Something I said started a riot. The melee left me dumbfounded. Men and women picked up wooden chairs and hurled them across the aisles at one another. The conflict left me numb, as if an injection of strong Novocain had been administered to my brain. After all, this was a house of worship in England, a church, a place to meet with God. It wasn’t a fighting rink.
How answering one simple question could come to this…well, I just couldn’t figure it out. Really, I hadn’t meant to push an (obviously) over-sensitive nerve. I was there to bless these people, to serve the Lord and them through the ministry of the Word and the power of His Holy Spirit, not to start World War III.
The interior of the old church—with its weathered, grey timbers across walls and ceiling, and rows of wooden benches filling the first half of the sanctuary, followed by rows of wooden chairs in neatly arrange rows clear to the back wall—had left me with the sense of being in a worship house with spiritual and historical value. It couldn’t have been any less than a hundred-years-old.
Perhaps you wonder how this riot began? It all started when I answered a British man’s straight-forward question. “Aren’t you charging for the meetings?” he asked me in front of the entire congregation. “No. I wouldn’t charge a fee for Christian meetings or conferences,” I answered.
This was a dream, thankfully. Something like this wouldn’t actually happen. So, breathe deeply; everything’s well.
While in that state of deep sleep, where messages sometimes come to us from the Lord, I watched with disbelief at the congregation’s reaction to my personal conviction. Half of those present agreed with my sentiments and the other half disagreed.
A fight erupted. Everyone stood and exchanged angry words. Yelling grew to shoves. Then a man hurled a wooden chair at his fellow believer, standing two rows across from him. Someone else lifted a chair high over head and lugged it at his “brother.” In a flash, the air filled with flying chairs, as one enraged person launched the wooden weapon against another.
My friend Phil looked over at me with his eyes large and unbelieving. “Sista, we’ve gotta take it on the road,” he said. (Which in his lingo means, let’s get out of here.) “I know someone in Salisbury. I’ll take you to Salisbury.”
What’s the source of this dream? In the Bible, we’re shown through numerous examples and taught through Scripture that sometimes God speaks to us in dreams. I believe that the Riot Dream is from Him. If it is, then we need to ask, what is He saying?
This is one of those rare times when I’m not doing all of the writing. I have my own ideas about what the dream means. But I’m not providing the answer, because I want to hear from you. This is your opportunity to chime in with your perspective or dream interpretation. Go for it.
Pamela Koefoed, Author and Evangelist
(Genesis 37:5–10); Joseph, the husband of Mary (Matthew 2:12–22); Solomon (1 Kings 3:5–15); and several others (Daniel 2:1; 7:1); (Matthew 27:19). There is also a prophecy of dreams from the prophet Joel (Joel 2:28)
via Living Outloud. 2/06/2015