Symbols I'm Pondering: Lock-Ins and Sleeping Bags

Another dream last night, even though I had had a hard time sleeping. You might like to read this short story that may or may not be meaningful. I included a lot of the details this time, but left a great many of them out too. At least it wasn’t a tornado dream!


During the course of scene one I progress from volunteer to youth director to associate pastor to sr pastor as I deal with a lock-in for youth. It started with 20 kids, then 50 kids, then 100 kids, then a few hundred kids. I have to be the bad cop and set the rules – no purpling (pinks and blues mixing in sleeping areas), no food or drink or drugs or weapons in sleeping areas, and so forth.

At 10pm the program started – music, skits, a talk. I’m proud of the program we have and of the kids who are paying attention and interacting with the material. I slip out to check sleeping bags and realize I’m not the only one who has to check them – there are lots of volunteers. I only have to be the sr pastor, interacting with adults, youth.

Scene change – my mom is my secretary, keeping me on track with my schedule as a sr pastor. She reminds me that I have a doctor’s appointment. I go alone and the doctor tells me that I have had a heart attack. I take a sudden leave of absence and don’t tell anyone but close family why. After some convalescence I know I can’t return to the same work and take a new job teaching moral actions to gang members who are becoming police officers. Needing a vacation from that job, I head south on the train.

I run into an area where I used to play with the local kids, and see a child from my old church job who now lives there. I try to cover my face so I’m not recognized and move through the neighborhood remembering people and games I used to play. I think the child recognizes me and calls her father to come see. From afar I see that it’s not the child’s father I knew from church, but the father of the children I played with from that condo. Now I really try to hide my face so I’m not recognized, though I’m unsure why I’m hiding. I can sense that he is walking closer to me, I try to hide behind a scarf and turn around and run, but suddenly he is behind me, grabs me from behind and scoops me into a huge hug. We haven’t seen each other in 25 years. The reunion stuns me and opens up a whole new life where I am loved and known as an equal.


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