A few months ago, I had a dream, where I was heading to attend a conference in Phoenix. I had driven thousands of miles from home, to attend a conference, where members of the LDS Remnant group were gathering. Driving in a caravan of white vans, we were led into a sports complex, where there was a covered building where these friends were gathering. I entered the building, and there were ladies of the Remnant Relief Society, who were gathered and sitting at tables, crocheting or crafting small spinner crafts made with paper and craft sticks. Walking close to a round table of ladies, I observed over the shoulders of those who had already arrived earlier than I had, and tried to gather, through context clues, what they were making, and how to make my own. I watched and watched, but couldn't quite gather all the details.
Realizing I'd have to make a gamble on my own, I sat down at a table, where a few other women were seating, working on their projects. Beginning my own craft, I picked up the paper and craft sticks and glue, and started focusing on my work. I sat in frustration, knowing I should ask for help, but also knowing it was the nature of the individuals in this group to censure one another when new people didn't understand the way. And not that I was new and ignorant, I just didn't have all the instruction that they had received, due to arriving later to the gathering. After sitting for what felt like 15 minutes, I dared to look up to the lady next to me, and ask her for some help. But I knew I shouldn't have.
Immediately she furrowed her eyebrows, scolding me with her eyes. Then her lips.
"If you needed help you should have asked long ago! You've been here for 15 minutes already!" Her insults didn't stop, even though her lips did, as I knew what she was thinking as she stood up and walked away behind me.
I heard a voice whisper to my right ear, from someone different. Not understanding it, I turned my head to the right in hopes to hear better. I asked, "What?" The message was repeated, with hands covering the individual's mouth, so only I would hear. But again, I didn't understand it. Still with my head to the right, I said, "I'm really sorry, I don't understand what you're saying. Can you say it again please?"
The third time the woman spoke to me, and I understood. She told me, through the back of my head somehow, to "Look up to the hands that hang/come/reach down." I am unsure if I saw hands reaching down through the clouds, or just knew they were there, but the image is emblazoned in my memory. I knew she was an angel at this point.
This is my report of the dream from February, 2017.
Realizing I'd have to make a gamble on my own, I sat down at a table, where a few other women were seating, working on their projects. Beginning my own craft, I picked up the paper and craft sticks and glue, and started focusing on my work. I sat in frustration, knowing I should ask for help, but also knowing it was the nature of the individuals in this group to censure one another when new people didn't understand the way. And not that I was new and ignorant, I just didn't have all the instruction that they had received, due to arriving later to the gathering. After sitting for what felt like 15 minutes, I dared to look up to the lady next to me, and ask her for some help. But I knew I shouldn't have.
Immediately she furrowed her eyebrows, scolding me with her eyes. Then her lips.
"If you needed help you should have asked long ago! You've been here for 15 minutes already!" Her insults didn't stop, even though her lips did, as I knew what she was thinking as she stood up and walked away behind me.
I heard a voice whisper to my right ear, from someone different. Not understanding it, I turned my head to the right in hopes to hear better. I asked, "What?" The message was repeated, with hands covering the individual's mouth, so only I would hear. But again, I didn't understand it. Still with my head to the right, I said, "I'm really sorry, I don't understand what you're saying. Can you say it again please?"
The third time the woman spoke to me, and I understood. She told me, through the back of my head somehow, to "Look up to the hands that hang/come/reach down." I am unsure if I saw hands reaching down through the clouds, or just knew they were there, but the image is emblazoned in my memory. I knew she was an angel at this point.
This is my report of the dream from February, 2017.
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