Labor Pains

In October of 2019, I had a dream.  I’m not using my Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. voice.  I literally had a dream that unsettled me.  It wasn’t a scary dream.  By now, I’m sure you’re wondering what the dream was about.  Alright.  I’ll tell you.

I was riding with a cousin in the backseat of a car.  She had a chauffeur.  It was a nice car.  Cream leather interior.  Spacious backseat.  The kind of car that I wouldn’t mind being driven around in in non-dream life.  We were driving along a stretch of highway in the desert on a beautiful sunny day. It actually appeared to be the Painted Desert. Unfortunately, I couldn’t enjoy this luxury ride, because we were in the middle of a precarious situation.

See, my cousin was hugely pregnant.  So pregnant that she was in labor during this ride that was supposed to be relaxing.  I wish I could tell you that I was cool and composed.  I wish I could tell you that I rubbed her hand and whispered encouraging words.  I didn’t.  I panicked.

I was freaking out!  I was crying and screaming.  Through it all, she just kept pushing.  The baby was coming.  She delivered a beautiful baby girl.  She passed that sweet little baby to me.  Then she did the weirdest thing.  She thanked me for helping her through her labor.  She told me that she was naming the baby after me.  Then she told me the baby’s name.

This is when it gets even weirder.  See…the name she told me was not Sareta Myisha.  But I readily accepted that her darling baby was named after me in dream world.  I didn’t question it.  I woke up from that dream and went to the bathroom.  I climbed back into bed and drifted off to sleep again.

For the rest of the night, I had restless sleep.  Dreams came and went.  I don’t remember what those dreams were about, but in each dream, I continued to hear the baby’s name.  The name was shouted at me all night long.  When I finally woke up for the day, I thought I might need to remember the name because it kept coming to me.

During this time, I was on high alert for a word from God, but I let that dream and that name slip through the cracks.  I hadn’t talked to this particular cousin in a while, so I decided to check on her to see if maybe she was expecting a new baby.  She wasn’t expecting a child, but God knew exactly who to send me to for revelation about what He wanted me to know.

She asked me for specific details about my dream, and then she began to interpret my dream.  She said that meant that I would experience new beginnings and big changes in the future.  This was a sign of financial success in the future.  A sign of honesty and abundance.  The name that kept being repeated meant life and rebirth.  The long and short of it is that God was making me over.

I had this dream WAY back in October 2019 but didn’t feel compelled to share it until now.  I didn’t have assurance or clarity about it until today.  I don’t like the way that I reacted to the labor in the dream.  I told ya’ll back in September in the blog “I’m Expecting” that something great was on the horizon, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.  Currently, my finger is on the great things.  And I have a choice to make.

I could be anxious.  I could scream, cry, and panic like I did in my dream.  Or…I could be calm, cool, and collected.  I could totally trust that God will see me safely through to the other side.  I can believe that He will get me to the new places in life that He has shown me.

All the sermons, songs, and people that I have experienced lately are pushing me to trust God.  Labor is not easy, but there is a great reward on the other side.  I’m pushing through to my miracles.  #wepreach