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Posts Tagged ‘dreams’

A gift from God, a light for my soul on a dark day.  I awoke in a place with a shopping cart at my waist, similar in appearance to one you would find in a large hardware store.  This place didn’t sell wood though.  My basket on my first glance is filled full of goodies—all things I love, yet had never laid eyes on before.  I tend to fancy old things, things that other people once loved and treasured, I find great mystery to them.  An antique quilt that was so heavy and soft lay in my cart.  I imagined someones grandmother making it, spending days on end stitching each piece tenderly in her soft hands.  I touch each design in the pattern, marveling at how intriquite it really is.  I see golden threads that sparkle, it looks ancient-but new at the same time.  I try to remember when golden thread was invented and cant.  It’s delicate and sincere.  I place it back in the buggy, certain in my heart beyond anything that I want it, but not sure of the price tag it carries. None the less, I carry on to the next thing.  I look up and see high and low, items that are immaculate in description, any of which I would cherish, but certain they all cost a small fortune.  I see isles and isles of beautiful and sparkling things. I stop by a wall of candles.  The aroma’s so pleasant you could gobble them up, I place a couple in my cart unable to choose a favorite, I just close my eyes and pick one.  There’s suddenly a chandelier in my cart.  It’s huge!  It’s covered in sparkly jewels.  The gleam is so bright I blink my eyes and bend to touch it.  This is something I must have, but what could the price be for such an exquisite beauty? More than I could ever imagine– I’m certain of that.  I decide to just keep it in my buggy for another isle at least, so I can stare at it from time to time.  Each turn is filled with more and more wonderful finds, my heart is racing, my eyes wide and my buggy full to the rim.  I find my head swirling with emotion and telling myself, “I want all of these things!  Things that I cant afford—what a fool to even think it?”  I can’t decide on just one item.  I feel a bit sad and unworthy for a moment. Then,  I see some doors that are arched and beautifully sculpted straight ahead.  I decide to venture through them just to see what is beyond them. This is Impossible!!  I see to my astonishment spectacular mazes of foliage.  Eye candy for the flower freak.  Every direction this way and that, up and down is vivid color.  I’ve never in my small life seen such things as these.  “Are those daisies?” couldn’t be.  I have to swallow.  They are adorned with colorful petals-each to its own amazing color, with heads as big as my own!!  I cant even breathe.  Acres upon acres of miracles, none that man nor beast have ever had the pleasure of finding.  The fragrance is exhilarating, filling the air like a soft cloud.  Finally, overwhelmed, a tear stains my face.  I realize in my mind that there is no way I can afford any of these wonderful things, and there is no way to make a decision about it.  With my head bowed and now turning to a small sob, I start to unload my buggy.  My fingers slipping over each precious item as I release it back to the shelves where they belong.  I see something though that totally catches my attention.  A hot Pink and cream  colored rose with magnificent variegated leaves.  Its spectacular in fragrance and looks.  But its so tender, so innocent, no thorns in sight, the price may be something that I  could afford, but there are no tags or price signs anywhere in this place.  My eyes search for someone.  Surely there are workers in this wonderful place?  Who cares for all of these charming things, who dusts the myriads of isles, cleans these finely polished floors, tends to these gardens?  The structure of this building itself is amazing—who crafted this fine arcquitecture?  Finally two ladies,(I say “ladies” because only ladies look this gentle and kind, not “women”)approach me.  I think they are so sweet, even though I don’t know them personally.  Their hair styles are reminiscent of older times, swirls this way and that, bouffant.  Sheer works of art, their hair.  One is slender and tall, her dress swirling about her ankles, taffeta and fine lace in a creamy golden beige.  The other lady is squatty and soft with a glowing smile that sets her apart.  She has such a tiny face, one you could just squeeze because its so cute.  She holds out a hand, and swirls it around in the air about to talk.  She points up and down, high and low and swirls herself all around.  Before she speaks the two of them giggle as though someone said something funny to them and they just got the punchline.  Joy, I thought, its what they both have and its something I desperately crave.  I could barely contain myself as they two of them in unison explained to me that all of the things that I could see, even outdoors belonged to me.  They told me that the Lord had this place made in my honor—to fill my mansion in heaven with.  And the acres of flowers, tree’s and shrubs?  They were  to fill my gardens to my hearts content.  They would never fade, nor die.  They were disease resistant and free from troubling weeds.  Those pesky things that entered into the garden when sin came in.  I look at these sweet ladies, like shining grannies, with over-flowing joy.  I couldn’t ever, never think that this could all possibly be mine, could I?  But where was God, so that I could go and thank Him myself?  I wanted nothing more than at that moment to fall at His feet and kiss Him.  But instead I woke up.  I desperately tried to cling to the memories, to those precious moments in my dream.  I wanted to go back, I wanted to see what was next, I didn’t want to wake up at all.  I knew that I knew, right now at this moment the Lord was up there stockpiling goodies for me—somewhere that only my dreams could take me for now.  But someday, I’ll really get to go back to that place and finish what I started there for real.

To be continued:

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