Hearing From God in the Quiet Season

The first couple of weeks, after Alex’s sudden promotion in 2008, God had us in some type of safety bubble. Perhaps formed out of the love and prayers that were being poured over us, for which we are eternally grateful. But it was evident there was a protective layer between us and the depths of our loss. God is good to do this for the brokenhearted. How else could we endure burying our son?

It was well into our 3rd week when the quiet fell on us. Our protective layer seemed to fall and reality hit like a 2x4 right between the eyes. Family and friends had returned to their lives and we were left to find our way through a deep-dark and despairing grief. (I have tried to describe the depths of my grief, and found there are no words. I tell others, “It is too awful for words.”) The awfulness of it is too much to revisit but as you can imagine or perhaps relate, it’s faith shaking. 

I want to emphasize that I can now appreciate the quiet season… it was during this season that God did His most powerful work. He has to remove us from the noise so that we learn to hear His heavenly whispers. Our spirit needs the quiet. It doesn’t feel good, but it is good for us and God knows what He is doing.

It was during the quiet season that I received a most sacred dream. It was my first dream of Alex. He was, I believe, in heaven. I saw him pass in front of me riding a beautiful black horse. He passed so quickly, so fiercely, that I only caught a glimpse of him, the right side of him. His body leaned all the way forward on his horse. His sweet face buried in the horses long mane. Alex had his head tilted down but his eyes were looking in the direction in which he rode. I notice trees in the distance. Everything is in black and white. No color. 

I can hear the horse laboring as they pass by. The noise of its hooves pounding against cobblestone streets is something I can still hear quite vividly. There is an urgency in the air. I can feel it.

As quickly as they appeared, they are now out of sight and the noise of the hooves on the cobblestone are a slow fade.

My shoulders fall forward, my head hung low and a haunting thought races through my mind, I didn’t get a chance to call out to him.

As soon as the thought settles I find myself standing before Alex. He is possibly sitting on a retaining wall or something similar. I cannot actually see a wall, I can only imagine that’s what he is sitting on. He is looking down at his lap. I notice a book laying there. He has a pen/pencil in his right hand. He appears completely content. In the distance I notice his horse tied loosely to a tree, behind him. 

Softly and in a seemingly respectful manner I ask, “What are you doing, baby?”

I’m learning Gaelic! See?”  He quickly and enthusiastically replies.

He sits up straight and flashes his million dollar smile with dimples heavily exposed. He quickly lifts his book about chest high and turns it around to where I can see the pages. There, in his own handwriting, are three words written in Gaelic. Now, I had never seen the written Gaelic language, but in my dream I knew and recognized it.  

Within a matter of seconds Alex’s hands disappear, then slowly the book disappears, but the three words start to float toward me. They lingered in the air as if allowing me time to study them. I must have known the dream was ending because I started to read the words out loud. Over and over. Coby, laying next to me in bed, could hear me talking in my sleep. He said I kept repeating three words. He couldn’t make out what I was saying. 

He said he asked three times, “Tesi, what are you saying?” He said I just kept repeating myself. 

He finally asked, “Do you want me to write this down?” 

Abruptly I awoke and sat straight up in bed, and in a panic, I cried, “Yes!” 

My heart was pounding so fast I could hardly catch my breath. I felt as if I had passed through water. I looked down around me, expecting to find a pool of water, but I was bone dry. The bed dry as well. 

Coby came out of our bathroom and in a bit of a panic he asked, “What happened? What were you saying?” 

I began to cry and explained my dream. He calmed me and mentioned that he wrote down my words and left them for me on the bathroom cabinet. Exhausted, I laid down and fell back asleep. 

The next morning Coby left early and didn’t wake me. He knew I needed to rest. When I awoke, I called him at work and we went over the dream again. At one point he had me laughing, he said, “I was concerned when you were speaking. I couldn’t figure out what you were saying. I thought you were speaking in tongues!” This still makes me giggle because we are Baptist. I bet he was a little freaked out. 

He reminded me that he had written down, to the best of his knowledge, what I kept repeating. I ran into the bathroom and grabbed the paper. He did good, he just mistook a C for a K but other than that he nailed it.

We did not have high speed internet at the time, only dial up, not to mention I knew very little about computers or the internet. So I called my sister, Missey. I told her about my dream and asked if she would get online with an interpreter and find out what “i cour tien” means. ( I do not know how to emphasize the accents here but Alex had them included when I saw the words in my dream.) 

I asked my sister if she could have Alex’s words translated in Irish, Scottish and Welsh– she jumped right on it.

