You woke up checking your hands

If you've had the dream, you know the moment. You were smoking in it, easy as anything, and you woke with your heart pounding, checking your hands in the dark for evidence. Relief landed first. Right behind it came a worse thought. What if I still want it that badly?

Strange, vivid dreams are a known part of getting free. Your brain is rebalancing and sorting old files, including scenes you've lived plenty of times. The cigarette would love you to mistake a rerun for a trailer. A dream about smoking is memory being sorted, not desire being confessed.

Look at what the dream left you with when you woke. Not longing. Dread, and then a flood of relief. God has been building something in you deep enough to reach your sleep. That relief is the real you, answering before you had time to think.

Keep two lines ready for the dark. The first goes to God. Still free, Lord. Still Yours. The second goes to the ceiling, softly, out loud, so your own ears catch it. Then roll over. You're the same person you were when you closed your eyes. I didn't. It was a dream. I'm free.