The Dream and the Voice to Fight

Before I ever received the call on a Friday telling me that last week’s biopsy had come back positive for cancer, I had a dream on Sunday night. In the dream I was standing before a massive, dark, and reckless storm. Despite its intensity, the storm could not reach me. It was as if an invisible boundary separated the dry, sunny, and clear side where I stood from the chaos on the other side. I could feel droplets of rain carried over from the dark side, but I stood there peacefully, simply observing.

On Monday morning I woke up with a deep sense that the Holy Spirit was telling me to fast for three days. By Thursday morning, I woke up reciting scripture about God rising on the third day. That same morning, my mother told me she had woken up to a scripture and instead of speaking it, she showed it to me. It was the exact same scripture I had been reciting.

Early Friday morning around 4 a.m., while I was still sleeping, I heard a faint “fight.” Then I heard it again. And then a third time, louder and clearer: “FIGHT.” That jolted me fully awake. I went straight to my prayer closet. On the way there, Isaiah 40:31 rose in my spirit: “Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint.”

Only a few hours later, the phone rang. “Are you in a space where you can talk, Ms. Richardson?” my doctor asked.