Within hours she called me and was currently online with a Welsh translator. He needed to know if I wanted him to insert a “F” a “P” or an “H.” I was extremely confused. Why would he want me to add letters to the words? Before Missey could respond, the translater chose to insert an “F”. ( I will explain this further along in the story.)

So here is what she found out; Irish meaning: “I, the eleven sons of the palace.” 

Scottish meaning: “I, General.” 

Welsh meaning: “I turned bonfire.” (without additional letters)

The Welsh translation quickly became the focus– it stole my breath and broke me wide open. No sooner had I began to cry, my sister said, “Wait! He just sent the new translation. The Welsh meaning with the letter “F” is translated, I turned from bonfire!”

A big sigh of relief fell over the both of us.

God had impressed, from the beginning, that He had Alex before the two trucks ever collided and caught fire. The enemy, however, was relentless in my suffering. He had me doubting. He had gained a strong foothold in my suffering. Through this sacred dream and the Welsh translation God gave the gift of affirmation. There was never another doubt that He had Alex in His loving arms, before point of contact.

Oh, before I forget, here is a quick lesson of the Welsh language; Some letters of the alphabet are not included in the Welsh language and have to be found in borrowed words. That explains the need for another letter, from the translator.

Toward the end of our emotional phone conversation Missey asked if I wanted Alex’s words translated in French or English. I told her we were good, she could get offline now. I was elated with what she had learned. Just having confirmation that there was meaning in Alex’s words was immeasurably comforting to me. Later that evening I shared all that we had learned from the translator, with Coby and Hayden. 

Hayden’s response left me with chills, “Mom, Alex was already learning Gaelic. He wanted to learn the language before his trip to Ireland, Scotland, and Wales!” I was speechless. I had no idea he was learning the language but it makes perfect sense that Alex would devote his time to learning it. He was deeply passionate about his heritage.

After a day or so I mentioned to Coby that Missey had asked if I wanted a French and English translation, he was a little upset that I had declined her offer. So the next day, I called and asked if she would kindly get that information for Coby. She assured me that she didn’t mind at all. She was as heavily invested in this as we were.

As I am hanging up from speaking with Missey, I get a call on the other line. It was one of the ladies from our Church. She had some pictures and a DVD for us, of Alex . They were from “The Reality Play” he had been in, that prior summer.  I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. She offered to bring them right over. 

In a matter of 30 minutes or so, Missey calls, she has a translation for us. I recall standing in our dining room, staring out the window as she began reading the translations.. 

English meaning: “On bended knees before Him.” (She mentions that it is speaking of being in the presence of a King. 

French meaning: “Sword of Mercy.” 

My heart leapt. “Wow! Alex loved swords. We were just looking at the one Kody bought for him, for his birthday!” I explained. 

Right then! Right then! Two women walk past our dining room window and one of them is carrying a sword! 

“I have to let you go, Missey! I have to call you back!” I abruptly hung up. I ran and opened the front door before the ladies had a chance to ring the doorbell. 

“What is that?” I asked, pointing to the sword. 

“This belonged to Alex. It’s his sword!” The lady replied.

“No. I don’t think so.” I said with a sagging spirit. 

“Oh, Yes! It’s his! He made us buy it for him. He said he would play the part of an Angel, but only if he had a sword. He wanted to be the Angel of Mercy!” She recalled.

You could have knocked me over with a feather. Although we had attended the play and witnessed our sons angelic character, I had no recollection of the sword. I was speechless.

I had to share with her what had just transpired between my sister and I, as she was walking up the sidewalk. I explained my dream and all that followed. We wept. Happily, we wept. The French translation astounded us to our core.

After the kind ladies left, I watched the DVD. I sat in awe. There, on my TV screen was our Alex. Alive, healthy, handsome, with beautiful white wings attached to his back, holding a sword. I lost my breath.

Alex did not have a speaking part in the play, he just stood there, proudly protecting a helpless teenager who had been under the influence of demons. He was meant for the part. The name Alex, is translated as "helper of mankind." 

Coby and I had said, many times, in the days after Alex’s promotion, and before this dream, that we felt very strongly Alex had favor with God. We felt that he held a high ranking. A military status of sorts. Don’t ask how we know this, we just do. It has been deeply impressed into our spirit. And we are more convinced with each dream of him.

It was in our quiet season that God began to speak directly to me through a series of dreams– revealing His plan for Alex and His plans for our lives. This dream, being my first, was evidence of Gods indisputable and divine involvement in our lives.