This post is not a dream, it’s my ramblings. 🙂 Be forewarned.
When faced with the thought of “understanding” or “interpreting” my dreams, I get overwhelmed. Very easily. I actually have notebooks upon notebooks of dreams that I’ve never done anything with, because I have no idea where to start.
One of the biggest reasons that I decided to start a blog about my dreams is so I could add tags, and easily see – what am I dreaming about the most? It seems logical to me that I could start with the recurring trends, and try to understand those. Right or wrong, it makes this whole journey seem a little more “bite sized” to me.
So – as of today, 50-ish posts into this adventure, the most commonly used tag (outside of some general categories like “dream”, “animus”, and “shadow”) has been Chapel of the Cross.
This is my church. This is my spiritual home. I suppose it’s no wonder that God brings this holy place front and center in many of my dreams.
As a child, I did not grow up in a church. My mom and dad were “spiritual” but not “religious.” I never belonged to a specific church, although I visited several. I never really wanted to *belong* – in fact, when my mom and I would occasionally go to a church to visit, I always worried that they would kick me out. Maybe it was because I never really “agreed” with the doctrines that were being presented to me…. Maybe it was me, just being an insecure child. Either way, I was not a churchgoing kid.
As an adult, I dabbled in church a bit, but again, never JOINED. When I got ready to move to Mississippi, I knew I wanted to find a church. I’m not sure why – I just felt that I needed that in my life. I started visiting various baptist and methodist churches, because that was what I was familiar with. I built a spreadsheet, circling churches whose doctrines I agreed with, and scratching out those that I disagreed with. One day, Michael said, “Why don’t we try out this little church I’ve always wanted to see… it’s an Episcopal Church,” and I said, “What’s that? Is there a bunch of standing and kneeling, because I don’t know about all that.” 🙂 After some prodding, we visited. And then we visited again. And then Michael made me go to a Wednesday Night Supper. And then my (now) friend Dan invited me to a book club. And then I did a service project. And then before I knew what had happened, I was baptized, confirmed, and fully in love with the Chapel and her people.
So what does the Chapel mean to me?
This is my “home”… I suppose as close to Heaven as I can get while here on Earth. This is my place to re-center, to talk to God. It’s a group of people who I care about, and who care about me. We take care of one another. We eat together. We play together. At the moment, we are embarking on a capital campaign to build a new sanctuary, and we are about to grow together. I can FEEL the energy and the Holy Spirit in this place, and I believe that it’s truly something holy and sacred.
So what does this mean in my dreams….? I know that it’s something special… that’s for certain.