April 26, 2015, by Todd Neva
I used to fly. If I thought too hard about it, I’d drop to the ground. I simply had to believe I could fly, and I would. It was so real I would wake up wondering if I was asleep and dreaming I could only walk.
God uses dreams. He gave Joseph dreams of his future. He gave Pharaoh dreams, which Joseph translated to help the people of Egypt and Israel. God gave dreams to Daniel. God once gave me a dream that I died. I wrote about it in Heavy:
Weeks after the diagnosis, I was most afraid at night lying in bed, feeling the explosions inside my body, fasciculations popping. Twitching in my legs. Twitching in my back, pectoral muscles, everywhere. The twitching made me acutely aware of this war inside me—a fierce battle that will eventually die out leaving a spent shell of skin and bones.
One night, after I drifted off to sleep, I dreamed I was at home with Kristin and the kids. “Do you want to come up to Daddy?” I asked Isaac. I couldn’t lift him. I couldn’t even move my arms. I dreamed I was in a wheelchair. My speech was slurred. I couldn’t swallow. I had a feeding tube. Then, I dreamed I was paralyzed. I could only look around and blink. I couldn’t breathe. I suffocated. Then, I died.
The dream was not a nightmare; I was not scared. Rather, I sensed it was a gift from God to deliver me, to liberate me from the fear of the future. I woke early the next morning well rested and free. I have nothing left to fear that I have not already faced. I had to lose my life before I could live.
I’ve moved on, and my dreams now serve to entertain me and give me freedom.
I can walk. If I think too hard about it, I drop to the ground. I simply have to believe I can walk, and I do. It is so real I wake up wondering if I’m asleep and dreaming I can only lie in bed.