A dream gifted . . . . lean in as you might. I was sitting on the edge of a wall. A table beside be with some cards to sell. I was there because the cards and market stall were the work of a little congregation in a small community. They were hoping to simply engage with the community as they sold cards. Nothing big. A small endeavour. At the other end of the table a man sat down. He was curious about what I was doing and why I was there. So I told him. He then said to me, he had some thoughts about how the |
The next moment in my dream there was a crowd of people present. All sitting in chairs in the space in the middle of market hall. They were noisy, and facing each other. I turned to the man, but he was gone.
The noisy talking people were the bigger church. All clamouring for their voices to be heard. I stood up, and went to the middle and spoke. I told them about the man who had come to the market stall. I told them about the beginning of our conversation. I said, "I was about to hear what the man had to say about our community . . . .but the church showed up. . . . ."
But the church showed up . . . . .