We Shall All Walk Again

I just woke up from an intensely powerful dream that has me thinking about heaven.

In the dream, I was standing on a curb in a big parking lot, holding a baby girl. She wasn't mine; she belonged to Mary, a friend who has four older children, but no baby. I was waiting for my parents and Stephen to pick us up. They approached slowly in a sage green Mercedes. Daddy and Stephen were in the back seat, Mama in the front passenger's seat. The driver's seat was empty as if I was supposed to hop in and take the wheel. So I stepped in front of the creeping car, walked around the side, and was reaching for the door handle just as a another car zoomed up from behind and rammed into it.

I lost my footing, but clung to the baby. I remember falling onto my back ever so lightly, as if cradled myself. With my right arm I clutched the baby girl to my chest, but my left one was still out, and the green car's wheel ran over my hand. It should've hurt, but didn't. Nothing hurt. I was conscious and only wondered if my family was hurt.

I got up, looked into the car, and despite the fact that the back seat had been dislodged, everyone appeared fine. We huddled together and someone handed me a phone.

"Call your pastor," my mom said.
"I don't know who my pastor is!" I cried, with sudden amnesia.
"Then call anyone who cares and will come to us," Stephen said.
The only person I could think of was Sharon Lilley.
I dialed a bunch of random numbers and Sharon answered. Before long, all of us were being airlifted to various hospitals.

Time passed. I don't know how long, but I was flat on my back. My mind was working just fine, but my mouth couldn't make the words come out clearly.

My mom came to visit and said everyone was okay. "Me?" I muttered. "Wah?"

My mom said, "Will you walk again? Probably not, honey.The doctors say you won't be able to stand again, either."
I wasn't prepared for that. I felt fine, even though--now that she mentioned it--I couldn't wiggle my legs.
"Whu?" I stammered. "No!"
"You broke your spine, Zo, when you fell. Right here." She drew a line with her finger across my ribcage.
"But it didn't hurt!" I managed to slur.
"I know, honey, that was God's protection."
"Bay....bee?" I asked, suddenly remembering the baby girl who had been my responsibility to protect.
"She's fine. She is absolutely fine at home with Mary."

I was on a moving bed, but it wasn't a traditional guerney. It was hooked to a wall in the hospital corridor, on one of those indoor moving sidewalks like they have at airports. Beds were being moved that way in this dream, so that nurses could transport patients at the click of a button .

We arrived at a large room called a cafeteria. Wheelchairs lined up with patients in row after row, waiting to be fed. Just three people available to feed about 50 souls.
My mom transferred me to a wheelchair. I read the poster tacked to a pole near the kitchen. It had signatures of people who had visited that week and who they had come to see. There were only seven names on the list. This was my mom's first visit so her name wasn't there yet. I cried.

"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Name!" I pointed clumsily with my half-working right fist. Mama seemed to be able to fill in the blanks.
"There aren't enough names on there, right? I agree. Well, after I feed you, I'm going to visit everyone here personally, okay?"
I nodded. Mama's tender heart never seemed to run out of love for the suffering.

She positioned herself to lift and transfer me to my waiting wheelchair. But this time, instead of telling me, "Sit down now," she said, "Stand here a minute while I make sure these wheels are locked."

Then I felt a power surge from God fill my back and my legs. They weren't strong, but they held me up. I stood there, wobbled just a tad, then straightened .

"I'm standing, Mama!" I exclaimed with full clarity. "I'm standing!"
"You sure are!" she said, eyes beaming.
I extended my arms outward, palms up. I took one step. Then another.
By this time, I had everyone's attention.
"Look, Gracie," my mom said to one of the cafeteria nurses. "Zoanna's walking!"
"Well, would you look at that!" Gracie said, nearly dropping a plate.

I surveyed the room and proclaimed, "Everyone, I am standing! I am walking!"
The ones who could clap, clapped. Some smiled. Others sat there, mouths agape.

I extended my arms out to my sides, like a worship leader. "Let's all stand," I said.

I waited. They looked at me like I had mental problems.
"Seriously, what are you guys waiting for? Stand with me!"

Then, I beheld a miracle: I saw them, one by one, use weak arms to push themselves up out of their wheelchairs. They stood, grinning from ear to ear. Nurses were dumbfounded.

"I'm standing!" cried a woman in a blue coat.
"Me too!" cried a man in a bathrobe.
"Let's walk!" I said, "Let's all walk."

Step by step, we walked around the cafeteria, hugging, laughing, weeping, telling the nurses to put those dishes away, we could feed ourselves.

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The dream ended. I woke up, praising God. This dream filled me with hope. Doctors may say "Impossible!" but God is capable of miracles.

It also filled me anew with compassion for the handicapped. Not just the ones confined to beds and wheelchairs, but who are paralyzed by their own spiritual ignorance. They are waiting for the Lord to say, "Walk!" and then they'll walk. Meanwhile, there aren't nearly enough names on the "I Care" poster of people's lives. I want to sign my name today. I want to extend my arms in heaven and look around and behold all the miracles God has wrought. And I'll get to see my baby girl, too. The one I got to carry before she was born, but who God spared from harm on this earth.

We shall all walk again!