The dream illusion

I’m swimming in a huge deep dark ocean. It’s blue, dark blue with little glimpses of white rays now and again. It’s not pitch black, for which I am so deeply grateful. I’m not sinking. I’m not floating. I’m not moving much but more observing everything. But there’s nothing here in this dark ocean and yet I see arms, faces, eyes… and I’m not scared. I may be lonely down here but it feels good, for I am not alone. I feel at peace here and not fearful. I don’t want to swim deeper down, but I have no desire to reach the surface. Here, I can breath. Sometimes I hear friendly loving voices. Accepting voices, encouraging voices. I love the voices. But I can’t hear from where they come. Up or down. But the second I listen and try to move toward the voices, I begin to sink and fear closes in. I frantically look around into the depth and withs of this deep dark blue ocean and instantly an arm of safety appears. I can grab it and the second I touch, I stop sinking and I know the voices are wonderful but they are not my refuge, my anchor or my rope.

I’m resting in this dark blue ocean in gratutide and peace. It’s dark because it’s an ocean of grief. It’s the season for grief. But it’s not pitch black because grief is beautiful. Mourning the love I wish to give to someone who can no longer receive it. I see the rays of light shining through. I hear voices of love. But my refuge, rescue, peace and anchor for my soul is the arm of Jesus. I can’t know for how long I will need this rest for my soul, because time is an illusion and incomprehensible to me. One day when He knows I’m ready to enter back into the world of distractions, He will gently lift me to the surface.

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