Sunday, April 24, 2011
A New Light
Fragments of the dream follow me into waking. During that space of time when I'm not fully in either world, I feel the fear and urgency as though they need to be attended to in the daylight. While unsettling, the feelings and images are not new. This dream comes to me often.
It's always dark, nighttime, and I'm always searching for something, on my way somewhere, needing to meet a timeline, none of which I'm ever successful at. The circumstances shift from dream to dream. In this one I'm in danger and being hunted. The people who are after me want to hurt me, maybe even kill me, at the very least imprison me. I'm with a male companion who is trying to help hide me. We're outside, concealed in a hole in the ground, and then in the way of dreams, I'm suddenly standing alone in an empty field surrounded by the night, the sound of my own frightened heart and the distant voices of those who mean me harm.
Because the day was sunny and promised all the gifts of true spring, I shook off the dream. Frustrated at not ever quite understanding its message to me, and determined not to allow the darkness of it to dim the light of the rare day, I proceeded with my morning routine.
Sitting at my computer, reading my favorite daily message, the end of the dream flashed through my consciousness with all the illumination of a shooting star.
I'm standing in the darkness alone, and then I feel a presence that I know without doubt is God. Only this isn't the God of my childhood or many of the churches where I've sought him in my life.
I had the opportunity last week to share my story with an older woman. Of the many great questions she asked were, "What about God's love? Where was that? When in your life did you feel it?" And I realized that the most honest answer I could give her was that I'd never felt it. Because at a very young age I believed I'd ruined my chances to deserve anything but God's wrath and disappointment.
In the dream, for the first time, I feel the love of that presence. Without words it tells me that no matter what happens to me, even if those men catch me and hurt me, I will be okay. Nothing can happen to separate me from the protection and completeness of his love. I feel like I belong. I know the safety and protection from pain I've spent my life seeking are illusion, and that true safety, the exact rightness of my being in the larger scheme of things, has been there all along.
It's been two days. The new awareness persists. Evidence supports the new knowing. Yesterday Julie, who from time to time offers visions that come to her during a massage, saw this picture: An Indian woman standing on the edge of a canyon, a long loose braid hanging down her back, watches an eagle soaring in the updrafts close by. The feeling of the scene is one of freedom and peace and connection with all living things.
The curtains have shifted. New light shines in. The darkness will never again hold quite the same power.