I knew I was dead, but I wasn’t upset about that. I just felt shame that I didn’t have more to show for the life I had left behind.
This was different from any dream I’ve ever had. It felt more real than anything from waking life. At times, it was more beautiful and loving than anything I’ve experienced on this Earth. At other times, it was painful and I felt shame.
But I was asleep — and I’m not dead — so it had to be a dream.
This was the second time lately that I’ve dreamed about my death. The first time, I just dreamed that I had died. I saw my body as though I was a spirit who had left it. But the second time — this past Saturday night — was much more than that. It was a dream about meeting God and talking about the life I had left behind.
I was in the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, but I can’t describe it. The scene was dominated, though, by an intense light that was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It was brighter than any light I’ve experienced, but it didn’t hurt my eyes to look at it.
From that light, I felt what 19th century minister Charles Finney called “waves and waves of liquid love.” I felt small. I felt ashamed of my inadequacy. But I knew that this Creator of all the universe loved me unconditionally. I knew that this place was my home.
Question the ‘experts’: They don’t know as much as they think
Whether it makes sense or not, I’ve learned to expect miracles
I was a terrible preacher, because cookie-cutter truth seemed empty
I am angry that life doesn’t work the way I once learned it should
Fear of potential loss is a terrible reason to stay in the wrong place
Briefly: Groups which don’t understand each other are bound to have conflict
Briefly: Artifacts from childhood can remind us where we came from
Briefly: Retired teacher from Mass.: ‘It is an act of insanity to stay in the U.S.’