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Flying Dreams and Hannah Moments

I miss the flying dreams of my youth. When I was young I had great flying dreams. If I could climb on something a few feet off the ground, I could push off it, stretch my arms out and be soaring. If I saw something interesting, I had to evaluate if there was something I could use to take off from again before setting down to have a look. It was exhilarating! When I went to bed I always hoped I would have a flying dream.

As I got older the flying dreams became more difficult. I had to be able to jump up high enough to pull myself into a cannonball shape, arms tucked tightly around my knees. If I could do that before I began to fall, I would be encased in a clear bubble and I could stay aloft. I would be able to hover in that protection until it dissolved and then gravity would take over. I would fall to the ground softly most of the time. Sometimes I would crash land, falling into places that were scary and always far from home.

I don't have flying dreams any more. Why is that? Is it because I am old and fat? Is it because I have lost the ability to believe in dreams or in flying? Or is it hope that eludes me.

Today I am unbelievably sad and I want to fly away. I feel the heaviness of life in a fallen world. I am overwhelmed by the smallest things. I woke up feeling this way and had a dental appointment to get my teeth cleaned. Bad combination. There are several areas in my mouth that the doctor is watching. "You'll eventually need a new crown or just lose the tooth, but it's not an issue we need to deal with now." The idea that I have decay occurring under a crown creeps me out. Not enough that I said let's make an appointment and deal with it right now! Still, it feels like a betrayal. They hygienist must have sensed my emotions and said, "Rosemarie, you have great oral health. It's not that you don't take care of them, it's that God gave you bad teeth." If you'll pardon the pun that hit a nerve with me. I couldn't leave the office quickly enough so I could be alone and cry.

I read an excellent post here on Healing for the Holidays. Good as it is, it has stirred up a hornet's nest of emotion for me. I hate being emotional. In my last post I admitted to feeling strongly both ways about Christmas. I love it, it reminds me of my salvation. I hate it, it makes me sad. Part of my sadness stems from missing so many I love and have loved, which is always intensified during holidays. I wanted a normal family growing up, I want a normal family now. Kellemen's article encourages believers like me who stuff their emotions to give their sorrows words. I don't want to. I want to tuck myself into a tight cannonball and float away.

For me before the words can come the tears have to come. I need a Hannah moment before God.



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