Once again, I woke up from a dream, and stumbled to the
old flower and fairy filled machine, turned it on, and went on
to the water rooms, one to fill, the other to take away...
I shall return refreshed and relieved,instantly.and, I am back.
Oh, what a marvelous machine this is. I can relate to you the
feelings and impressions of this nights dreams, and go into
great detail, taking ever so long in doing so, but when you call
it up on your machine, there it will be, complete, in an instant,
done, with no time lost.You won't have to sit and wait while
I hark back through the mists of my still sleepy brain, to call
forth the thought to bring the next word into being. How
marvelous is that?
So, I shall get on with it,at your mental urgings.
My day was most extraordinary. After each time of ingesting
even a small morsel of food, and whatever task I needed to
perform,a great weary feeling would overtake me, and nothing
could prevent me from falling asleep. Sometimes just where
I sat. Sometimes, I actually made it to my bed first.After a
short time, 2 hours or less, I would wake, and attempt to go
on with my day.The dream, you see, was calling to me.
This happened 3 or 4 times throughout the day.I am not sure
how many, because after a while, it all runs together.But, at
last the day was done, night was falling, and most of the tasks
I had set for myself, were accomplished.
We had our time of worship, our evening meal, and then set
about to enjoy some relaxing amusement. A game, if you will.
No sooner had we set about to do that, when I felt the "call"
once more. I resisted.I opened my eyes the wider, and thought
briefly of using toothpicks to prop them open. I reached for
iced tea, and drank deep.But the feeling grew. I yawned and
shook my head, but I was already starting to nod off for a few
seconds, and then waking up again.It was no use. I
surrendered, and went to my bed.The last I recall, I heard
the telephone ring, and my friend being announced. It was
too late.No inducement would bring me back from my "nest",
my bed, which had already started to spin. The music began,
and as the feathers popped out all over me, I began to rise,
right up through the cieling, up over the roof, into the air,
headed for the clouds.My wings unfurreled, and bloomed up
over my head, out of my shoulders and back, I righted, and
began to fly.The beauty that I percieved was immeasurable,
as was my delight. As always. With each beat of my wings
I praised GOD for this call, the gift of flying, if only in my
dreams, and each flutter took me that much closer to the
clouds. Yet, still I felt the cool rush of wind against my cheek,
and my long heavy hair was lifted and cooled off the back of
my neck,for that is how all encompassingly true are my
dreams of flying. How real.
I looked down over the darkened landscape, and saw the lights
going on, here and there, and towards each one, I broadcast
the thought, praise God, for his mercy endureth forever.
It was not my idea. It was what came to me to project, and
I did,without hesitation, without thought, knowing it to be
the right thing to do.I flew for a long time, a long distance.
As is usual in my dreams, I know not where I go, and I know
not why. I have only a limited number of impressions left in
my memory of the last part, and I believe that is by HIS
design and will. Sometimes, I will have a lasting, strong
recall of going into the throne room, and climbing on my
heavenly fathers lap, and him holding me, and telling me
he loves me. I twine my arms about his neck, and hold him
close all but weeping for the loveliness of it all...and then,
it is time to go back, and as I leave the throne room, I see
myself as he sees me, a little child, in a pink tu-tu running
across that bright shinning floor,tangled curls flowing out as
I go, and then turning back to wave one more time at the door,
but on the other side, I am myself again.
Once more I am flying, and sometime during that flight home,
I lurch up, out of my bed, sometimes coughing, sometimes
struggling to breathe, nearly always sweaty and with an almost
desperate urge to get to my machine,and recall as much of
my dream as possible.Memory is a peculiar thing. Always
I wake with a sense of satisfaction, (beyond the breathing
problem) that I had fullfilled my purpose. Rarely do I know
just exactly what that purpose was. Which is no different from
our waking life.All of us, every day, perform tasks, sometimes
all unknowing how it will effect those about us, as the drop in
the pool that sends ripples out. You accomplish tasks, set for
you, either for good, or for evil, that will cause certain ends,
and some of you know who your master is that sets these tasks,
and some of you don't. Most, do not know, nor care who, or
what...
So, I set before you this message. Choose this day which will
be your master, and whether you will serve good or evil.
The time is coming, and now is, when you must choose.
We all are allowed one life, one chance to make this choice.
Please, don't waste it. You choose where you will spend
ETERNITY.
Oui?
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