I promised to share a dream that has stayed with me. Maybe it helps explain why I’ve been putting so much energy into involving children and young adults in our Go Forth initiatives.

Now, Charlie founded CORAC and has spoken about mystical direction and visitors from Heaven. I fell asleep during Magnum P.I. reruns and had myself a basic dream.

Consider it an overworked brain. But couldn’t my subconscious have arranged a Ferrari, a Hawaiian estate, and a mustache with its own agent? Instead, it handed me a youth recruitment initiative. Even unconscious, I can’t get away from CORAC stuff.

There Was More Going On in the House

In the dream, I entered an old mansion, probably built around the 1920s. It must have been elegant in its day. The exterior was getting rundown, but inside were lovely period furnishings and lighting.

CORAC people were gathered there, talking, sharing specialty skills, and enjoying food and refreshments.

One older gal sat in a period chair, holding forth about subjects she considered of the utmost interest to CORAC. They reminded me of some of the news and commentary circulating through our Water Cooler group: plenty to discuss, with little anyone present could actually do about it.

Apparently, even asleep, I still have opinions about Signal chats.

I wandered back into the spacious foyer and followed a long hallway curving toward the other side of the house.

It led to a small theater where young people were putting on some kind of production. Two girls, probably junior high age, handed me a flyer.

They had something underway, and they were happy to let me to know about it.

What stayed with me was how naturally they belonged there. They had something to contribute, and I was the one being invited in.

Beyond the theater, I stepped into a side yard with newer playground equipment. Happy children were playing, full of energy.

Following the sidewalk toward the front, I noticed someone had given the house a fresh coat of deep red paint.

How nice, I thought. Someone had seen to that.

But closer inspection revealed older wood peeking through. It was a bit of a whitewash. The house still needed work.

The Last Home Standing

Then I became more aware of the surroundings.

Run-down commercial buildings stood all around the mansion. It was as though this was the last home standing in the neighborhood.

This was in the urban heart of the city. The house stood right in the middle of everything that needed work.

Across the street, a large, muscled guy was taking a sledgehammer to the foundation of a dilapidated building.

I remember thinking he had his work cut out for him because he was barely chipping away at it.

Then I woke up.

The setting struck me too. That house was in the urban heart of the city, surrounded by things that needed work. The people inside were building community right there.

Charlie does well to warn against imagining that our task is to flee complications, find some quiet refuge, and wait out the troubles. Moving somewhere rural doesn’t remove the call to love and serve our neighbors.

Of course, some of our members already live in rural communities. They have neighbors, needs, and opportunities right where they are too. Nobody needs to go hunting for a more impressive place to serve.

The premise is simple: do the little good you can, right in front of you, wherever God has placed you.

In my dream, that happened to be an old house in the middle of a deteriorating city. The house was a place to belong, with work to do beyond its front door.

Why It Stayed With Me

Let’s face it, many of us are well past our youth. And at this point, I don’t even care to guess at our average age.

Still, there is considerable experience among us: faith, practical knowledge, hard-earned judgment, and skills worth passing on. There are also physical limitations, diminishing energy, and social circles that have grown smaller.

I sometimes get frustrated trying to build momentum with our Go Forth. But I think many other members get frustrated too. They want to contribute and wonder how much they can realistically manage.

Telling someone to try harder does very little for a worn-out back and trick knee.

That is part of why I keep looking for ways to involve younger people. We have work to do, and they have gifts to bring.

I want younger people to find friendships, encouragement, and a place to use those gifts among us. The work gives us a way to begin those relationships and build a sense of belonging.

In the dream, someone had made room for them. Someone had made room for children too. Amid all that deterioration, there was newer playground equipment and life around it.

A Skill, a Connection, an Opening

I’ve seen small versions of this happen.

The Bosco Junior Trades Squad began with a neighborhood girl watering our plants. It grew into kids earning money, managing responsibilities, recruiting friends, and becoming better known to their neighbors.

My daughter’s upcoming parish hair-care day began with a renewed friendship. Someone recognized her skill and knew women who could benefit from it. My daughter arranged a Saturday, then invited coworkers to help.

Neither effort required an older person to supply all the energy or carry every responsibility. A few connections and modest opportunities gave younger people room to get moving.

That is work many of us can still do.

You may know the parish contact, the neighbor who needs help, the teenager looking for work, or the person who could teach a useful skill. What seems like an ordinary introduction to you might open a door someone younger has been looking for.

Then comes the harder part: letting them take responsibility without appointing yourself committee chair of everything they do.

More Than a Fresh Coat

I was glad someone had painted the house. Somebody cared enough to attend to it. But the older wood was still showing through.

There was something worth preserving there, and work still needed doing. What gave me hope was finding young people already participating in its life.

That is what I’d like to see more of in CORAC. Older members making connections and passing along what they know. Younger people bringing their gifts, forming friendships, and taking responsibility. Each discovering something useful in the other.

I don’t expect every older member to swing a sledgehammer. An introduction, a little instruction, or the confidence to trust someone with a job can set plenty in motion.

Those girls in the theater had a production underway and a flyer to put in my hand. They belonged there, they had something to offer, and they wanted me to be part of it.

My Final Takeaway

It’s not enough to promise younger people the keys to this old house someday. It will flourish when they know they belong here now—when we welcome their gifts, trust them with real work, and rebuild together.