My husband and I were snuggling on our bed with a toddler boy who was not our son, but who we were raising. I realized/said I hadn’t been loving the boy as my own son, but I had been treating him like a stepchild, then I realized that wasn’t fair to stepchildren so I said second class citizen. I said I didn’t even know if he could walk or talk, if he could eat solid foods, etc. and I didn’t know how old he was. I was told he was 15 months. I went to the refrigerator to get a bottle for him, but there weren’t any bottles or formula for him. He was hungry and I didn’t know what he needed or wanted and I felt remorse about not nurturing him like I should. I was scared law enforcement would come take him away for neglect.
As I was writing this, I remembered praying a few nights ago for my 17 year old son who has been in a downward spiral with bipolar disorder and everything that comes with it, and God told me he’s hungry.
Archived Dreams from 2017
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