My Daughter's Dream

My granddaughter was talking to me the other day about listening to God when He tells us the right thing to do. She said, "Some people call it your conscience, but when I hear it, I know it's God." I agreed. And I was reminded of a dream her momma had when she was a little girl, even much younger than my granddaughter, at 12 yo, is now.

I told my granddaughter about the dream, and thought I should write about it in my blog, yet another memory not to be forgotten.

When my daughter was somewhere between the ages of 6 and 8 yo, she came to me one day, and she told me she'd had a dream about Jesus.

I asked her to tell me more. She said, "Well, I dreamed I went into my closet and then I went up."

 I marvel even now at this first part, because what I know about my youngest daughter is that she has always had a prayer-life. I remember when we both worked at the Red Cross at the same time, when break-time came, she was never to be found outside smoking cigarettes with the rest of the staff. No, she closeted herself in one of those small little rooms with a cot where one could go lie down for a bit if not feeling well....and she prayed.

So as she told me about her dream, she said, "I went up, and I met Jesus. He sat me in His lap, Mommy, and He told me right from wrong. And, He had blue eyes."

As it turned out, I remember reading a letter that was supposed to have been written by one of the very Roman soldiers who were present at the crucifixion. He described Jesus and.....he said.....his eyes were blue. I imagine that was of some note, since most of the eyes of people born in Israel at that time would certainly not likely have been blue.

My granddaughter said "How come Mommy never told ME about that dream." I said, "Well, honey, why don't you ask her about it?"

Me? I never forgot her dream.