The dream

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.'  Jeremiah 29:11-12 NIV

And life continued for everyone around me.  It didn't stop because I wanted it to.  I wondered when I would feel like laughing again.  I wondered if anyone had hurt the way that I was.  I wondered when I would cry that last tear over my loss, and then I realized I never would.

God was there the moment I was told my baby wasn't alive.  Right beside me feeling my desperate need to change what was already truth.  He knew before I did what was to come, and he allowed it to happen.

I had a little promise box in my room that was filled with small cards containing scripture on one side and quotes on the other.  One day I stood there holding it and prayed that God would speak to me.  The card I chose read, "The Lord is close to those with a broken heart, and saves those whose spirit has been crushed." (Psalm 34:18)  God, my comforter, spoke to me through words that had been written thousands of years ago.  Those words were my thread of hope.

A few weeks after my baby was named, I had a dream.  I was in my apartment and a glowing little girl with beautiful blond hair and blue eyes appeared.  She was dressed in a long white gown.  I asked her what her name was, and she told me Thia.  I understood that she was an angel, and I asked her why she had come.  She told me that I was to have a baby next year, and she wrote the date August 18th on a fogged up mirror with her finger.  I felt honored that God would send an angel to tell me of the coming birth of my child so I asked her what I should name the baby boy.  She told me I could name him whatever I wanted.

When I woke from my dream I went into the dining room to look for the baby name book I had borrowed from the library.  I quickly flipped through it to find the angel's name.  There it was.  A name that I had only heard of in my dream.  Thia an alternate form of Mathia meaning God's gift.  Overwhelmed with the emotions of my loss and the possibilities of my dream, I wept.

I held the dream close to me, and told very few people.  While I didn't expect God to fulfill the promise of the dream, a part of me had faith that it would happen.  I wanted to believe that he would bless me with another child.  He had given me hope for the future through a dream that introduced me to the one who was not born.

The following August found me pregnant with a little boy who was due mid-month.  By the 18th I was three days overdue and fully expecting my baby to make his promised appearance. The 19th arrived and I was still pregnant. Timothy Isaiah Mohr finally screamed his way into the world on August 22nd.  I can't say that he is any less of a miracle because he didn't come on the predicted day, because the truth is, I'm just glad he's here.