Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Deliverance from My Worst Nightmare

The ground shakes, as the train roars above me. I am laying underneath a freight train, scared to death. My heart is pounding, and I know that I am dying. But suddenly, somehow, through the train, I see my dad pull up in his blue van. The van in which the Pepsi cans froze one winter, and then exploded--leaving brown spots all over the interior. I see my dad sprint towards me, and I know that he will save me.

"Kelly, Kelly, it's okay. It's okay." I hear a voice speaking softly, and I feel a hand stroking my hair. My eyes flutter open, and I see grass. Exhausted, I close my eyes again. I wonder why I am sleeping on grass. Didn't I go to sleep in my bed? Wait a minute, did I ever go to bed? Why am I wet and wrapped in a towel? My eyes open again, for an instant, and I see some of my friends running around. The soft voice is still assuring me that I am okay. The voice's hands are still stroking my hair. I am scared, but I feel some comfort. This is the weirdest dream I have ever had.

I open my eyes once more. Reality hits me. I am not dreaming. I am laying in a real yard, actually wet, really wrapped in a towel. I am cold; I see snow on the ground. My head aches, and I cannot understand what is happening. Terror consumes my body. The terror of the unknown, confusion, loneliness. I am wracked with fear, because I do not know what is real, and I cannot comprehend anything. I see some of my friends: Jess, Mo, Mike, and Alan. I see my brother and my father. I realize that Jessie's mom, Sue, is holding my head, speaking those soft, comforting words to me. I look around, terribly confused. I literally have no idea how I ended up in this situation.

"Kelly, it's okay. You had a seizure. You're okay, just relax." I had a seizure? Doesn't that mean there is something wrong with my brain? Do I have a tumor? Cancer? Will I die?

My eighth grade year, in November, I had a grand-mal seizure in my best friend's hot tub. From what they have told me, I made some odd movements, and then slid underwater. Fortunately, my friend, Alan, pulled me out of the water. Apparently, I was unconscious for about five long minutes. I can't remember a thing. All I know is that I had a dream of being run over by a train, and I woke up in Jessie's yard. A couple weeks later, I have another one in Mr. Hess's social studies class. I feel the exact same feelings. Except this time, when I came to consciousness, and I realize I what happened, I scream "No!!!" At least, I did in my head. I cried. I was put on medication this time, and I stayed on the medication until June before my senior year. I had been seizure-free the whole time, so my neurologist decided to take me off of the medication. I was stoked! They never did figure out why I had the seizures, which bothers me still, but the important thing was, I had been seizure free since I had the second one.

I was off the medicine, and still seizure-free, until June 2008. I was getting ready for my second day of work at Pet Supplies Plus. I woke up on the floor of my bathroom. I heard the radio, but again, I thought I was dreaming. Although, I did find it odd that I was sleeping in my bathroom. My eyes opened and closed a few times, then I realized I wasn't dreaming. It happened. I stood up, trembling and unable to think logically. My first thought was that I was late for work, so I hurredly began drying my hair, but then I stopped, because I realized I couldn't go to work if I had a seizure. But did I have a seizure? Maybe I just overslept. But that couldn't have happened, because I was on the bathroom floor. Well, maybe I am making up the "seizure," because I really did oversleep, and I needed an excuse of why I was late. I began drying my hair again. A few seconds later, I stopped. My thoughts were jumbled, and I was extremely disoriented. I had overslept; I didn't really wake up on the bathroom floor--I am just making that up. I turn on the dryer, but then I look down at the floor. Blood. I look in the mirror, and I see scratches on my face--bleeding. I look at my hands--scratched and bleeding. Suddenly, I realize my body is very sore.

I put the pieces together: blood, scratches, aching body, disorientation, bruises...I have felt this all before--when I had seizures. I begin to cry, and I call my mom. I frantically explain that I'm late for work, but I think I had a seizure; I woke up on the ground, and I am not really sure what is happening. She comes home right away, and a good friend rushes us to the hospital.

Suffice it to say, doctors still do not know what causes these seizures, but I am medicated once more--possibly for the rest of my life, according to my neurologist.

What's my point? I don't really have one. I just can't sleep right now, and it is because I keep imagining the times I wake up from the seizures. They are horrific memories to me. I cannot explain the fear and terror I feel when coming back to consciousness after having an "episode." I have certainly learned some lessons from having them, but they still make me shudder and shake with fear. The worst thing about them is that I cannot feel them approaching. So, at any moment, I know I am at risk of waking up on the ground...and feeling the exact same things I felt the other times. I am especially scared of the "train dream." I had it for the first two, but not the third. Many times, I live my day in fear of blacking out and waking up, completely confused. These are my nightmares, because every time I have them, I believe I am dreaming, only to awaken and realize the reality of the situation.

Again, I do not really have a point, but while writing this, I have made a correlation between a certain part of the "train dream" and my faith. While being run over by the train, I see my daddy come; he comes to rescue me. And I know without a doubt, that he will be successful in saving me.

I'm sure you can guess where I am headed with this. Not to be cliche, but in life, I experience many "trains." The "trains" in my life, are my struggles, my trials, my bad days, my pains, my fears, my hindrances, my failures, etc. But just like my earthly dad rescued me from the literal train in my dream, my Heavenly Father will rescue me from the metaphorical trains in my life.

He will rescue me from this blindness I feel about my future; He will rescue me from my fear of the unknown; He will rescue me from my pain, from my loneliness, from my sadness, from my aching heart, from all of it. He will rescue me from the swift and windy and angry currents caused by the roaring, rushing, rumbling train overhead. He will calm my screams into weeping into breathing--softly whispering, "It's okay, Kelly. It's okay, daughter." He will stroke my hair until my trembling ceases. And once again, he has rescued me.

How can I ever believe my God will not save me when I am in distress, when I cry out, when I feel lost? Maybe I won't feel him at first, but he often moves quietly in my life. I have always been utterly terrified of that "train dream." But now, now I see meaning. Now I see the way my Lord saves me. Now I see the purpose of my father and my Father. My Heavenly Father came to rescue me for all time. And he sent my earthly father to be a wonderful example of my Heavenly Father's role in my life. He sent me a beautiful example, and when that example, that wonderful man, my amazing father, was taken from me--serving to be my greatest trial of all so far, my Heavenly Father reminded me that he has rescued me, and he will always rescue me.

Terror, horror, fear, these things are all temporary, and they are all defeatable. There is salvation from all of them. Maybe there isn't anything wrong with my brain. Maybe I only had these seizures to illustrate the salvation of my Lord. Maybe it's both. Either way, God worked through my "episodes" and he rescued me from my great fear. He delivered me from the most real nightmare I have ever experienced.