I have been sunk in a deep blue funk...all because of a dream. Like most dreams, it makes very little sense, especially upon close examination. But the feelings it evoked...those were real. Real enough to bring tears to my eyes at the memory.
In the dream, I'd arrived at my alma mater in Indiana, a place I know from its frequent appearances in my dreams symbolizes peace to me. I was going to study and visit old friends.
I lugged my luggage into the dormitory where I'd lived for 4 years, and stopped at the desk...but they had no room assigned to me. In fact, they didn't know why I was there.
Worse, the people I'd come to see did not want me there. I saw it all plainly: I was too old to take classes, ridiculous and foolish among the giggling youngsters the school now belonged to. I climbed the stairs and found an unlocked room where I hid. I did not go down for meals. I did not turn on the lights. I just wanted to be there.
At last I faced facts, packed my things (which had grown inexplicably heavier and more awkward), and began the long walk down the cold marble stairs, flight after flight, out the great glass double doors of Le Fer Hall, down and down and down into the Shakespeare Garden, then off down the road to the bus station to begin my long trip home. Cast out of paradise.
I try to be a good person, and I believe in a world after this one, a better one. But I also know I'm not nearly good enough. I'm selfish and afraid. What if God finds me as lacking as I am found in my dream?
In my heart of hearts, I fear He will. I would. I do, every day. To lose perfect peace in a dream is one thing; to lose an eternity with God, by whatever name you call it, would be unbearable. My dream gave me a taste of that loss, and I did not like it.
These are the things that keep me awake at night.
It's Not You... It's Me
It's not that I don't
believe in You.
I just don't believe in me.
You are all,
and I am nothing,
so how can I get
from here to there?
The span between is endless,
and if I fall,
an eternity of emptiness awaits.
Today I start climbing.
I will never stop
as long as You believe
I can make it.
posted by Susan DiamondThe word DOG is GOD spelled backward. My dog Orchid is God-like. She is loving, wise and protective. Orchid is like a flower—feminine and beautiful! She is a 40-pound soft-coated longhaired Wheaton Terrier. Most owners of Wheatons cut their dog’s coat. We decided to keep Orchid au natural as she ...
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