A dream, 1989. Return from Israel.
I was in the upstairs of a place. The people were quitely talking in hushed tones and
I was wondering what they were waiting for...then eyes looked towards the entrance
of the room. They looked for a moment then went back to their discussions.
I looked also. However, this man in shepherds clothing looked out of place somehow,
not like the others. I wanted to comfort him and make him feel welcome. As he
approached the interior of the room, I reached out for his hands. He offered them
to me and I immediately closed my eyes to pray.
I held his hands in mine and had my thumbs touching the inside of his palm, when
I felt something. It seems like grit, or something rough...then it dawned on me that
my hands were holding hands that had been crucified...even as the word came into
my mind I was amazed...I opened my eyes to look up and the face that had been
hidden in the wrap...all I could see were his eyes...my own eyes filled with tears,
and He said, "Your journey is not in vain".
Then I realized that I was holding on to the hands of the Beloved and looked back
down...there was a narrow table between us, and at that moment I realized it was
the table of showbread. I woke up.
I know that our journey is not in vain...
Shalom,
Signet