I don’t pay much attention to most of my dreams. For one thing, I very rarely remember much about them.  For another, the vast majority of my dreams are like a combination of a train wreck and an attic and when they do make sense they probably have a lot to do with first-child syndrome: that burdened business not of feeling like God, but of having been deputized. But tonight I awoke from a dream that left an impression. I was sitting with my younger brother in a hospital waiting room.  To und … [Read more...]