Fragile

Two nights ago, I had a dream.

A little back story first though. Two weeks ago, my counselor had mentioned to me that I seemed to be in a better place. She also mentioned that perhaps I should start thinking about changing to every other week for counseling rather than every week. But, she also said she would not walk away from me and I could keep doing what I thought I needed because she would not leave me. My heart sank because I truly felt that there was no way I could make that change.

I thought about it into the next day. And thought she may be right. I mean, I have to do it sometime. Of course, the day after that was not great...nor was the day after that, or the day after that, right into my next week counseling session. Sheesh!

A couple days before my next session I started wondering if I was sabotaging myself so I looked a bit further back in my daily journal for evidence that I was still feeling this struggle prior to her thoughts at our meeting. The evidence was found on December 27th...which was right in the midst of the “good” that I was living. My journal entry that day let me know that yes, it still lingers.

“Sometimes when I think about Ed, I still can’t believe he is actually dead. Like this actually happened. Hard to explain. And...I liked my life before...a lot. And I hate it now - like I hate having to figure it out all over again. It is terrifying. I’m tired.”

I think things were maybe masked because of all the holidays and preparations that my family counted on me for. Also, here it was...January. One of the gloomiest months EVER where I live. So, I guess I was not self-sabotaging. That was a relief.

Okay, so back to my dream which came on about my 5th rough day...so, the night before my counseling. I will try to paint a picture of my dream because I think it was especially meaningful because of the week that I was in the midst of.

In the dream, I was out shopping with my mama...who is now with Jesus. We went into this little artisan shop. My eyes were drawn to these beautiful small figurines. They seemed to be made out of brilliant broken shells and thin colored glass shards. There was a familiar feeling, like I had been to this store before. My mama kept on walking through the store as I stopped to take a closer look. The husband and wife that owned the shop were standing right beside the counter. I knew the husband to be the maker of the treasures. I gently reached over and picked one up to look at it closer... and it broke in my hand. I apologized. I then picked up another one and it, too, broke in my hand. I was very apologetic to them. The man just stood there and smiled at me. The woman said, “Oh it’s ok, they are very fragile.” I continued to gaze at them and finally settled on wanting the turtle. The couple disappeared into the back room. I assumed it was to get a box for it. When they returned, the woman smiled and handed me a clear bag with brilliant shards of shell and glass in it, and she thanked me. I stood there a moment and looked at both of them. Perplexed. It wasn’t the turtle I had asked for. They only smiled and kindly looked back at me. In my head, I questioned if they knew what they were doing, but no words ever came out except, “Thank you.” There was no payment exchanged. I then moved on quickly, through the shop, to find my mom. I found her near the end, sitting at a table. I sat down and gently laid the bag in front of her, all the while wondering in my mind what I was going to do with this remarkable medley before me. She saw it, looked at me...and then I woke up.

I have since shared this dream with two people that have given me insight on my dreams before. One was my counselor and another a dear friend. My counselor and I sort of came up with the same feeling about the dream. My friend said when I had told her, there were thoughts running through her head but “Nothing was jelling into coherency.” Later, she shared this with me;

“I started thinking, and asked God to please let me know if there is more than we already talked about. This is what clearly materialized in my mind. You were there with your mom, she went on ahead, leaving you to look/live without her, just like she actually did. Then you were attracted to two beautiful, fragile, treasures that broke into shards when you picked them up. That was you and Ed, which is different than I thought. Then the wife of the husband and wife team that owned the store you were in, told you not to worry about it, that they are very fragile. I think that they, the husband and wife, were God. That His motherly side was consoling you. Letting you know that life is fragile; even when you handle it with care. Then you asked to buy the turtle, the thing that you like and want. Instead of being sold what you asked for, you were handed a bag of broken, sharp, yet beautiful, shards. I think that bag is the future God has for you. The bag contains your life. Now you must take the pieces your Maker gave you, and put your life back together. A beautiful, fragile life.”

She went on.

“Now my own mind also thinks that your mom was waiting for you up ahead, which she obviously is, but I also recognize that she too lost a husband, and had to rebuild her life. I know it was vastly different, yet also maybe not so different. I think you can draw courage and comfort from the knowledge that you are her daughter. That she knew how to rebuild beautiful life. You WILL do it too. I’m not saying that I’m speaking for God Himself, but I also can’t take credit for what came into my mind.”

-Lynn

Oh. My.

I have a couple responses here. Yes. And YES! SO much of that resonated with me. Some of the thoughts were similar to what we had discussed prior but there was so much more clarity. I had originally thought that maybe the 2 pieces that broke in my hands were Ed and my mama. And while that could be true...my friend’s revelation resonates more with where I was this week in my emotions and thoughts with my loss of my hubby. The fragile part is also very true. With grief, I have been able to be “ok” for even a long stretch. Whether that is me trying to ignore it, or being busy in life, or healing (truthfully, likely, all the above), okay is okay. But even now, at any given moment, the pieces can just break apart in my hands. Because grief can make me brave and strong and give me courage and simultaneously still leave me fragile.

Have you ever heard of Prince Rupert’s Drop? They are also called Batavian Tears. Rightly so. It is named after Prince Rupert of Germany.

The drops are made by dropping a fiery red bead of molten glass into a beacon of water. This creates a ball and tail...like a tadpole. The heating of the glass and then dropping it into the cool water is what causes the stress distribution and fracture resistance.

Basically this drop is both fragile and strong at the same time. The top or ball of the drop can be thumped with a hammer and will not fracture or break. But if you were to bend or snap the tail, the entire drop would disintegrate. You can watch a video of the process here. And for an amazing miracle that sent me into “Oh my gosh! WOW!”, watch this one!

Think about it. Our hearts can be hardened and yet broken-hearted at the same time.

Our eyes can receive an injury within a blink and yet be resilient enough with passive and active components to self repair or avoid the injury altogether. As people, we can be fragile because we are vulnerable to specific types of hurt, but we might also be strong because we are able to cope with adversity and challenges in many areas. Life is fragile. Life is but a mist.

”...yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” James 4:14

And life with God is strong enough to move mountains, powerful enough to move a deer with swiftness, and rooted deep to sustain and bear fruit. (Matthew 17:20, Psalm 18:33, Psalm 1:3) In II Samuel 1:23, David tells us that Saul and Jonathon were,

”...swifter than eagles. They were mightier than lions.”

So as I continue to process through my dream and what it all means to me, as well as likely transition to every other week counseling, I will be thinking about each of the elements in my dream and what they mean to my life as I try to figure out how to take those broken shards and continue to shape them into something beautiful. I invite you to “own” my dream too. Take it to heart and think about what it might mean to you personally. For you. How might you rise up to a dream like this? What would God be showing you?

TrailBlazing:

Walk around your home and look for your most fragile item. Preferably something you love. Handle it and think about your life and how much more delicate and fine you are to the King of Kings. In His palace, you and your heart are the most invaluable treasure that is both strong and fragile simultaneously.

Then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living person. Genesis 2:7