I haven’t posted anything new in a pretty long time… things are busy, for me, and to be honest, I haven’t had much inspiration for something new to write in a while. In fact, I’ve hardly been able to write in my diary at all for the past few days… it’s like nothing’s really been happening too much. Of course, I know things have been happening, but everything seems kind of null.

School is hard. That nightmare I had has been haunting me.

Of course, no computers at my school have blown up yet. I’m not paranoid at school, per say, but every time I think of that dream I feel incredibly lonely. Incredible darkness. Just that feeling, of walking in to my English class, and everyone was dead. The dream wasn’t bloody or anything, which is good (my deepest fear is of injuries; I persistently fail to understand our society’s love of repulsively gory things, such as horror movies and haunted houses). I didn’t actually see in detail any corpses. I walked into the classroom and the floor was all covered in computer parts and desks and I just knew everyone was dead. It was an extremely emotional dream, to an extent I’ve never had before. I was completely overwhelmed by a feeling of loss, loneliness, and, maybe above all, I felt hopeless and helpless.

It was just a dream. But it was extremely realistic. It was so realistic that I was surprised to wake up. Even after I opened my eyes, I was confused to find myself in bed.

Another part of the dream I don’t think I’ve mentioned is that my mom kept crying, but she wasn’t trying to console me. Mainly, I was trying to console her. I’d been there when the school blew up, but for some reason, I could handle it better than my mother could. We came home, and she broke down, and I couldn’t cry for the choking loss brewing in my throat. After a while, Mom got in her car and drove away, and I went outside and sat there staring at the rocks in my front yard and telling myself it was real, it wasn’t a dream, I wouldn’t be saved – even though that wasn’t true, that it was a dream.

That’s when my friend’s mom came.

dreams and wishes. 62/365

Image by ♥ via Flickr

Sorry if I’m rambling uselessly about this dream. But I need somewhere to put it all away.

In some ways, the dream has changed my view of peace. The only way I am freed from the loneliness of the memory of that dream is by running to Jesus. The dream was lonely, but it was also chaotic. Not “chaotic” like “crazy,” but chaotic like… it’s hard to describe perfectly. Maybe I mean chaotic like an inward struggle to stay composed. Chaotic like everything was completely wrong. Chaotic like the world was turned upside-down, and nothing was where it was supposed to be. You know what I mean? The sad, sad, sad kind of chaos.

Thinking of the nightmare just makes me want to die. How am I supposed to be free of that? Only God can help me.

I wonder how non-Christians deal with that kind of heavy loneliness. What do you guys do? I mean, if I weren’t a Christian, I’d have killed myself long ago. And yeah, that seems sort of over-the-top, since I’m still just a little girl, but it’s true.

But yeah. Since that dream, I think I’ve fully realized the power of peace. The indescribable feeling of relief that comes with peace. Like when I run to God, the war is still going on, but I know I’m going to win. Because the Creator of everything in existence is right here, holding me in His arms. That’s the most beautiful thing I can ever imagine.

Psalm 27:1

The LORD [is] my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The LORD [is] the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid?

dramatic dream




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Last night I dreamed that I was in English class, and my friend and I were having a discussion about Christianity, and no one was taking us seriously.  Then, at break, my History teacher started dancing and singing Friday, before returning to his classroom.

Later, I met two of my friends and we were hanging out in the bathroom, when something happened.  I’m not sure; either they went silent or they left, and I got this odd, sickening feeling that something was horribly wrong.

So, I went back to my English class, and everyone was dead. All around me.  And I had no idea why.

Then my mom came and told me all the computers in the school had crashed and exploded, and fallen on everyone and killed them.  And I was the only one conscious, if not alive, left.

I’ll never forget that feeling, even if it was only a nightmare.  It was the feeling, deep inside me, of complete and utter aloneness.

Mom and I went home, and she kept breaking down crying, and I was just trying to make sense of it all.  I prayed, “God, I pray for strength, I pray for endurance…” the rest of the prayer escapes my memory.

I went outside, and for some reason, my best friend’s mom was in her van, just driving away from our house.  I reached out my hand, so she would stop.  She saw me, but didn’t stop, just kept going, leaving me behind, while I kept thinking how lucky everyone at my old homeschool co-op was, that nothing like this had happened at their school.

Then I woke up, gasping.

I still remember it too clearly.  That was the worst, worst, worst nightmare I have ever had.  It felt demonic.  While I dreamt, I kept telling myself that it wasn’t a dream, that it was real, real, real, and there was no escaping.  When I woke up, I was literally surprised that I had been sleeping.  It was a realistic dream; and I’ve had plenty of those, mainly nightmares — but this one was particularly disturbing.

