I had one of *those dreams* again yesterday. It was so vivid at the time, but like all it's brethren it starts to fade in my memory after a while. I dreamt I was in the parsonage, on the carport, cleaning and gardening (my two most common activities right now.) The local kids were hanging around, as they are wont to do. The weather started to turn - this area is the worst in Georgia for tornados. The kids ran down to the ditch at the bottom of the driveway and laid down. I yelled and screamed for them to come inside either the parsonage or church for shelter, but to no avail. I barely got inside to lay on the kitchen floor before it hit. The wind was so strong, it moved me around on the floor of the kitchen. I was able to get the door shut but to keep it shut for my safety and the safety of the kids and cats, I had to lock it. The kids in the neighborhood had no way to get in - and I was incredibly sad at this. I was able to take refuge under my desk.
Yesterday, the dream seemed so real that I wondered at the state of the house and yard. I kept expecting it to be covered with storm debris. I had dreamt that the roof was partially ripped off and that much of the house was soaked with water - and was surprised to get to the kitchen yesterday and find it OK.
I know what my dream probably means. And it makes me sad. The power of God moves through - the justice and righteousness of God is like the power of the tornado. Shelter and safety are offered, but not all take advantage of it. I know that's one meaning. Sitting with it today.