Falling

I had a dream about Alaska for the third time the other night. My best friend from high school was in this one. We were driving there in a 15 seat van with a trailer. My friend was driving and, true to form, he was driving too fast. This always irritated me but in the dream I was getting terrified because the road was built on a high cliff. We came around a corner and the outside tires started to slide off the sharp edge of the road. I gave him a look that said, "Why aren't you being careful? Why do you always show off? You're scaring the crap out of me, you jerk!" (looks can say all that in my dreams.) By then it was too late, we were falling. All in one moment I nearly exploded from anticipation, yet resigned to death. I grabbed my friends hand, squeezed hard and said,"I love you." He didn't squeeze back. We just kept falling but we never hit the didn't ever hit. Then I decided to wake. That moment in that van was so near to heaven. I was ready. I knew it would be painless. It was terrifying and joyous all at the same second. It was possibly the most real I have ever felt.

All the dreams I've had about Alaska have been morose. There is a fearful essence to the place I remember. I don't know what it means, but I know it means something. The emotion of those dreams has to mean something.

Today I failed again. I succumbed to lust and acted on it. The hardest thing to do right now is hope. Six months ago it seemed like I had so much hope and love just flowing out me. Now I can barely move my fingers to type. I am so defeated by myself. I just want to dive bomb into full on relapse. I want to give up. I need rescue so badly. What could this all mean? I want badly to wallow in self pity right now, but as I write I feel a small light growing in me. I think it's just enough to say the words, "God is in control." I want to go on sinning. I pray that God will rescue me from myself. That's all I can muster.