I had planned to continue discussing and exploring the meaning of faith. That will happen later. Now, there are times when the profound occurs. That has happened and I am compelled to write about it and to tell about it.
I woke up this morning from a dream. I was compelled to get up and record what I had seen and experienced because it was a Holy dream, a Holy event and time had occurred. To me it actually happed like I had seen it. I had been a witness to Jesus and to His time of leaving here.
I rose and turned on the computer, not stopping to check email, my daily comics, not even the news, to read what terrible events were occurring in our world. A pot of coffee was started because I wanted a mug of the soothing drink in an earthenware or stoneware mug. I will take time and choose just such a mug because I am sharing this story with those who were not able to come and join this dream and be here for this event. This cup of coffee is one of those warm events shared by friends over coffee after all.
This dream occurred near Houston, down close to Interstate 10. The land and surrounding were scrub trees, tall grass and patches of oak and pine trees. It was now, modern times, not back near 0 A.D., not near Jerusalem. But He was here, walking with us just as real as He walked in those days.
Somehow, all of us who knew Him had felt called to gather near Him from wherever we were and from whatever we were doing, come, something important is about to happen, you are summoned. And we each knew that Jesus was leaving, that His time had come to an end to be with us. And we stopped wherever we were, left whatever we were doing, and we came and gathered. It was quiet, solemn, yet love permeated the event.
Strangely, Jesus did not look modern. He wore the long off-white robe, had the long hair and beard. His eyes were still clear and shining, piercing, able to penetrate wherever He looked, and we each knew He was looking into our hearts and minds.
One by one we were each called to walk with Him, into the field of scrub trees and brush, the path winding as Jesus and I walked, He talked and we were quiet. Quiet because we each knew what was happening, It was time for Him to go and leave this earth, this place and time. We knew He was going back to His home. We knew that one day each of us would join Him, but not today, not now.
All I knew was I was with Jesus, walking with Him in His last moments here with us. And I knew that just being with Him was enough, words weren’t needed. He was telling me He loved me. He was telling me it was okay, okay to cry, okay to miss Him, to know that I would be lost in the here and now. My heart would be wounded, sad, lonely.
Yet, He knew that I would have the others, you, to recall this day and time, to sit with a cup of coffee and say, “do you remember the day…….?” Yes, I would always remember the day. I remember this day, the day I woke from a dream. The day I was called and bidden to come, now, and the day he was just …..gone.
But the important part is that He knew, He knows, this day would come. He would no longer physically walk with us, be with us, and talk with us over a cup of coffee during the rising of the sun. But He knows that the sun will rise every day until the Father says it is time for it all to end, until it is time for each of us, for all of us, to come home and be with them forever.
Yes, I am crying over a dream but I am also enjoying a warm cup of coffee. I am thinking about all of the good, the good times, all of the blessings of knowing Him, of walking with Him, the blessings of friends, friends I can have a hot cup of coffee with and remember knowing Jesus in the flesh, of this His last day, His last hours and minutes. Of seeing Him disappear, of being gone. I will cherish this day, and I will cherish the memories, the pain, and the loss of my friend.
The picture is that of the cup of coffee sitting by the laptop on the dining room table, cluttered with the busyness of life. You can see that the sun is now fully shining. Notice that the coffee cup starts out at the bottom of the cup the same color as the coffee, then it changes as it goes up to a warmer brown, and is topped with royal blue glaze than fills the inside. I remember where I got this cup; I was with a friend at a pottery fair. I remember buying it because it was so warm and inviting, like a good cup of coffee with friends. I know where it was made and by whom. It is wonderfully made, balanced in handling, the right weight and size for a friendly cup of coffee.
He is gone, yet He bids me to live this day and every day. To tell of Him and tell of the marvelous life He has brought for each of us. To remember all. I will remember that this day it was also a part of saying goodbye to a friend. No, it was a dream, but it was real to me and it has meaning to me and I will cherish it because it is a memory of Him. He came and spent time with me and woke me from my slumber to give me such a memory of Him. I thank Him for this morning, this time, this dream.