Becca had a dream earlier this year.
One of those sharp, 'pay attention to this' dreams, one of those 'there must be more' dreams. She dreamed she was in the garden courtyard here outside St Stephens - our girls were little, dressed for church, and running around near her - I was inside the sanctuary - and a strong wind started blowing out of dark clouds, a wild wind from black storm clouds sweeping in off a sea.
The wind was sweeping everything. Sweeping it clean. Blowing all the dead leaves and broken branches away. Blowing hard.
Then on the wind came a white veil, long, swirling, coming down from above, dazzling against the dark clouds and wrapping all around the church, it was a bridal veil…
Then suddenly out of the storm clouds a shaft of brilliant white light descended unexpectedly to the ground right at her feet. And she knew if she stepped into that light she was stepping into eternity, stepping into joy. It took her breath away.
She made a collage of it. It hangs on our dining room wall (see picture above). We have thought about it often. Especially in these days of growing persecution.
He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. Jn 15:2 (NIV)
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