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Hispanic Church Dream

By Job3315 · Oct 14, 2020 ·
  1. May 21st, 2020

    I dreamt that I entered a Hispanic church. I knew I left a Hispanic church and I was looking for another one. When I arrived at this church, it looked pretty. It seemed like it was inside an American church. The lobby was pretty, it had light and it was beautifully decorated. To my left there was an opening to a room without a door, it was like a gathering area. I saw there was a table with information on it and I noticed there were business cards on a stand with the name of the Pastor and his wife. I grabbed one business card and read the name of the Pastors which coincidentally were the first name of my brother and my niece, but a different last name, I think it was Gonzalez. The name of my niece was spelled differently. I remember I tried looking around to see if I could find the Pastors (the couple) to tell the wife she had an unusual name and what a coincidence my niece’s name is the same, but with a Y not an i. I was trying to find something that gave me a confirmation about that church (If I should gather there). There were some people there talking a few feet away from the table. An older man with white hair was sitting on the floor between the legs of a woman sitting on a chair. His legs were spread on the floor almost like when babies sit on the floor with their legs open. I remember he was wearing a light blue suit, like children do. There were other people talking to the woman, but I don’t remember them. I figured the man was on the floor because he had mental problems. I walked out of the room towards the lobby. As I walked into the lobby, I noticed more people were getting in the church and I noticed a thin white woman with blond hair to her shoulders look at me with big eyes. She looked almost surprised to see me there, shocked to be exact. I think someone said or the Spirit told me that she had mental problems. When I heard that, I said to myself, “well, it seems some people in this church has mental problems, it might be a trait (curse) in this church”. I noticed the people of the church had placed food on a table in the middle of the lobby. I don’t remember what kind of food, but it was all beautiful, very decent. I grabbed a plate round paper plate and picked something to eat, some crackers with something and coffee. I got distracted by something but I don’t recall what. I had left my food somewhere and when to where I had left the plate on a table, there was a young girl, maybe 10 years old, blond, with her mother. I asked the girl if that was my plate. I looked at the plate and it had two or 3 Honey Maid crackers with some sort of cream on top, like baked merengue frosting. I looked at it confused because it looked like a mess. I asked the girl if that was my plate, but she said it was hers. I said, “I think that’s mine, I think I left it here”, She said she didn’t want it anyway and I could have it, but then I said, I can’t eat it anyway, I can’t eat gluten. I told her it was going to end up in the trash so I’d just toss it. She looked sweet and courteous. I still wanted to eat or drink coffee. I wondered to another area where they had a private room with a tv and a table with food and coffee. It could’ve been a prayer room. It was empty, no one else was there. The coffees were already served in coffee ceramic coffee mugs with designs. I grabbed a cup of coffee, but it didn’t have enough coffee in it so I noticed a bigger cup with more coffee, so I pour some from that cup into mine. I wondered when the service was going to start when I suddenly heard the congregation singing and clapping because the service had just started. They were singing a song that said something like, “Porque somos pecadores, porque somos pecadores”(Because we are sinners, because we are sinners) I said to myself, “Oh, no. They don’t know”. I wondered if I was there to help them realize who they are. I thought, “one church closed the door, but maybe this one will listen” (referring to the previous Hispanic church I tried helping but I had to leave because they didn’t want to take time to listen to God). When I thought that, I remember seeing a walnut color door in front of me. I felt mercy for this congregation, but then I looked at the tv and I noticed the choir. There was something wrong with their clothing. Even though in the natural it didn’t look bad, I knew there was something bad with it. I saw the pulpit was like a stage, there were chairs on the back where the elders sat and the choir entered. A chubby black woman was wearing red, another one was chubby and wearing dark blue and the other one was wearing black. They were wearing a top with a long skirt, same style, different colors. They were singing, but I don’t remember what it was that it made me uncomfortable, upset and even angry. I was raising my hands, in disbelief. I was saying, “No, no, no no…” because I was seeing something in the spirit, but I don’t exactly remember what it was. Suddenly, I was in the service with the congregation. I was standing up and my hands were in the air and then on my head and I was in disbelief. I looked around and some people noticed me doing that gesture. Some people were sitting down, I think others were standing. Worship had stopped and everyone sat, including myself. A woman who I think was the Pastors wife, who was dress in yellow and black, similar clothing to the people in the choir, walked towards the podium with some papers and she said something like, “and if there’s someone in the congregation who doesn’t like it, they can just leave”. I knew she was sending me an indirect message. I stood up and yelled something like, “What?! If you want to tell me something, say it to my face. I know you are talking to me! This is shameful, this is a disgrace!” I looked at everyone around the room and they looked at me as if I was mad. An usher who was a Hispanic young man, got closer to me to calm me down, but I kept yelling things, I don’t remember what. He had a light brown suit on, white shirt and a tie. He kept trying to calm me down, but I was so upset with what I had just seeing that I wouldn’t stop talking. At some point I said, “you should all be ashamed of yourselves!” The young man started pinching me. I thought they were such cowards that they sent a young man to get me out instead of someone else. He looked nervous because he didn’t know what to do. He then yelled, “Mon! Mon!” because apparently that’s a word for ma’am. He kept pinching my elbow to make me snap out of it. I calmed down because I knew he was nervous and I felt he was embarrassed that he couldn’t calm me down. I told him, “It’s ok, young man. I am just leaving”. I woke up.


    I searched online and “mon” means “my dear”.

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