The Lavender Storm
Originally written February 14, 2021
I’m a firm believer that God speaks to all of us but how He speaks is uniquely personal. Sometimes it’s through scripture. Sometimes it’s through a whisper in the night. And sometimes… it’s through a dream. Back in 2017, a dear and trusted friend shared a dream she had about me. At the time, I didn’t understand it. Honestly, I brushed it off. I wasn’t ready to receive it let alone interpret it. I tucked it away and moved on. But then came a hot August day in 2020. I was sitting on my back patio when suddenly, like a gentle wave crashing over my soul, Holy Spirit placed His finger on that dream. It rose from the depths of my memory, brought into full, conscious awareness. And this time I understood. If I had fully known what this dream meant when it was first given to me, it would’ve scared the life out of me. But God, in His mercy, let the dream take root in my spirit like a seed hidden in the soil quietly growing until the time was right.
The Dream:
“You were wearing a flowing lavender dress.
You were very pregnant and ready to give birth.
There was a large body of water like an ocean and waves were crashing.
You began to walk into the choppy water, waist-deep, knowing you were going to give birth.
There was a boat… and a lighthouse.
It was sunset. And in the distance, a storm was rolling in.
Your husband stood frozen on the shore. He didn’t follow you into the water.”
At the time, I laughed it off “I’m not pregnant… nor do I want any more kids!” But now, years later, I see it.
I was never pregnant with a child. I was pregnant with myself. This dream was a heating lamp on the embryo of my soul. Like a fetus hidden in the womb, life had already begun cells multiplying, identity forming long before I was even aware of what was happening. The dream implanted itself in my spirit, and when the time was right… it moved within me.
The Lavender Dress:
Lavender is the color of domestic violence awareness. It represents healing, survival, and transformation. It speaks of a woman who has been through hell and come out radiant. It means: you will overcome, you will rise above your troubles, and you will enter into new, healthy life.
The woman in the lavender dress was me. Whole. Holy. Rising.
Pregnant & Ready to Give Birth:
There comes a time in every woman’s life—especially those of us who married young, raised littles, and spent decades caring for others—when we feel something shift. A stirring. A movement. A holy ache that asks: “Who am I?” It’s not a midlife crisis—it’s a soul awakening. It’s the rebirth of YOU. Not the wife, the mom, or the caretaker… but the WOMAN. And once that question is asked, there’s no going back. The birth is inevitable. The storm is coming. And both will happen at the same time.
The Man on the Shore:
In the dream, my husband Shon stood frozen. He didn’t follow. He didn’t enter the water. Frozenness in dreams often represents emotional shutdown—fear, denial, detachment. And that was real in my marriage. While I stepped into unknown depths and embraced the pain of rebirth, he remained disconnected. Lifeless. That part of my life had reached its end. But I was not alone.
The Boat & The Lighthouse
The boat is the soul’s journey—your heart navigating emotional waters toward healing. Even in the storm, the boat floats.
Even when waves crash, the boat moves forward. And the lighthouse? That was Him. My Father. My God. The One who never left the shore, but always guided me from it.
“You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world…
Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine!”
— Matthew 5:14-16 (MSG)
He was never far. He was always drawing me in, lighting the path through the storm, guiding me into the full rebirth of who I am today.
Awakened by the Movement Within
That August afternoon, everything made sense. I wasn’t losing my life—I was birthing a new one. Not in spite of the storm, but through it. I was becoming. I am becoming. And this lavender storm? It’s holy ground. It’s the birthplace of the woman God always knew I would be.