Midnight revelations

Okay it wasn't midnight. Maybe 2:41 am. Or It could have been 4:37 am. It has been different times for the last four nights.

The first night it was a dream about earthquakes and fires. I woke up abruptly and knew it was one of those dreams. Those dreams--the ones that if I did not get up for a drink and go to the bathroom to wake up would continue haunting me all night. I brushed off the dream in the morning figuring it was due to: a) the upcoming 20th anniversary of the '89 Loma Prieta Earthquake b) I had been in San Francisco more frequently in the last month and that always makes me think about earthquakes c) I had started to read a book about the 1906 earthquake and fires that ensued. While irritated that I had broken sleep, I didn't think to much about the dream.

Night two brought on more dreams. Dreams I cannot recall details from but definitely disaster of some sort. Another middle-of-the-night trip to the bathroom and then the kitchen to get a glass of water. It was Saturday night. So again I brushed it off to bad timing and figured I'd make up for the disjointed sleep in an afternoon nap.

Sunday night came. Once again another disturbing dream woke me twice. By the second time I was mumbling a few obseneties. I NEED sleep. I already struggle with getting enough hours. More days that not hoping that the 6 1/2 to 7 hours a night won't cause me to slip back into a nightmarish state in my waking hours. The details were a blur but something told me that these weren't just my normal random dreams.

I mentioned my strange dreams to a friend via email who recommended I write them down and figure out if there was some meaning. I started to blow it off figuring it was just random memories my brain was purging. But eventually I decided if I wanted continuous sleep again I had to figure if there was something there. Yet the details were all blurred. There were people but they were nameless and faceless. I recall a sense of panic and chaos but that was the limit of my recollection.

The fourth night of a waking nightmere sent me once again to the bathroom and the kitchen. This time I took a spoon from the drawer and served myself a tablespoon of peanut butter. Strange dreams in four nights called for a strange response. I crawled back into bed trying to move my legs around my dead-to-the-world-sleeping cat. And there I decided that my dreams were about me losing control. Or the chaos that happens when I pretend to be in control.

It was at some odd hour that this conversation occurred in my head. I think the peanut butter was God's way of keeping me quiet--and limiting the snarky comments that I often put in his mouth.


Me--"Okay God, what are you trying to tell me?!? This is the FOURTH night in a row I woke up from crazy dreams".

God--"Shannon, you have to let go of your control."

Me--"WHAT?"

God--"Your control. All of your dreams about how things go wrong when you try to control something. Or that things can be out of your control completely. I want you to trust me."

Me--"Could you not have told me this when I was awake!?! You know how much I need sleep!"

God--"No. You weren't listening to me. I knew you'd hear me this way. There are too many distractions for you during the day. "

Me--(thinking and bordering a pout)"But what does that look like?"

God--"Trust me and I'll show you".



Think what you will about this little conversation. Believe me I went through quite a few explanations of my craziness before catching the last few hours of shut eye. But the feelings and conversation were real. And the need to respond to this was real.

Limited by my humanity and brokenness, despite all the times I've tried so hard to ignore, deny, curse, and run from faith--I still believe. I still believe in hope, in love. In a God that is bigger than me. In a God who tells me a story that I can see myself living. That those who come before me share my story. The communities I have lived within, moved away from (for whatever reason) or will encounter at some point share in the story. And it's the story of my life that I don't want to just endure and survive but LIVE.

So to God I say:

"Bring it on. Bring on your correction. Bring on your lessons. I'll accept the suffering knowing that it produces character. But also bring the joy. Bring the beauty. Your love.

Forgive me when I go off the deep end like I do at least oh 1000 times per day!

Oh and one more thing--yup. You already know. Let my team's story end in a big silver cup this June. Even if there are more nights that the story is a little messy like it was last night".