January 20, 2018: 1 a.m.
I had been asleep for about an hour when I was awakened by a dream that was breathtaking in its carnality. The physical excitement, the adrenaline, the temptation lingered way too long. It was shocking to me, and it frankly filled me with fear and dread. I began to ask the Lord to take it away, but I was reminded of a revelation that I had received a couple of days ago: that even though the Lord’s forgiveness for our sins is free and immediate, we have to let the sin go, and we do that by replacing it with virtue, or charity – replace the darkness with light. As our soul fills with light, there is no room for sin, but we have to invite the light, that it might push out the darkness. This is OUR part of the process. It is the fruit of repentance.
As I remembered the revelation, it appeared. There are so many contradictions in the following description, but somehow they are not contradictory, but are, instead, completely harmonious. I say it appeared, but I didn’t see anything. I just knew it was there – just out of my reach. It was the Christ. It wasn’t Jesus, it was the Christ within Jesus. It was something that I knew I had the capability of knowing, of comprehending, of being. It was goodness, and perfection, and compassion, and love, and charity. It was something that I knew was the essence of Jesus, of the Father, even of the Godhead – whatever form that actually takes. I also knew that it was ultimately the essence of me, but that somehow I had to reach out and take that essence into me, to receive it as me. I had to know it. I knew somehow that this was what was meant by knowing Christ. I knew that this was the fruit of the tree of life. It was there, it is there, and it is waiting for me to partake of it.
After about 30 minutes, I got up and approached this on my knees. I continued my struggle (many things came into my mind, including Jacob’s wrestling with the Lord) to partake of this Christ, this fruit of the tree of life, this essence of the divine. I knew that this was just that – the essence of what it means to be divine. I tried to reach out and grab it and pull it to me, to absorb it into my own being. To some extent, I think I was successful, because I sort of feel like it’s part of me; that while there is still more to know – I feel like I can know it, and I desire to know it, more deeply and fully – I now at least know that it exists. I sense it, I feel it, I have knowledge of it, and I know that it is there for me to take onto me; into me; to become me. It is now part of my consciousness, and I can judge everything that exists against it because I sort of know what it is. I can tell if something is in harmony with it, or if it is not. I can tell if something is part of it, or if it is in conflict with it – whether some thought or action (actions, of course, being derivative of thought) would be absorbed harmoniously or be rejected by it as disharmonious.
In my effort to know it, I began to try to sense it using my senses. To the touch, it was at once silky soft and smooth, while at the same time hard and firm, unyielding, like the proverbial rock on which we are to build our house. To the taste, it was sweet; well, at least I knew it was sweet beyond sweetness, although I can’t say I actually tasted it, I just knew that it was so sweet that it would fill my soul. To the smell, it was fresh, clean, crisp – like going out on a winter morning when the temperature is about 15 degrees and the skies are clear, and new snow blankets the ground and everything is just completely free of pollution. Its sound was like that of a soft, perpetual breeze but also like powerful rushing waters – both at the same time. It was peaceful but powerful, non-threatening but invincible and undeniable. To my sight, it was simply inviting. Fuzzy, soft, kind of like a multidimensional hourglass with a dark band around the middle. It was something easily penetrated, like a huge, billowy parachute that would absorb you, but also, like I’ve said, giving off a sense of pure, perfect power.
But there was another sense involved in my knowing of this Christ, this essence of the divine – perhaps an infinite number of senses; of forms of knowledge. It was like I somehow knew of the essence of all things. This essence of all things was contained in that soft, hard, sweet, fresh, clean, silent, powerful, billowy, amorphous existence. It was divine, but it wasn’t separate or unapproachable. It was mine, and it was Christ’s, and it belonged to the universe. I knew somehow that when I knew this, ,when I had made it me, that I would be one with Christ, and in harmony with the essence of the creation of all things divine, because somehow all things are divine, and that divinity was contained in this essence of which I now am aware.
I have much work to do, I think. I have to make this divine essence me, not part of me, but me. Somehow I know that doing so is redemption, sanctification, partaking of the fruit of the tree of life…it is eternal life. This perfection, this goodness, this righteousness, this love – it is real, and it is at the heart of all things. Once it fills me, there will be no room for anything else. It is light, and it will push out any darkness that I may be continuing to tolerate within me. The yearning that I felt, the desire that I felt – the need to make it part of me, to let it fill me, that was somehow me, the essence of me. It was the fulfillment of the measure of my creation. I saw it, I knew it, it was there. It is there! I know it now. I have seen it. I have felt it, touched it, smelled it, heard it, tasted it. I have known it and it knows me, and it waits for me to be one with it, heck it expects me to be one with it, because somehow it will not be complete until I am…until we all… are one with it.
So many things are coming together. I stand all amazed.