Last night I dreamed that I’d had the baby, a little girl who was inexplicably being called Melanie. There was a big family reunion and my aunts and uncles were all there. FOr some reason the baby had been taken from me at birth and I was seeing her for the first time some days later. I immediately tried to put her to my breast, but it was too late. She’d been bottle fed and couldn’t nurse. I cried. And woke up still upset.
It amazes me at times how much I love this little child inside of me who I have never seen face to face. I long for that day when we get to look into each other’s eyes. It can’t come soon enough.
And it stuck me this morning that it is the same longing I have for that ultimate meeting when I will see God face to face. In some ways I am like this little child in the womb, wrapped in comforting darkness. I wonder sometimes does my child also anticipate in some vague way meeting me? I know children are said to dream in utero… does the baby dream of me?
Come to think of it… that reminds me of a Barenaked Ladies song called “When You Dream”, a lullaby sung by a father to his newborn son, wondering what he dreams about.
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