A blog intensifying the flavor of life and toasting those who share in the feast, rather than settling for a dry, plain, melba toast existence.

Monday, July 8, 2013

awaken

Sometimes a dream stays with me long after I am awake. My rational mind tries to remember the setting to determine whether I have traveled to the place before, and I like to take time to consider what the story line is telling me. Mostly I want to determine whether this dream has any hidden meaning of merit or whether I am just too stressed or ate something weird for dinner.

I laugh when people are asked if they dream in color as my dreams tend to rival Les Miserables for their lavish costumes, large musical numbers, expansive sets and engaging actors. At least once I used a dream to write a paper in school and was given an A for my imagination. Didn't have the heart to tell the teacher that all I had to do was go to sleep!

In my recent dream I was visiting a cathedral. In some ways it reminded me of the basilica I visited last summer in Asheville, NC, while on vacation with my friend, Tia. We were drawn to experience something that reminded us of our childhood faith tradition, and in my dream I seemed to have the same desire.

Alone in my dream, I thought I would spend some time in prayer. I became aware while touring this unknown cathedral that an opportunity to take communion and receive prayer existed as I discovered a schedule of services. Thinking this would be a nice experience, I continued my tour. I ended up in what appeared to be a convent, attached to the main sanctuary by a long hallway. There I could see nuns wearing blue habits getting ready to offer communion. A line of women formed to receive prayer. I could see a woman barely able to walk on her own holding up the line. She asked if someone would help her and as no one offered, I decided I would.

Once I had taken her down that long hallway back to the main sanctuary I saw a boy about the age of 12 sitting by himself. Where was his family? I wanted to know. He smiled and said he was with a group but because he could not walk he would wait for them to find him. I could not understand how he was going to be found since he was not at the meeting spot and could not get there on his own. He agreed to let me carry him and much to my surprise this was not difficult for me to do. He was nearly as tall as I am but carrying him was like carrying a baby.

Done with my good deeds, I want to rush back to the nuns. Running through a church does not seem to be a correct choice so I take a back door which leads to a rickety scaffolding I then have to navigate in the dark. This frightens me and I try not to look down as it now appears I am several stories in the air and attempting to run on narrow planks while holding onto the bars on each side. But I do not make it in time. Communion dishes are being washed and put away, and the nuns, in their matter-of-fact way, tell me they are sorry I missed communion and prayer but I may be able to participate in the main service if I hurry. So off I go hoping not to miss out on any more.

Before finding a seat I notice that someone had forgotten to light the candles! So somewhere I find a lighter and start lighting them. I pay no attention to the fact that the church is filling up and as I turn around I realize there is no where for me to sit or pray and I have missed communion altogether. I can't stay where I am, on the altar, because I really was not supposed to be there to begin with and yet I don't know where exactly it is that I am supposed to be. I say one of those panicked in-the-moment prayers asking why I could not spend time practicing my faith and celebrating tradition when it was my very intention to do so. I had come to take a little time out of my day to be with God. How could I have messed this up?

I then think about the woman I helped walk to her pew, the little boy I carried to find his group, and the candles that needed to be lit; all choices I knew I needed to make. Above the clatter of my unsettled thoughts, I heard a still small voice whisper, "You don't ever need to come looking for me when I am with you already."






2 comments:

  1. Thanks for sharing this, Mary Ellen. Your dreams are as rich as your writing and your imagination. I love the way God answered you so simply and beautifully at the end.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Tia, I was so hoping that you of all people would read this! This is the second time I have received this message from God--both in powerful ways. Guess I have needed some reassurance lately. Missing you, my friend, and remembering a wonderful summer trip.

      Delete