.
.
I slept most of the night, and well. Until the dreams. All I have left is the notion that the two women I love most dearly are going to Hell. Not by my judgment, not because I hope this, not because I want this, but almost as much because I do not want it to happen. Nothing I do or say, no act of leadership or love, and no amount of prayer can change this. And the certainty, in the dreams at least, that I am dying and have very little time left to do anything but find a quiet place to rest for the final chapter haunted me to wakefulness, pain, and tears.
In many ways, I hope part of the dreams are true. I am so very weak and tired that death would be a gentle gift. I will carry on if this is not to be, and I will do what I may and what I am called to do. But dying carries no threats to me now. I have done my best to submit to my true Lord, I have done what I may to seek forgiveness, I have become ready to die when called, for the most part and within my capacities. I have faith, now, to live or die.
But the rest of the dream rips me apart like nothing else could. To be without some people in heaven, should that be where my faith leads me, is so harsh. But I cannot force them out of the damning waters and onto dry land and then into the heights where safety and life is perpetual. They reject my guidance to live within the pleasures and illusions of the world they see to be the only truth. They seem incapable or unwilling to acknowledge God, goodness, or reject sin.
It is not that I am sinless. It is not that I am Christlike. I cannot turn water to wine, walk on water, resurrect the dead, or even heal the sick. But I can see Who knows the way. I can hear what He has to say, if my faults do not always allow me to hear precisely or to follow perfectly, if too when I find myself lost I know Who to turn toward for guidance. And I believe without reservations. I have no doubts in Him, if I understand my feet often want to walk the other way, my eyes seek to lust, and my hand seeks what is not mine. That I cannot seem to share this or exemplify it shatters me to prayer. A prayer that if I am doing something wrong in my way that I may be shown how to lift my curse so they may see. So harsh, so real, so devastating. And yet, my faith is not shaken and I must carry on.
The new day dawns but tears occasionally tumble down. I will, indeed, carry on. Today is Sunday, I will not work but I believe I will make a good attempt to make it to Church. I live so long without schedules that having to be some place at a specific time is difficult. My exhaustion, though lifting a bit, is still around. I need Church now, more than ever. I suppose Church is a place where tears may be let, yet I would rather none see them. These are mine and Gods. I am a man, for the most part.
I often wonder why I remember so little of my dreams and so rarely.
ReplyDeletePerhaps that is not always a bad thing.
May today bring you peace and tonight comfort in a quiet sleep.
Thanks Jean. I am not sure if not ever remembering is good or bad, if today was a bit harsh. I know I am seeking peace today. Kind words do help.
ReplyDeleteThat was one of the most profoundly elemental visions of faith I've read in years. I pray that you find peace, in your quest for what is good in all of us.
ReplyDeleteI understand, I'm prone to jealousy and covetousness. lust (well I do have red hair), envy and sometimes, though not acted upon, delightful vindictiveness. Does it show? Now, it's there in dark currents underneath the placid pond. But it's there. I live with doing the best I can, in providing some element of safety for those that still walk, by learning from the flames. I breathe, I look up. I may doubt, but I'm always assured.
Doom, remember that Jesus said if we lift Him up, the Holy Spirit will draw all men (and women) to Him. That has often been solace to me, as I follow Him, often imperfectly, as a man.
ReplyDeleteThe Way is straight, as we so often go astray. But as you wrote, He's there to lift us out of the ditch, and back onto the road.
Be of good cheer, for He has overcome the world, and is calling us onward, to Him.
Brigid,
ReplyDeleteHmm, red hair does it for you, too? *grins* I have to say, I am not asking for people to be sinless. I am not wanting them to become pure doves. I merely want people to accept that there is sin. And, having done that, figure out how to live, and eventually die, safer from it. Those who do not find a remedy live such miserable lives, regardless of how free they say or think they are. That just gets me.
I hope my faith does move you, and others. In spite of my other failings, if this one gift can touch and move people in the right way, I think I could live with just that. My faith, now, carries me forward when all else fails.
Rev. Paul,
I will have to keep that in mind. There are so many who are so close yet who refuse to take that last step. I understand, it took me a great deal of time myself. For me, I think it was fear of what I might find, what I might need to surrender, or how I might find myself compelled to change. On the inside, now, I realize that all of those things were sadly mistaken. The changes and surrender has been gradual and so uplifting as is the touch of grace.
So, I will continue to offer what I may and be settled to also let them come to me. Chasing any goal perpetually is a mistake, taking time off allows the goal to come back to us I think. Thanks for your encouragement.