Saturday, June 23, 2007

What Do You Make of This Dream?

I usually don't remember dreams. But I guess that this one occurred close enough to my waking up this morning that I remember it.

I've been gone the past week, participating in a Group Work Camps Foundation 'Week of Hope' mission trip with three adults and nine youth from our church. (It was a great experience.) I'm taking tomorrow off and we'll be having a guest preacher.

In my dream, for some reason, my wife and I have to run over to the church building, which is about three miles from my house. It's Sunday morning. As I enter the church lobby, I glance at my watch and note that it'll be ten minutes before the service is to begin. Somehow, I slink into the church office without anyone noticing my presence. I'm both relieved and mystified by that; I want to get out before the service starts and not call attention to myself.

I run off some copies in the church office and write down some information for which I'd been looking.

Just as I come out of the office, I see the guest pastor breathlessly walk into the church building, an alb and stole flung carelessly over his arm. He must have had trouble getting here today, I think. (I have no idea what the guest pastor for tomorrow looks like. But in my dream, he's a man of about my age, mid-50s, squat, but powerfully built. He wears black hornrim glasses and a brown clerical shirt. His hair and moustache were once black, but are now sprinkled with grey.)

While I want to go and be out of his way, I decide that, since I'm there, I really should say something to him before I leave. I follow him into the sanctuary. While there isn't a huge crowd inside, I note that there are new faces and some people who've been with us lately and have returned, continuing a trend we've seen lately.

Again, as in the hallway, I somehow slither through undetected. And again, I'm relieved and mystified.

Try as a I might, I can't seem to reach the guest pastor. I do get within ten feet of him, but he's busily speaking with the worship accompanist. Knowing that he'll feel hairied if I try to greet him now, I set out for the parking lot.

When I get there, my car is nowhere to be seen. Instead, in the spot where I'd parked it, I find a cable car. My wife is inside. She explains that the conductor--of a trackless cable car?--needed to go do something and wanted me to take it for awhile. The end of my dream finds figuring out how to steer the thing, avoiding bumping into any of the cars on the lot, and heading out onto the street next to our church building.

So, what do you make of this one?