Spiritual Warrior

I’m like a spiritual warrior or shaman or something. Maybe a medicine woman. I’m not even sure. 

But in each dream I’m walking down a path. 

I’m robed in flesh color linens. I have a linen satchel in a deeper fleshy tone. It’s over my shoulder and I’m very aware of it’s presence. 

It’s everything.

Every tear, sorrow and suffering.  

I keep walking till I am face to face with Jesus.

Yes that’s right. Jesus Christ. 

[I’m not sure how true it is... but I’ve always heard that when a person speaks to you in your dream - then you are dreaming. If the person does not speak, then it’s a visitation?]

Either way. Jesus looks at me and says nothing. 

Still, I know that He wants me to open my satchel.

I am so ready for this sacred moment. I am ready to release all that is hidden within.

But it’s empty.

I wanted Him to know my pain, my suffering, my collection of woes. 

It was all gone. All of it.

But in His gaze I realized they were never there.

It didn’t make the sorrow disappear. It just changed it. 

It changed me. 

I can never own nor carry sorrow. 

He lifts it every time. 

So I wrap up my satchel. 

And I just keep walking. 

Cause it’s the next right step. 

And that’s all I know. 

Amen.