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.

I’ll make fun of your Super Bowl, but you can’t make fun of my Spock ears
Free phone wasn’t worth keeping,
Head and heart don’t agree about love, including Valentine’s Day
We can’t defeat the existing system; we must build a better one instead
Dear Donald Trump: Want a deal? You can buy my transcripts cheap
Competent, beautiful girl mirrors what I’d love to have in daughter
Donald Trump is an evil man, but his political enemies are evil, too
They can’t get anybody high, but Smarties are latest ‘drug craze’
My pride and insecurity make it difficult for me to live in humility