The Stranger Who Held My Hand

Many years ago, during a very trying time in my life, I had a dream where I was walking alone on the observation deck of the TD Centre, Canada’s tallest building in the seventies.

I circled the deck endlessly, feeling sad and depressed after the breakup of my twenty-one year marriage. Somehow, being fifty-six stories above the earth, seeing the city in panorama, was like looking at my future without a partner and I began to cry.

Suddenly, a faceless male figure, dressed in a robe came beside me and held my hand as we continued the walk.

I woke up to a powerful tingling sensation pulsing through my entire body.

I was reading All Things Are Possible Through Prayer by Charles Allen for the umpteenth time (it is such a wonderful book), when I came across this:  “And when a person has a firm hold on God’s hand, he has the power and strength flowing into him to keep him on his feet.”

I had highlighted the passage at some time, and now it reminded me of my dream.

I have always felt that the person in my dream was Jesus.

That dream gave me the strength and confidence to endure the years of single parenting, financial hardship, and life without love until it appeared once again to a waiting heart.



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