I woke up this morning at 2:30 trying to shake a horrible feeling that the dream I had just broken was somehow going to happen, even though I knew I was dreaming. In the dream, there was a fight, a very real possibility considering the drama that has been brewing in a modern day Cain and Abel situation in our family. I couldn’t go back to sleep for fear that this dream would pick up where it was when I broke free, but I could not move. I could only pray. So pray I did. I prayed over you, I laid hands on you, I spoke to God about you, I pled the blood of Jesus over you, I begged God not to let any harm come to you, because I could not handle it. Selfish, I know, but true. I prayed a half hour until I fell back to sleep, and woke in an hour to another bad dream. The second as bad as the first, although I can’t now remember it; it was enough to make me get up out of that bed. At 4:30 this morning, I gave up sleeping, to instead come out here and pound out the words that make sense only to me; to log my journal so that if there is anything that happens remotely close to this, I will know that God showed it to me. Although, I continue to pray that God will prevent it.
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Momma Rich's 