545.

This morning, I had a horrible dream. Brought on no doubt by a tragic event close to home as well as the events surrounding the murders of the nine Bible study attendees in Charleston.

In the dream, I was a nanny for a family with a little girl. (Let's call her Mary.) We were returning to their home from vacation. We all exited the vehicle in the driveway; Mary's parents (let's call them Bob and Sally) proceeded to unload the car. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Sally's ex-husband inside the house.

My assumption was that Bob and Sally saw him too but most of my attention was distracted by Mary so I didn't ask. Mary was running towards a neighbor's yard, enticed by a colorful ball left lying in the grass.

I chased her, yelling, "No Mary! (I wish I could remember what her name actually was in the dream...) Come back, come back!"

Mary kept running, finally falling down in the grass next to the ball. I took her hand and led her back to her house, explaining that it was the neighbor's ball, not hers, and we had to leave it.

As I walked toward the house I began feeling apprehensive, knowing it was dangerous to go in with Sally's ex inside. I don't remember saying it aloud.

But my apprehension kept me in the driveway, watching tensely. I saw Sally's ex approach Bob and Sally. The three of them appeared to be talking amicably. Suddenly, the ex pulled a out gun. I saw two younger guys appear with ropes.

I turned and ran up the street, looking for a hiding place as well as people who might have cell phones. As I ran, I realized I'd left my purse in the vehicle. It had my i.d. in it, which had my address on it; I felt sick, knowing if the bad guys didn't catch me at that time, they could find me later.

Bob and Sally's neighborhood was fairly well-to-do. Beautifully-landscaped public areas fronted well-manicured front lawns that led to stately brick homes.

Frantically, I bypassed most of those lovely homes, seeking people who were already outside.

Believing that the men from the house would pursue me as soon as they finished with the family, I anxiously sought shelter. I passed a few homes where guys were out working. As I tore past them, I yelled out, "Please call 911! There are three men with guns down the street!"

When I reached the community pool, I thought its outbuilding looked like a safe hiding place. It was concrete and had a steel door with a lock. But I had a difficult time getting in. By the time the attendant came to unlock the gate and I explained the situation to him, the armed men were coming and they had seen me.

I panicked and ran into the outer area, on the far side of the pool, still outside. I frantically sought a back exit as the armed men came into the pool area too.

Sally was with them, as a hostage. Her wrists were bound in front of her and she was being pulled along by her restraint.

It was then that I noticed that the two young men accompanying the ex-husband were his sons from a marriage he'd had previous to marrying Sally.

I saw that the young men were armed with shot guns. I began to run, praying that I wouldn't be shot in the back. Way back in a corner, there was part of the fence covered in growing vines. I ran toward it, not knowing why. When I reached it, I could see that it was really a gaping hole in the fence, draped with vines.

I scuttled through, thinking I was safe, not realizing there was another fence enclosing that one. Thinking I would surely be shot this time, I began to climb the outer fence, praying for another miracle.

I made it over and down to the ground, wondering why I hadn't been killed. As I turned to look back, I could see the men leading Sally back toward the street.

Eventually I doubled back toward Bob and Sally's house. The police had arrived and everything was blocked off. The gunmen had taken Sally back into the house and were in a stand off with the police.

For some reason, I was sent into the house to spy. I snuck in and overheard the ex-husband telling his sons to load their guns with the bullets that would penetrate bulletproof vests. (The ex-husband called the bullets a name I can't remember but when he said it in my dream, I knew exactly what he meant.)

I ran back out to the police crying, repeating what the man had said. One officer reassured me that everything would be okay and not to worry. I was incredulous, thinking the three men inside would  massacre the officers and then come for me.

It was too much for me even in a dream. My anxiety escalated to "terror" and I woke up with my heart racing.

I wanted to turn my light on in my bedroom but the dream had frightened me to the point of irrationality. I felt that turning my light on could attract the attention of some bad armed person who just happened to be walking near, just as I was turning my light on.

I was afraid to go back to sleep for fear of slipping back into the same dream (something that had happened to me once before; an awful occurrence!) so I got up and sat on the floor and prayed for a while.

Eventually I exited my room, being careful not to turn on any lights. I sat in my dark living room with my laptop, listening to soothing music, waiting for daylight. It arrived slowly, with overcast skies and not a ray of sunshine.

I took my morning walk an hour earlier than usual. It helped some but I know I'll need a lot more prayer, meditation, and perhaps a few sessions with the grief counselor who helped me deal with Mr. Bliss's death these past three years.

Despite this momentary return to the realm of F.E.A.R., I maintain a sense of gratitude for my life.

My child is healthy, I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a car to drive, I'm debt-free... I have much to be thankful for.

Amen.


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