I’m going back to school tomorrow, and I am scared to death just because of that nightmare.  The creepiest part of it, perhaps, was the fact that the beginning of the dream was a relatively normal, perhaps more enjoyable than usual, day of school.  And when I least expected it, everything went wrong.  Everyone died.  And only I was left.  And that feeling I had, standing in the ladies’ room, knowing, even then, that I was alone.

It’s strange, the things that come of our thoughts.  I don’t know where that nightmare came from.

I don’t know if that dream had a purpose. A metaphor, perhaps, for real life. I’ll probably be paranoid for the rest of the year. Was God trying to talk to me? Was that Satan, who created the nightmare, to scare me?

Remembering it shakes me to the core. The only way I can be comforted in the memory of that dream (and I am completely, completely serious right now) is by remembering the gracious, loving arms of God. In a way, such an overwhelmingly horrible vision brings me right to God’s side, because He’s the only thing I can think of to run to. He’ll take me in his big loving arms and He’ll never let me go, and He’ll tell me it’s gonna be OK; He’s got me.

He’s so beautiful.

Of course darkness flees at the sound of His name.

He is my Savior.

I’ll run into His arms.

You are good, You are good

When there’s nothing good in me
You are love, You are love
On display for all to see
You are light, You are light
When the darkness closes in
You are hope, You are hope
You have covered all my sin

You are peace, You are peace
When my fear is crippling
You are true, You are true
Even in my wandering
You are joy, You are joy
You’re the reason that I sing
You are life, You are life,
In You death has lost its sting

Oh, I’m running to Your arms,
I’m running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

You are more, You are more
Than my words will ever say
You are Lord, You are Lord
All creation will proclaim
You are here, You are here
In Your presence I’m made whole
You are God, You are God
Of all else I’m letting go

Oh, I’m running to Your arms
I’m running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

My heart will sing
no other Name
Jesus, Jesus

Oh, I’m running to Your arms
I’m running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign




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Song: Forever Reign by Hillsong

The desperately wicked heart…

Jeremiah 17:9

“The heart is deceitful above all things,

And desperately wicked;

Who can know it?”

Here is a harsh verse for you.  But it’s true.

It’s pretty self-explanatory.

Our hearts alone are awful.  Horrible.  “Desperately wicked.”

“Desperate” is a word we don’t much like to use.  It’s powerful.  A very powerful word; one that carries a lot of meaning.

When we say we’re desperate, we’re saying that we’re looking for happiness but we can’t find it.  Something’s missing; something vital.  And we are willing to do whatever it takes to find that missing piece within us.

Except, of course, face the truth.

Ever notice that?  People KILL themselves because they are desperate, and yet they refuse to accept God, the One who loves them more than anyone else.

“The heart is… desperately wicked.”

Desperate = willing to do a whole lot to fill the “God-shaped hole.”

Wicked = evil, twisted.

Then what does “desperately wicked” mean?

It means we’re desperate AND wicked.

It means we are desperate enough to do wicked things.

It means we are desperate BECAUSE we are wicked.

It means we have no God, in our natural sinful state.

It means we NEED God.

Like, we’re desperately in need of God.

“Who can know it?”

I don’t know why, exactly, Jeremiah put this question in there.  Maybe he put it there so we’d ask ourselves that question.  Maybe he put it in there because know human knows his own heart.  Maybe he put it in there to make us think of God.

Let’s face it.

We have no idea about our heart.  We don’t know it.

The overwhelming majority of our everyday actions are based on what?  Wanting to.  I want to eat this pizza.

But do we know why?  When asked a question, it’s unbelievable how often we say “I don’t know” in reply.  And why’s that?  Because we DON’T know.

We don’t know why we don’t know.  We just don’t.  We do things without a reason — and we don’t know why.

Okay.  We don’t know our heart.


John 2:23-25:

“Now when He was in Jerusalem at the Passover, during the feast, many believed in His name when they saw the signs which He did.

But Jesus did not commit Himself to them, because He knew all men, and had no need that anyone should testify of man, for He knew what was in man.”

Jesus doesn’t need us to know our own hearts.  Jesus already knows our hearts.

When we don’t know, He knows.

When we are desperate, He is there to quench our thirst and yearning.

When we feel especially wicked, especially dirty, Jesus is there with ready hands and ready blood to wash us clean.

He knows everything there is to know about you.

About every. Single. Person.  He knows every.  Single.  Thing.


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