Rachel Young

wednesday, august 29, 2001

I woke up startled at 3:30am, with my heart racing and beads of sweat on my forehead. It’s the second dream I’ve had this week involving the same individual with the same ending. I’m behind a door and desperately trying to lock this person out. But they place all of their weight on the door, and I’m too weak to keep the door shut.

I’m sure this dream is symbolic.

When people tell me they never remember their dreams and sleep restfully into the night, I’m almost envious. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s rest, and I can’t recall exactly when these vivid dreams started.

But it’s something that runs in the family. My grandmother and mother are also “dreamers”. I told my grandmother once I wish I never had another dream again, and she said to me, “Don’t say that. It’s one of God’s ways of speaking to you.”

I wish He could write me a letter or maybe even email me instead.

Over the years, I’ve buried a lot of junk deep down inside where I can’t see it. I’ve always figured that was the easiest way to handle my problems, though I know it’s not the most effective. But these dreams always remind me of what I’ve hidden away, and maybe it’s God’s way of telling me, “Rachel, you’ve got some stuff to deal with”.

It`s so tough being a stubborn girl who never gets her way yet is unwilling to change.

rewind forward