Thursday, August 18, 2011

this dimension

It seems as though I'm standing on the other side of an invisible but very effective barrier.  When I use all the words my mind can conjure to explain my thrilling adventure of immense love and blessings that my daily walking and talking to my Lord produces, I receive in return deadpan stares and conversations of ordinary speech just as if they cannot hear my words at all, or see the overflowing love and thrilling excitement in my eyes.  I often want to say, "did you not hear what I just said?".  And I'm puzzled.  What is wrong with them?
It's another dimension, another existence, simultaneously present in the same time and place and yet completely removed, distant and foreign.

"I'm still me!"  I want to scream.  I still speak understandably.  I still walk and smile and dream and feel understandably.  I still drive and shop and sleep and cry (but not often to this one).  And yet I've changed dimensions.  It was almost imperceptible.  And it progressed slowly through the years.  I don't know how many really, except to say that I do know the beginning point.  Some years, I changed drastically, and some years almost not at all.

But I don't remember when "they" began to "not hear me".  People.  People who know me.  People who knew me then.  People who know me now.  When did I begin speaking in a way that was foreign to them?  Why can't they comprehend this joy?  Why don't they understand this love that makes my heart explode in wave upon wave of inexplicable joyous, thrilling, . . . .?

Then I meet someone on this side of the barrier.  I can tell which side they are on even before they begin speaking.  I see it.  Their eyes are like Light itself.  And the crinkles at the side of their eyes are permanently crinkled.  They can't help it.  It's inside them.  Just as it is in me.  Immediately, I know.  And they know.  And we smile.  We don't explain anything.  It's already understood.  It's comfortable.  It's soooooooo peaceful.  And if we have time, we share.  The stories are so plenteous.  We ALL have them.  And they happen EVERY DAY!  We LIVE in miracles.  We exist in the amazing, unexplainable wonder of . . . . Blessing.

I still do my best.  I try to explain it to those on the "other" side.  I use all the words.  I use my hands to talk.  I use my arms to talk.  I use everything I can think of.  Until . . . . I just run out.  I ask them to come.  It's so simple.  And that's when it starts.  Questions.  Accusations.  Suspicions. . . . . . darkness.  The light begins to dim.  And slowly I find myself in foggy, misty, dusty clouds.  I don't like it.  Soon I just leave.  Is this where I used to live?  Hmmm.  Wow.  I don't like it over there.  It's not a nice place.

A moment of distance.  A moment of quiet.  I reach up.  THERE!  OH, my beautiful, wonderful, loving Light!  You haven't left!  Thank you so much for living in here with me . . . or I should say . . . for letting me live in here with You!  I love it here!  And I will never leave.  Never.
Jesus!  My Light!  You will never leave me or forsake me.