of our unseen adversary.

Bad things happen alongside the good in everyone’s life. Think of it as a road trip on a narrow winding highway through the varied landscapes of our years from the beginning to the end, divided only by a faded centerline mark. On one side, all seems well. We're just enjoying the ride. The scenery and experiences are pleasant (but we can’t help thinking that some things could and should be better).

In the other lane, speeding cars and loud trucks with smelly exhausts barrel toward us and could harm or kill us with only the slip of a hand; things are literally not going our way but are going opposite to us! But in pensive moments, if we’re honest, we admit that things could be much worse.

I don’t have statistics, but I imagine anxiety medications (whether legal or otherwise) abound in the households of the United States. Just listen to the nightly news. Maybe not. But we know that so many people don't enjoy the journey of life.

Were our lives meant to be one worry after another with a few happy moments strewn among them? I don’t think so. Life was meant to be robust. Still, when we’re in that nightmare, those tough times, and we ask ourselves how we got into this mess, it can seem so real and hopeless.

Psalm 17 suggests that this life is a dream as it reads in part, “My contentment is not in wealth but in seeing you (God) and knowing all is well between us. AND WHEN I AWAKE in heaven, I will be delighted, for I will see you face to face.” In death, we awaken to reality—much like the day I awakened to a safe, peaceful, perfect day at home after a nightmare.

Like my mother, I imagine God will be right there smiling as we finally meet him.

God took care of uncountable details while bringing us safely to earth; why would He need help getting us through this life and back to Him? Trust all your nightmares and daily worried thoughts to his care. Consider the beauty of this truth, a concept that I hadn't learned when I was only a toddler: “You can go to bed without fear; you will lie down and sleep soundly. You need not be afraid of sudden disaster or the destruction that comes upon the wicked, for the Lord is your security.” ~ Proverbs 3:24-26.

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