Sunday, April 12, 2015

An Interesting Dream

Most of my dreams seem fairly insignificant.  I do have a few that I recognize to be of spiritual significance, but I really don't have all that many memorable dreams.  I do, however; dream in color.  Having now used three sentences to say nothing, let's get to the point.

I dreamed I was speaking to a group of young women.  In the dream I was aware that all of these young ladies had some sort of inferiority complex in regard to their appearance and/or shape.  The group, as I remember, was basically average.  No one was dramatically beautiful or intensely homely.  The young women were not what I would call obese, but all indicated they were not pleased with their weight or their appearance.  They were all in search of "something" that would make them more attractive, which was to be the topic of my presentation.

As I spoke, I produced past photos of myself through the years.  This would be very out of character for me, in that I consistently hated to have my picture taken, always feeling fat and ugly.  With each photo, I gave my age and basic life circumstances at the time.  The presentation was somewhat interactive, so the girls made comments and asked questions throughout.  With each explanation on that trip down memory lane, a different girl would raise her hand to offer some sort of acknowledgement or insight.  It was amazing how many of the girls just couldn't understand why I had such low self esteem in those photos.  I responded with the same question and comment to them.

In the dream I seemed so natural and relaxed, which in and of itself is odd . . . One photo, stood out amongst all the others.  It was a wedding photo in which I was so thin, my complexion was ashen.  They asked me how I felt about myself at that time, and I answered honestly.  It was the one time and last person who made me feel desirable, but . . . I was really sacrificing my health to be that size and more importantly, by then I realized, I was counting on him to make me feel like a woman.  Ultimately, when the new wore off and it was time to just be a couple, I blew it.  He loved me, or at least tried to love me, for who I truly was.  My youth and weight made no difference to him, but my inferiority complex was so deep, I couldn't grasp that.   As I shared that with the girls, they fell contemplatively silent.  I could see their wheels turning.

In sharing the last wedding photo, I shared with the girls that I truly thought I "had it together" spiritually, emotionally, and was physically comfortable in my own skin, until . . . my honeymoon was a disaster and I found myself hanging on by a thread, spiritually.  I clung to Messiah.  Many times over, I found myself quoting the Psalm about the Rock that is higher than I.  Something had to change, and I was obligated to my circumstances.  It would take me a full 10 years to realize my self-image was not based upon how someone else, that man, looked at me.  In 2012, I looked in the mirror, finally happy with the reflection looking back.

As I moved out from behind the podium, I stood there 57 and full figured, and simply stated.  "I like myself the way Abba created me to be.  Being content is beautiful!"

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