Monday, May 1, 2017

Dream Weaver...Can You Get Me Through the Night?

When I arrived, the funeral home's parking lot was filled to overflowing. Cars were jammed along the curbs, in the grass, and beside whatever tiny strips of space that could be found. I finally wedged my Ford between a cluster of vehicles behind the building.

I shut the ignition off and squeezed my way out of the car.  I arrived too late to hike around to the main entrance, so, squinting in the bright sunshine, I zigzagged my way to the nearest door, which happened to be a beat-up, utilitarian-looking, backdoor entrance. 

I grabbed the knob and flung the door open. There was no corpse, no visitors, no serious-looking-men-in-black suits. It was just a room...just a small, quiet, empty room with a counter that divided me from the other side.

As I stood surveying the chamber, the door opposite me suddenly opened, flooding the place with bright light. In it, I could see the image of a janitor, who had entered the room, pushing a mop.

The image seemed surreal. The janitor seemed unaware of the brilliance surrounding him. Instead, he humbly stayed focused on mopping the floor. He didn't even seem to realize that I was there.

I was drawn to him. I felt like I knew him forever. He radiated love.

For an instant, I stood in awe, trembling at the scene. I was captivated by the radiance, the overpowering love, the humility and the familiarity of his presence.

Then I realized - this was my deceased brother! What? Had he come back to life? My heart leapt for joy.

"Jim," I shouted.

He never looked up. It was like he couldn't hear me. It was like he couldn't see me. He just quietly went about doing his work.

It was my brother! He was alive! But how could it be?

"Jim!' I shouted again.

He looked up. In one unforgettable moment, our eyes met. He uttered one word: "Deb." 

My pulse quickened. I kicked my way across the room, trying to get a reaction from him. He was way too calm.

I was still thrashing the bedcovers when I awoke. 

"Jim, Jim," I was saying.

The vision, unlike any other dream I've even had, rocked me to the core. My brother appeared to me after his death, in the form of a simple janitor pushing a mop. He was radiant, humble and at peace.

Why? I wondered. What was he trying to tell me? It was real.

In time, the message became clear: With God, we are here to serve others. With God, there is no darkness, only stunning light and wondrous love. With God, we are peaceful and serene. 

Some things in life you never forget. This is one of them.

1 comment:

  1. What a powerful testimony. Thank you for posting this. As always your stories are such an encouragement


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