The Gift of Dreams is a powerful chapter/prose poem in Leny Strobel's A Book of Her Own. In it, Leny relates images and narrative from dreams, ending each with focusing texts she titles Ponder this:.
I dream in color and for the most part, I dream surface dreams which seem part mystery science theater 3k, part purge-of-the-daily-stress, sprinkled liberally with twists and turns that would make the average dream interpreter crosseyed.
Occasionally though, I dream True. The specifics of True Dreaming are shrouded in mystery reserved for initiates only (*^.-*) however, the point is, that after reading The Gift of Dreams , I dreamt True and was even given the Gift of Interpretation the same night. I can only attribute this miracle to Leny's poetry.
I was in my old childhood church, before the Reconfiguration, when the altar was still at the back of the Church not the side, and definitely not relocated to its new space. I was in a hurry, because I new Fr. F was in the Vestry and that I needed to help him quickly. I found him in the room to left side of the altar, apparently frustrated. Sunlight streamed from a skylight above us. Around him were several others who I perceived were there to help him get ready for Mass. The problem was, though, that no one knew how to put on the elaborate vestments required. No amount of explanation from Fr. F seemed to help as the others didn't seem to speak the same language. I, though, understood him, although I too was unfamiliar with the vestments. We quickly layered on robe after robe, a few of them resembling flannel nightshirts that I had seen during the Real Day. After arranging the layers, the robes didn't quite settle correctly, so I knelt to tug at the hems. As soon as the robes were correct, Fr. F departed to start Mass. I don't remember if he thanked me, but I do remember feeling a sense of relief and accomplishment.
Once Mass starts, there's no going back to the main church except by using a hallway hidden behind the altar that connected the Vestry with the Bride's Room. I ducked down the passage and met a person who was very agitated. She said that there was a fire in the Bride's Room and she didn't know what to do. I quickly went down the passage telling her that I could try to put out the fire. In the Bride's Room I found a large table covered in candles all burning brightly and threatening to catch the table on fire. I quickly pulled the pin on a fire extinguisher and used the fluid to put out the candles. I realized that the fire had been deliberately set.
Ponder this: There is something only you can do, something sacred, something necessary. Something that must be layered to be complete, that will require both humility and the willingness to set things straight/correct before it goes into the world to do what it needs to do. But in moving from Light to Dark, beware of the possible destruction of what has been built, that there is a sabatour Within. You have the tools to end the destruction and allow the Work already set in motion to proceed unimpeded.