Covered by His Grace

At this time, I was in an abusive relationship and had been in it for nearly a year. I was so far away from God that I felt like I couldn’t pray for help to find a way out. Then one night, I had a dream that was so real, unlike any dream I had ever experienced to this point. In the dream, I was back at my parents’ church where I grew up. I was kneeling on the floor in the center aisle, even with the first row of pews. I was facing the pulpit and the altar because I couldn’t even make it all the way up to the altar. My son was lying across my lap. He was cold, stiff, and blue in color with wrinkled skin. His body was so heavy and getting colder. He had stopped breathing. In the dream, all the older members were there who used to attend when I was a child. They were standing in their pews facing the pulpit but turning their heads, looking down at me in disgrace. I was crying and screaming out for someone to help, someone to call 911, but they all just sat there looking at me. They never spoke, but their eyes said, “This is up to you. You are here because of your choices. It is your choice to help your son or not. We can’t do it for you.” I felt completely helpless to save my son, almost like he was being taken from me for reasons I had caused. Then as I woke up, it was as if I could hear a warning saying, “This is what you can expect if you don’t get out of this place you are in.” I felt tears running down my face. It was the first time I had ever physically cried while in a dream. I was so disturbed that I had to get up out of my bed and go lie across my son’s little twin bed in his room since he was with his dad that night. I cried out to God so hard kneeling on the floor beside the bed. I told God how sorry I was for everything, and if He would give me strength and courage, I would get out of this place I had created in my life. It was one thing to battle over your child in a divorce, but this time, I was battling God, and I knew who would win that battle.