This morning he tells me sons and daughters will prophecy, dream dreams, see visions and nothing happens without action. As for the steps and which direction to take, apparently we’re to wait for signs and wonders, act on our free will, screw up, beg for mercy, humbly accept, put on a bunch of armor, do the dishes, sit, listen, pray and something about a fire breathing dragon. Makes perfect sense.

In the half light I scribbled out two dreams from the past two nights. The themes were work, school, church, cold, hard, sacrifice. No community. No warmth. No fun. No clarity. Just wandering echoey hallways littered with curling leaves looking for somewhere to be; for people, connection, warmth.

Instead, trailed by a mute, genderless toddler, the path was a series of shadowed hallways, dark, open spaces, marked by groups of strangers who appeared to belong to each other, doing things groups do; eating, mumbling, moving in gravitational orbits from fix to fix. Automatons covered in skin. I walked through them, detached from mattering in the concrete sense, hearing Blah blah blah but in dreamspeak. Whatever they were saying meant something to them. But we couldn’t have heard each other so I didn’t open my mouth.

After scrolling through 341 sweaters on H&M in my phone and picking none because the one I found yesterday magically disappeared, I recalled half a scene from Sunday night’s dream. Work doubling as a soup kitchen; church and state divided by a clanging set of double doors. The entire rectory fit in the foyer and smelled just like the incense as St. Pat’s before they moved those few statues to St. Aidan’s. Have you ever smelled things in dreams? Stephanie and Adam were in charge of the church side, presiding over blankets, the poor, sick, tired and hungry. Meanwhile, Kyle helped set up bunks for a temporary base camp on the work side. Even in dreams I have boundaries and more than a few questions. What are they waiting for? When can I go? Is it time yet? Why can’t I just sleep, talk, write, function, think, live like a normal person? Because you hate Archie Bunker, processed foods and small talk. Oh. Yea.

Rather than consulting sweaters, I read the rest of the devotion. Dream stuff, then do stuff but also watch for signs but mostly take action, be quiet, wait and meditate.

Ok, sweaters.

2 thoughts on “Sweater Weather

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