I was in that season of seemingly non-stop dreaming. This particular time I dreamt I walked into a hospital room. A private room. A woman was lying in the bed, eyes closed, unmoving.
I walked over to her in the darkened room with just the bed’s overhead light on. I put my hand on her stomach and she arched violently and dropped back down onto the bed. I woke up.
“Go to Faith Temple.” That’s all I heard. It was Sunday morning. Honestly, I’m not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. I didn’t make the connection between the dream and the instructions.
I got up, got dressed and headed for the church. I’d be missing service at my own church this morning. I walked in around 9:30am – Sunday school was in session. There were several classes going on in the sanctuary. Someone met me at the door and directed me to the women’s class which was located in the choir stand.
As I sat down, I heard: “Ask for Jean.” I thought, *I am losing it*, but obedience beats sacrifice any day. Just as I opened my mouth to ask if there was someone named Jean in the class, the Sunday school teacher said, “Sister Jean, you have a comment?” Indeed she did. I turned in the direction of the voice. A slender, gray-haired woman – the woman in my dream.
After Sunday school, I caught her as we walked down the isle toward the doors of the sanctuary. “Hi, I’m Connie Taylor and I need to talk to you.”
“Let’s step out into the foyer,” she smiled. “Service is about to start." Out in the foyer I explained why I was there. I told her about the dream, where I laid my hands on her body and what happened. She began to sob and worship God.
“I just got out of the hospital,” she said. “I have a mass in my stomach. I’ve been praying for healing. Oh, God! Thank You, Jesus!” there was no shame in her worship.
“May I pray for you now?” I asked.
“Oh, yes!” she raised her hands to God. I laid my hand on her stomach and tried to listen to what God wanted to hear so He could do what He needed to do. As I prayed, she continued to worship God in tears and almost sank to the floor. When I finished, the Lord spoke.
“Let’s go.” I left. I was not allowed to stay for service. So. I made it to my own church after all. I have not seen Jean from that day to this one. But I know God took care of business that day. We’ll meet up and chat when we get to “forever.” LOL
WALTER: This is normal, right, Ms. T.?
ME: Yeah, Walter. This is normal.