That dream was a garden of Eden dream--"flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone," and "nakedness without shame." Eve felt safe and secure. Like I want to feel. Like every human person wants to feel. Like we were, as Eve, created to feel.
And you know what that dream showed me? How much I don't want an earthly man, or at least one who hasn't known depth and ancient timelessness. That man in my dream implicitly and easily knew and understood me. He knew I'd been hurt by earthly men, and he knew how to be the antithesis of their destruction.
But isn't that the female's ideal? Superman? Gilbert Blythe and Darcy and Thornton? ...Jesus?
It's funny, but I can't think of any very heroically romantic Bible men except the lover in Song of Songs, and he doesn't even have a name. I suppose that says something, doesn't it? All of God's heroes were broken and messed up...were unfaithful to Him (ok, not all of them, but quite a few!) and to their families. Most Bible men had plural wives and concubines and seemed to care little of the ways of a woman's heart.
But perhaps this is because of the focus on action and the sin nature all of God's unlikely heroes suffered from....I can never forget the oracle's word in Proverbs 30: "...the way of a man with a maid."
There were honorable men whose marriages we never see, perhaps because they were in fact successful (lack of drama!): Adam, Moses, Samuel, Jesse, Peter, John...perhaps all of these wives felt safe and loved and known and listened to. I'd like to know all of their names and stories.
Back to my dream. I want to marry the man in that dream! He would never leave me...he knew me without having to explain. He protected, covered, and even made my dreams come true. We had the bond of humanity's dream--complete oneness. I don't think I'll find that perfection here.
Which is precisely the point. I'll find it above the earth. I'll find it in Heaven. My heart fairly bursts that the One in my dream is real! Oh! I can hardly breathe!
Last night I chatted with one of the Mexian mamas I met when living in Guadalajara, and she spoke (or typed) a mother's blessings over me in Spanish. She said I am always in her prayers. I wept. The seeds I have scattered abroad do bear fruit--there is Papa's love where I have been, in Albania, Mexico, and Israel. That's where my heart yearns and burns sometimes--out there. Where the adventure lies. Where my Lover meets me in special and lonely yet exhilerating ways.
In conclusion, I am falling for my perfect Lover for forreally really, and kind of the first time in my life.
It hurts, too! My heart aches with lovesickness. My pride and judgement melt. Fear...is deeper seated, but trembles in this place. It has to go. Because my Lover's love hates fear.
Maybe when I can truly receive it is when I can see that fear of man and rejection and discomfort crumble.
Maybe I can love other people better?
I look forward to this transformation of love.
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