Once more, the voice calls out, "Mom."
An invisible puppeteer moves unseen ropes, firmly connected to her body and forcefully pulls her up and around. Like a marionette, unable to know where it is being taken, she obeys the Master Puppeteer. Heavy legs are led forward, in the dark, thick, piercing dark and into the beam of light where the door opens into the waiting eyes of her son waiting, "Mom is here."
Shaking off the shadows of dreamland and blinking eyes to focus on the reality before her, "mom" looks around to assess what is happening and why she is here.
The child on the bed is in need of comfort. Bad dreams like a thief in the night have come. A nightmare, a visitation of darkness and fear walked in and screamed into the child's inner peace and attacked the serenity of childhood delights during night time.
The puppeteer releases the ropes,breathes into her and disappears. Sleepy and heavy with tiredness, she takes a deep breath and fully awakens. Her child knows what to expect when mom enters to face the nightmares. "Get ready to run, monsters, mom's in the house!"
Light, unseen in the natural, translucent and bright begin to take form like thousands of sparkling diamonds in mid air. The shine turns into armor, still unseen to those not trained as mothers are, and as mom peers into her son's confident eyes, the armor swirls around her in uncontrolled speed and dresses mom for battle.
Confident and ready, mom draws her sword and looks around the room. The nightmares and shapeless shadows in dreamland must surely still be present. The bedroom is cold and chills caress her bare feet. A penetrable heaviness pounds upon her chest attempting to pierce her heart and her spirit with fear.
Mom, the warrior, turns slightly and sees the uninvited guests sprawled upon the upper right corner of the wall and another, sitting menacingly near the blue bean bag near the bookcase.
She readies to speak, for she will say it only once, clearing her throat and filling her mind with the Name of the One that created her armor. "Foul spirit and shadows that dare appear to bring fear and torment at this time of the night, you have no authority to be here." The images grow grotesquely and begin to laugh hysterically, challenging mom to a debate of words. Mom will not entertain their debate. She draws her sword and runs towards the one sitting near the blue bean bag. Swiftly swinging her sword and commanding it to leave in the name of her God, El Shaddai, she strikes it down.
As the other one climbs higher upon the wall, she climbs on top of the boxes holding legos, and plunges her sword upward. Reminding all the host of darkness this bedroom belongs to the Mighty One, she keeps the Sword upon the shadow and begins to sing a battle song, a declaration of God's Reign and Victory over her son. As the form falls in defeat, she returns to battle ready stance, just in case.
Darkness and every assigned nightmare dissipate like grey mist leaving only a stench like wet sneakers left out in the rain. Mom continues the song, a lullaby caressing her son back to slumber. Her armor slowly disappears, leaving only the glittery reminder of the Light and Power that protected her. She looks around, feeling something powerful and beautiful and sees the back of angel wings leaving her son's bedroom and entering the living room.
Refreshed by the victory over darkness, mom kisses her son who has peacefully returned to blessed sleep and walks into the living room. Countless angels fill the room, moving ever so quickly in circles, around and around in the space, creating a hedge of protection and promising to watch over her home and her family as they sleep.
With a heart full of gratefulness, mom walks through each bedroom until she is entering her own. The tiny sparks of a sun soon rising push through the window blinds. She looks at her cell phone and sees she still has two hours to rest.
"Thank you, Lord, for another victory over the darkness." She lays her head on her pillow and realizes something heavy by her waist. A sword. The armor was gone but the sword had remained. "Oh yes, Lord, you want me to be ready for the next battle." Yawning and covering herself with her blanket she smiles, "Bring it on."
Fiction, fantasy or forever a dream,
you decide what this was.
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