The Woman I Dreamed About

There is something divine about walking through your home, thanking God aloud for the contentment you once only imagined.

This instance symbolizes the culmination of one journey while simultaneously drawing a line in the sand, ushering you into the next one.

I’ll keep this personal. That is what it felt like as I danced around my kitchen at barely 6 a.m. The manifestation of a woman I dreamed about, wrote about, and considered when making decisions even before she arrived. I was suddenly the woman from the meme, thanking past me for moving intentionally. It felt lighter and calmer, a gentler start to the day. That mindfulness, however, came with a kind reminder: we are just getting started.

One of the many realizations on my healing journey is understanding what God means when He says He will “redeem the years and time.” The word “redeem” in English has a few meanings, but in the context of Joel 2, God does mean restore. I have spent a lot of time thinking about what I missed out on in my seasons of spiritual devastation. Those times where I didn’t know what I didn’t know, and what I did know, I lacked the discipline to do. But I am learning what it means to forgive myself for not knowing then what I do now.

And it’s because of that forgiveness, I am able to continue to dream. I believe it was Tina Snow who said, “You think I’m sexy now, this ain’t even my final form.” My most recent valley season felt like an eternity of days not being able to see through the fog of doubt, fear, and depression. Now I feel like I am slowly climbing back to one of life’s many peaks, and on this journey I find myself dreaming again of a woman. But now I can grow with experience, strategies, and knowledge I didn’t have before. Not because I am dissatisfied with my current form. I am not. A healed perspective comes with permission to enjoy life’s duality:

I can enjoy slower, intentional morning rituals before work, while I ponder what life would look like if I no longer needed to work a traditional job.

I can curate the pieces to make my apartment my home, while I weigh the options and financially prepare for purchasing a house.

I can heal my relational wounds, including learning to trust myself, while nurturing friendships and leaving room to be continually chosen by the right partner.

And there will be more. More peaks and valleys. That is the reality of life. However, that reality coexists with the one where, on a bright Friday morning before work, I get to dance around my kitchen, sipping warm coffee and witnessing the impact of my quiet, internal work.