I pray often that the Lord would come to me in my dreams. Partly because I dream so often and would rather Him take over that time than other things, and partly because I read so much about the Lord communicating with people in their dreams or visions in Bible times. I do know that to be a promise that comes with the out-pouring of the Holy Spirit and don't want to miss anything there is to be had. That being said, I do not know if this dream I had was from the Lord or even if it served some spiritual purpose, all I know is how very real it felt toward the end and how I found myself not wanting to "wake up."
I dreamed that Samuel and I were at the hospital with Grandaddy as he was having open-heart surgery. There was no expectation that anything would go wrong, but suddenly he passed away during the operation. We brought little Colleen into the room to say goodbye almost as if it were her Daddy and I remember vaguely thinking that this was odd. Then, suddenly Grandaddy began to breath and his heart was pumping again. In shock, the doctors rushed him back into surgery and we went to the waiting room to tell my family what had just miraculously happened.
The scene completely shifted at this point and I was taking some old friends from High School to see a college apartment they might like to rent the following semester. As we walked and neared the apartment I realized that there was a large group of us and Samuel was at the front. We were all wearing matching T-shirts as if we were in a fraternity together, and I soon remembered that the apartment we were going to was having a birthday celebration for one of the residence. We filed in while loudly singing "Happy Birthday" with Samuel leading the whole thing. Most of us went to the back of the room as it was full of people, but I saw Samuel sitting on a bench near the front and next to him was Grandaddy.
Grandaddy looked young, maybe early to mid 40s, and he was so healthy and strong. He was always a big man but in my dream he was particularly strong, robust, and youthful. He wore blue jeans and a plaid short-sleeve collared shirt much like the ones I remember him wearing to church, and his hair was dark and combed over to the side neatly. The most notable thing about him was how he almost radiated with joy. I couldn't help but notice how fixated he was on Samuel, smiling and laughing loudly at every silly thing Samuel did to entertain the room. He was practically glowing with pleasure as he watched his son.
Still "in the dream" I found myself thinking, "There is Mr. Kirkland and, Wow!, he looks great after surgery." I went to him and kneeled down to hug him and the moment I did, there was a very clear awareness that this was not as it seemed. Grandaddy did not have heart surgery, he was dead, but here he was. He hugged me so tight as he always did and laughed merrily as I began to cry and take in the reality of his presence. The more I cried, the more he laughed. A moment later I heard Samuel say, "Look at Hannah, enjoying Daddy!" He laughed as did Grandaddy and I felt the dream begin to fade and woke up next to Samuel feeling a great loss and wanting to quickly go back to sleep. It was wonderful and sweet and personal. And I will never forget it as long as I live. Whether it was a dream, vision, or spiritual encounter, I do not know, but I cannot help but feel that for a moment I beheld Grandaddy as he is now, in the fullness of joy and pleasure that comes only from being in the presence of Christ.
