To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...

I have spent much time sleeping lately (more from necessity than mere laziness), and my dreams have been especially vivid. Even when I don't fully remember them I still feel the emotional residue when I wake up. This past week I almost sat up in terror after dreaming about driving my minivan up a highway exit which suddenly left me speeding on a huge mountain of gravel along the extreme edge of a cliff. The terror of realizing that any second I could slide off hundreds of feet -- with my children in the car -- was still palpable when I woke up seconds later. As usual, the dream didn't resolve, leaving me to plot and re-plot my strategy for escaping from an event that never took place.

About a month ago, I dreamed that I was about to be executed by a shot to the forehead, and that Darwin was somehow forced to be the executioner. I was kneeling on the ground, with my eyes closed,  with the terror of someone who was about to die, and yet knowing that in a moment I was going to see God. And I prayed and prayed, and my terror was, not replaced, but overlaid with anticipation. I was going to die. I was going to see God -- now, almost immediately. I said "Jesus" to myself, and felt the cold gun against my forehead, and waited. And waited...

Darwin never did kill me. I woke up before the shot was fired. And I was filled, not with relief, but with disappointment. I had been so ready to die! My soul was prepared, I was resigned, heaven had been so close... Though I'm relieved that my husband didn't shoot me in the head, I do wonder what would have happened in the dream if I'd stayed asleep just a few seconds longer. But then, dreams don't seem to provide conclusions, only hypotheticals.