Thank God Josh's night terrors have gone away. We're grateful for that. But that doesn't mean that he never gets bad dreams. The other night I went in to find him sitting up and crying, and he proceeds to tell me that he's had a bad dream. I asked him what it was about, and he answered:
Teeth.
That's it. Just teeth. A bad dream about teeth. I prayed that he would have no more bad dreams about...teeth, and in the morning he excitedly told me that my prayers had worked. Now, most nights he has me pray that there would be no bad dreams about...teeth.
Two nights ago as I was praying the teeth away, I asked him what he would like to dream about and encouraged him to pray it for himself. I was thinking he would say "spiderman" or "Mario" or "school." But, instead, my heart leapt for sheer joy when he said:
Soccer.
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