Because it’s Valentine’s Day, prepare to have your socks knocked off by what you’re about to read.
Early in 2006, I learned that the guy I was on-again-off-again with was actually seeing someone consistently while stringing me along.
Hurt and exhausted from years of dysfunction, betrayals, and immaturity with this same guy, I dropped all communication with him. Which was very difficult for me at the time—he and I had been best friends and had dated for about five years.
After we cut ties, I had a lot of emotional healing to do. I knew I couldn’t do it alone, so I leaned into God more ardently than I’d done before. I asked Him for strengths, insights, wisdom, miracles, and healing that I’d never asked of Him—in a way, this breakup grew me to the deepest point in a relationship with Christ that I’d had thus far. For that, I’m thankful.
One evening as I sat on the side of my bed, crying and praying and pleading for healing or reconciliation or God’s will to be done, I boldly asked God for a dream. I don’t know where the idea came from; maybe I’d never been this desperate for an answer before. But I asked earnestly: Father, give me a dream that will make all of this clear. I need to see that everything is going to be okay. That I’m going to be okay.
I’d allowed myself to get wrecked over the ending of this relationship, and the recovery was a lot for me to handle at the time—I was learning that the guy I thought was “the one,” wasn’t actually anyone to me.
For two or three weeks, I consistently included the request of a vision or a dream of my future in my prayers.
And one night, God said, “Yes.”
As I slept, I started dreaming, and a feeling or thought occurred that instructed me to pay attention.
The dream started out with me arriving home from work in my then apartment. As I went through the apartment, into my bedroom, headed for the closet to kick off my shoes and put my backpack down, I saw a young man—who seemed familiar, someone from my past—sitting on the side of my bed. Around him were boxes, or presents, wrapped in bright paper, all the same size, all tied with contrasting bright ribbon—think bright fuchsia with bright blue bows. The boxes were in neat rows across the bed in front of the man, beside him and behind him. I felt overwhelmed. I knew they were all for me.
Though I saw him, I kept walking to my closet, put my computer case and purse down, then turned to face him and asked: “Why are you here?” He stood up, facing me, and said, “I’ve been waiting for you.” He then reached forward and hugged me.
I was reluctant to wrap my arms around him, but I sensed that I was relaxing in his embrace as he held me.
That’s when the dream ended, and I began to gain consciousness. And like I sometimes do even now, I tried to stay asleep and finish out this dream that made me feel so good, so wanted, so loved.
At work the next day, I told a coworker about the dream and about how I sensed that I knew this man. Having an interest in dream interpretation, she was fascinated and shared some of her ideas about what it all could mean. Before leaving my office, she turned to me, smiled and said, “Whatever the dream means, you need to figure out who that man is.”
All day, I tried to think of the name of the man in my dream. I knew him; he was familiar. . . .
His name was Nathan.
As soon as his name came to mind, I went to tell my coworker. His name is Nathan. I knew him in Douglasville. I went to school with his cousins. I had a crush on him even then! We pulled up an extra chair beside her computer and starting searching for any details we could find about a Nathan in Douglasville. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember his last name.
Finding no results on our initial search, I returned home that afternoon and wrote down the dream and all the details about Nathan I could think of.
Having no luck in finding out Nathan’s last name or even his whereabouts, I slipped back into mourning and pining after the guy I’d just called it quits with. And eventually, I got wrapped up into other things and I put the dream on a shelf.
Unfortunately, my experience with the heartbreaker guy wasn’t over and I put myself back on his string, off and on, for almost another two years.
But I thought about the dream sometimes. And sometimes I searched the Internet for a Nathan in Douglasville.
Then, in early 2008, I remembered his last name . . . Wilder.
For now, this is where I’ll leave you. There’s more to our story.
Maybe you think that I’m crazy or that I’ve made up this entire thing. But I promise you, I haven’t. God was, and still is, good to me. He answered when I called. He changed me; He turned me from the wrong path. He has and is and will fulfill every promise He’s made to me. I stand in awe that He gave me a dream of my wonderful future. The future that I’m living right now.
Read our story from the beginning:
how we met
a dream about my husband
between the dream and dating
meeting my husband again
we tried to date but didn’t
a year of silence
how we became friends again
we started dating . . . for real this time
we got married!
©2014 Jennifer Wilder. All rights reserved. For permission to reprint or publish this content elsewhere, please contact me through this blog.