We were at the church where I grew up. My mom was trying to make some changes. Above where the coat rack was, there seemed to be a loft type place. My mom had the idea to put a set of stairs there so kids could go up top and play and have their own service or something. I thought it was a good idea too.
When I woke up, I went over this whole dream, but now I’m really struggling to remember it.
I know something happened, and I was giving my mom a hard time over it. One of the deacons, F, told me to be easier on her. She left and went down to the basement to take care of some kids and have Sunday School.
I went downstairs, and wondered where my daughter was. Mom pointed to one of the classrooms, and I went in. She was in a carriage, and had been sleeping over two hours. I walked over quietly and she started to wake up. I wondered if she woke up because I was near her or if she was about to wake up anyway.