Sometimes my dreams are so realistic I wake up mad at someone who hurt me in the dream. I’m talkin’, punch in the throat mad. Or, if I have a realistic and depressing dream, it will haunt me and leave me limp the entire day.
I recently visited my friend at college; going to all her classes and meetings and spending the night in her dorm room. The cafeteria experience must have been fresh on my brain because one of my dreams that evening featured a gourmet cabbage station. The enthusiastic cook was dismayed by my rejection.
My other dream was not nearly as entertaining.
My husband and I were at the gym. I was doing cardio as usual and he was hitting up the weights. I paused my machine to take a quick swig from the water fountain. On the way there, I spotted my husband walking away from me. My greeting caught in my throat as a hottie who was a regular at the gym approached him. For some strange reason, I ducked behind the fountain to observe.
The vision of beauty cut his stride short and let loose a dazzling smile. She reached up and squeezed his muscled shoulder. I felt my stomach drop at her touch. Why was he just standing there? After the squeeze, her manicured hand slid down his arm and dropped away slowly. I inhaled sharply as understanding flooded my brain. This was no innocent encouragement between workout comrades. It was an invitation from a wily temptress.
I couldn’t see his face. What was he thinking? Did he want to accept? I didn’t know. A sound registered in my frozen state. Alarmed, I looked down, trying to locate the source of the strange metallic groan. At first, the only thing I could see was the tightly woven cable linking my husband’s heart to my own. Then I watched in horror as one strand of our unity snapped with a twang. Pressure caused the strand to lash my heart before going limp. I clutched at the crack splintering my heart into shards but my hands were not fast enough to keep it together.
And I knew. His answer was yes.
Thankfully, I woke up. But I couldn’t shake the emotional effects of the dream even though my husband had done absolutely nothing wrong in real life. When I was finally on the interstate heading home I bawled. Between sniffles, I verbalized my thoughts to God.
“What in the heck was that dream all about? It was horrible.” My crying commenced again. “I know he didn’t do anything in the dream, but it was like I was watching the beginning of the end. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of pain.”
I pondered the depth of agony involved with watching someone I love deeply choose another. Discarding me. Severing the beautiful and holy bond between us.
“Oh God!” I gasped. “You have felt that kind of pain.” My mind raced from one instance of my sin to the next. Countless times I’d looked temptation in the eye and said yes. For the first time, I understood the effect this has on God. He is not an unaffected perfectionist maliciously pointing out my sin.
But He does love me so deeply my sin breaks His heart.