When Shadows Aim for Light

In the nights that followed, another dream came.

I found myself in a crowded hall, perhaps a conference, when sudden gunshots  shattered the air.

Panic erupted around me as everyone scrambled to hide.

But strangely, I realized—the bullets were not random.

They were aimed at me.

I cried out, my heart pounding against my ribs, feeling utterly exposed.

Time itself seemed to slow as I watched three bullets speed toward me.

And somehow—by instinct, by unseen grace—I dodged each one, narrowly escaping what felt inevitable.When I woke, the fear still clung to my body like a second skin.

But beneath the fear, a quiet knowing stirred.

The bullets were not just dangers from the outside world—they were old wounds, old fears, aimed at the parts of me still learning to stand tall.

Dodging them was not about running from life’s challenges, but about moving differently—listening deeply, trusting the unseen, allowing grace to guide my steps even when the world felt hostile.

It became clear: the world might sometimes feel like it is firing against me, but I am not powerless.

I have been given the eyes to see, the heart to sense, and the spirit to move through even the fiercest storms without losing myself.

Each dream was stitching a deeper truth into me: I am being prepared.

Not to hide.

Not to shrink.

But to walk forward with eyes open and spirit rooted, no matter how the world rages.

I am not meant to live in hiding.

The dream taught me that fear can chase me,even fire at me,but it cannot destroy me if i stay rooted in who i am becoming. I move forward,not untouched,but unbroken.There is strength in seeing the bullet coming and choosing,even in fear,to dance with grace rather than fall in terror.