This week, my dream took a different turn. I was in an inner city on a clean up crew. The filth and stench of the ghetto riled my senses as I pulled dirty rags from empty holes, scrubbed stains that wouldn't go away, and felt the futility of trying to solve the world's problems.

As my dreams go, I got separated from everyone else. Walking on unfamiliar streets, I encountered a group of teenage girls hanging out on a corner. One of the girls had a newborn baby, who was crying. I reached for the child, took her in my arms, and cuddled her close. Soon she fell asleep. In the next scene I was alone with the child. What was I to do? Then I noticed a wizened old man leaning against a lamppost. I told the man my problem while he simply stared at me-an old woman and a child.

As I looked into the man's eyes, I was moved with compassion and blurted out, "Mister, do you know Jesus?"

"No," he answered blandly.

"Would you like to know Him?" I countered.

He thought a minute, then replied, "No."

It was at that point that I awoke and touched my husband's hand, with the realization that I was again safe in my own home.

As I lay in bed at 2:00 A.M., I prayed for the poor that inhabit not only our inner cities, but back-country roads around the world. I prayed for youth that have lost their way and hang together for family and a bit of safety. I prayed for the displaced babies of the world, along with the thousands that are aborted each year. I prayed for the people, both old and young, who need Jesus and don't know it.

I represent the church. Can the church get lost in a maze of religious activity, class socials, and self-help projects?

Where is my place in all of this, Lord? I can't be a Mother Teresa and open a clinic in India to comfort the dying. At my age, I can't run a homeless shelter or take in foster children. What's that you say, Lord?

"Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me" (Mark 9:37). "I tell you the truth, anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to Christ will certainly not lose his reward" (Mark 9:41).

Others? Okay, Lord, I'm beginning to understand. Do what I can to help feed the hungry, cloth the naked, and care for orphans and widows. And that means everyone? And I'm to tell them about You? And, . . .yes, Lord? You say that if I stay close to You I won't get lost?

Frances Simpson is a pastor's wife and freelance writer in Charlotte, North Carolina.