Fever Dreams

But a shout of joy comes in the morning

I live in the house I grew up in... yes, one could argue that there's been some difficulty cutting the cord, but that's another post... We live on "That Back Street" that runs parallel to one of the busiest roads in our city. When I hear the screeching of tires desperately trying to stop, I tend to cringe until the sound ends... hopefully without a crash. Most of the time you'll hear the screech, and no "Bang!". There were however, a few times where I've been unfortunate enough to have heard the bang at the end of the screech...

Tonight I heard an ambulance (another familiar sound here in Pucciland) which reminded me of the time I heard the most horrible screeching of tires...sounded like several cars... then the most sickening crash, thud, BANG!... next the sirens. I usually begin praying while I hear the screeching and my prayers adjust accordingly.  This day I was praying for ALL of those involved in the crash. I can't describe the feeling I had when not five minutes after the crash, our phone rang.  It was the local police, an officer who knew me and my family:  "Your father has been in a terrible car accident."  As it turned out, dad was completely unharmed in this accident...  He had lots of fun recounting the story. How he "saw the guy coming" in his rear-view mirror, and how he knew that he should let his foot off of the brake.  How when the man rear-ended him, traveling at an estimated speed of 65 mph, "He looked like Starsky and Hutch" as he hit Dad and became airborne and crashed right into the Burger King sign.  

Miraculously, no one was hurt that day. What I thought about this evening was how I felt in that moment when I realized that I had been praying for my Father in that accident.  I thought that there was no possible way anyone could have survived what I had heard. It was "fatal sounding".  Had we lost my Father that day... suddenly in a car accident, would I feel like I do now? 

Everyone in our family has stated, and on separate occasions, that this feels like a bad dream.  All of the ups and downs. It's been so that some days (most days) it's literally, every hour, that Dad's status changes from hopeful, to hopeless. It's only been the last few days that the doctors have made it clear that "hopeful" at this point, really isn't saying much... but that's "their hope", isn't it? 

I've decided that this is more like fever dreams instead of just one bad dream.  When you wake up perspiring and panicked... looking around for anything familiar among your surroundings to reassure you that you've woken up... slight disoriented relief.... then you fall quickly back into another nigtmare... This is it. This is what I feel we're living in... poor Dad is living this... and in so much pain. 

I'm praying for healing... even if it's just healing from the wounds left from those chains he was talking about the other night.  Something just isn't settled with Dad. 

As I mused over this tonight, I thought about "The Fever Dream" we're all experiencing, and the Lord brought to my heart, "Weeping may last for a night But a shout of joy comes in the morning." I don't know about you, but when I have fever dreams, the night is so long... it's almost as if I can see the spaces between the minute lines expanding before my eyes... but equally as overwhelming, is the joy when I see the familiar glow of the sun in the morning sky...

Our Son, will light up the morning sky... I don't know when, but I know He will.

Thank you again for your prayers... and Love.