Thursday, August 27, 2009

Fictional Dream

Last night I had a dream. I'm standing in repose at the end of a road that has been long and trying. I can remember every day of that journey.

The pain. The tears. The agony. And my repose slowly turns.

But scattered among those memories are small glimmers of goodness.

A hope here. A laugh there. A hug ever so seldom, but sovereign.

Now that I'm at the end of this thing I'm curious to know what is next. I'm standing with cracked teeth and calloused heels asking my Maker "What did all that mean? Because I'm still hurting. I'm still broken. I'm further along on this road, that's for damn sure! But, for what? What have I done?"

The next moment in the dream is something that I've wanted for so long it hurts to think it. A burst of light knocks me down. I've never felt a light. It was hot and it was painful. The deafening effect of it all is what terrified me. I could hear the voice of every man that's ever lived. Some crying in pain, some shouting for joy. Others were whispering softly their love to another, while some were just breathing.

Imagine listening to 4,000,000 people breathing in unison. Imagine how that would pierce your ears.

I held on tightly as the light of all men rushed past me. It lasted for what seemed like an eternal second. Maybe a day. Maybe 4 minutes. But once it passed, on the other side was the repose I was missing. Once it passed, I could see Heaven. I could see Eden. The garden was beyond what I could describe. It left me breathless and I collapsed. While I was sobbing in the soil a Hand reached to me and lifted. He was a kind faced man. I've never felt more in love with someone I had never seen. But I had seen Him. Something about His face felt like home. His Hand around mine was too familiar to reject as new.

And then my repose turned to realization. Then to rejoicing.

My Lord had no answers for me. He had no words to settle all the questions in my head about the last 84 years of my life. And there were so many. Instead, all He had was a Hand. And once it held me, it was over. All the agony. All the crying. All the seldomness of good. It was finished.

And I was home.

1 comment:

  1. James, that was beautiful.
    One time (the only time I've ever been constipated) I had this dream where I was with the Daili Lamma and we were driving around on a golf course, in an ice cream truck, throwing fecal matter at all of the passersby!