Pharaoh said to Joseph, "I had a dream, and no one can interpret it. But I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it."
It is over . . .
He is gone.
A freak head trauma. Brain injury. Coma. Death . . .
John, my husband, has passed.
Takes the part of his soul entrusted to me with him. To the place where I cannot follow.
My perfect world ends.
And, so does the dream.
Ends. Until . . .
Months later, still buried in grief, I hear the voice.
I tried to tell you. To prepare you. He is alright. He is better than alright.
"Better than alright," I whisper, eyes closed. John's favorite saying . . .
Tears . . . veiling my eyes.
Then, the fog lifts. I see with clarity.
The gate, the fence, the mansion . . . the room.
My Father's house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? (John 14:2)
The room . . .
The dream. The recurring dream. In which the Lord shows me all I need to know.
The dream I understand at last.
And, find comfort in the midst of my sorrow.
For, I know John is home.
And, better than alright.
Have you ever had a dream that something happened and, later, it actually did?
Will you pray with me?
We pray today, Father, for all those whom we love who have entered into Your heavenly home. Until that glorious day when You show us the room You have prepared for us, may we do Your will and walk in Your ways here on Earth. Amen.
Psalms 24, 29 or 8, 84
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