Dreaming of Angels

     A full moon.

     A sprinkle of stars on a dark blanket of sky.

     I could only see it because of the clearing.

     The break in the tree’s canopy.

     I sat there helpless as always.

     Then the howling.

     It grew closer.

     And closer.

     And closer.

     Until it stopped.

     Deafening silence.

     Growling.

     Eyes in the darkness.

     Yellow and terrifying.

     An icy shiver ran up my back.

     I could do nothing.

     I was nothing.

     Then the creatures pounced.

     I still sat there helpless, trembling in the cold.

     Closing my eyes, I prayed three words; God, help me.

     A blinding light flung my eyes open.

     No.

     Not just light.

     Warm.

     Pure.

     Raw.

     Eternal brightness.

     Like lightning.

     Like snow.

     Like the sun.

     Like glass.

     Like fire.

     Like clouds.

     Like all the colors of the spectrum.

     There was no darkness any longer.

     The splendor was breathtaking.

     Then it was gone.

     But not completely.

     The wolves had vanished.

     The darkness had fled.

     The moon was dull.

     The stars weren’t visible.

     But a woman.

     A woman only described as perfect.

     Pale, glowing skin.

     Golden, mellow eyes.

     Silky, flowing hair.

     Gorgeous.

     Unnatural.

     Inhuman.

     An angel.

     Radiating a soft light.

     Only a fraction of before.

     But still enough.

     The woman was protection.

     Guidance.

     Love.

     A promise.

     Everything I ever wanted.

     Needed.

     Could have ever dreamed of . . .

     ~

     Alyssa woke up with a start, breathing hard.

     A quick glance at her clock told her it was 3:51 in the morning.

     She groaned into her pillow, but turned on her lamp anyway. 

     She was up and there wasn’t any chance she was falling back to sleep. So she’d better make the most of it.

     Scrambling to her desk chair she dragged her covers with her. Open to the 28th chapter of Matthew, was her Bible. She had glued to the same passage for days now.

     It was the one where an angel had appeared to Mary and Mary Magdalene at the tomb of Jesus after rolling the stone away. He came to give the message that Jesus had risen and to tell his disciples. But one verse had stuck out to Alyssa like light in the darkness.

     The verse read;

His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow.

     ~

     The woman in front of her opened her mouth to speak.

     Her voice was that of an angel.

     It was soft, yet thunderous.

     Melodious.

     Strong, but mellow.

     “Do not be afraid, Child of God.

     I have been sent to protect you.

     To guide you.

     To give love.

     And to send a message.”

     Truth and promise.

     Both woven into her words.

     I was so hopeful . . .

     ~

     Alyssa woke again, her face pressed gently against her Bible.

     The clock told her it was 5:42 am.

     She marveled at how she fell asleep. And her dream . . .

     She peeked through her curtains at the window. Noting that the sun would be up soon, she threw a sweatshirt over her t-shirt and clipped her blonde hair up in a loose bun. Quietly, Alyssa snuck out of her room and, grabbing a donut on her way through the kitchen, slipped out to the back patio.

     Orange spilled over the horizon. Then the sun arose. There was no trace of what had felt like an endless night.

     She prayed and wondered for hours. Wondering what the dreams meant.

     Eventually her mom came to sit beside her, watching as the sun struggled to climb higher and higher into the sky.

     “Couldn’t sleep?” Her voice cut through the peaceful silence, but Alyssa was grateful.

     “Yeah.”

     “Same dream?”

     Alyssa just nodded.

     “I wanted to talk to you about that actually,” her mom took three deep breaths—one for patience, one for grace, and one for love. Alyssa tensed, knowing this wouldn’t be a fun conversation. “I don’t really know how to say this. Um, those dreams . . . They’re real. You—” She took another three breaths. “What I’m trying to say is . . . Those aren't dreams . . . They’re memories—your memories.”

     It was quiet for a long time.

     Alyssa didn’t really know what to say. Or feel.

     She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t even surprised. God had prepared her—told her. Alyssa had known.

     “Why me?” It was barely a whisper.

     Mom looked a little startled by the question. “What do you mean?”

     “I mean, out of everyone God could have told you to protect, guide, and love . . . Why me?” Alyssa looked at her mom. She had known she was adopted, just not by an angel.

     “Because God knew you were the one. And He was so right. He always is. You just have to trust him.”

     “I do trust Him, and if I didn’t before, I do now.” Alyssa felt something tingle her cheek. She reached to wipe it away, realizing it was wet. She was crying.

     “Thank you,” Alyssa got up and they embraced.

     Alyssa was the luckiest girl in the world.

     “Why don’t you try to rest a bit more? I’ll get some food ready for lunch.”

     “Mom?”

     “Yes, Alyssa?”

     “Can you sing to me? I think it will help me sleep.” Alyssa looked into her mother’s golden-brown eyes.

     She smiled. “Of course.”

     Nothing could prepare Alyssa for the beauty that was her mother’s song.

     It was euphonious.

     Mellifluous.

     Dulcet.

     Harmonious.

     Melodic.

     It guided her into another dream.

     ~

     I looked up at the elegant figure in front of me.

     I ran.

     Towards, not away.

     I was little.

     I was hopeful.

     I hugged the angel’s dress where I knew her leg was.

     She leaned down and hugged me back.

     Full of power.

     Full of love.

     Full of hope.

     “God loves you,” she said.

     “I know,” said my squeaky little voice. “God loves you too.”

     She laughed.

     It was refreshing.

     Like cool rain after playing on a hot summer day.

     “Would you like to live with me?”

     I was confused. “Where?”

     “In my new house,” she replied.

     I nodded, considering. “What would I call you?”

     “You can call me ‘Mom’.”

     My eyes got big.

     I whispered. “You will be my Mom?”

     “Of course,” said Mom.