The Distant Shore
Just a celestial throw from God’s glorious estate, a dimension of the heart is discovered to the delight of a weary soul who, after his deliverance from a dark void that lies within the uncharted vestibules of the spiritual universe he, had set course for the source from whence he came.
Albeit my soul is now well, he once felt that he would forever be estranged from the heart with whom he first boarded my craft. They were both to accompany me on my life’s maiden voyage.
Fate would have it that, before we could reach the painted lining – silver to designate where God would have angels and meet humankind halfway – a storm of destiny would nearly capsize us. Somehow, my heart braved with me the breaking waves; they crashed against my bow with such ferocity. My earthbound vessel still made it to port but, when we arrived, I discovered that one in my entourage had gone missing. We would have turned back in search of him, if only there had been a means to do so and with any indication of his whereabouts. We could only have guessed where, in all the chaos and confusion, the high seas had swept him away.
It is only natural that, in time, my memory of this event and of the casualty, whom I now hold so dear, did fade. However, a dormant sense of his absence was to later awaken in me when God would call my heart to assist with his rescue.
My soul cried out from a distant shore where, since the birth of my flesh, he had been marooned. Somewhere between the Heavens and where Heavenly shadows fall, there is a place where, for many seasons, my soul did linger.
This is not for me to posit the Apocryphal Purgatory, a mythological otherworld, or this noumenal expanse which, to my knowledge and to yours hopefully, is my own concoction . . . but still useful when I go to convey the perspective to where God carried me. Indeed, there is a state of being like no other that, to otherwise make my point, I would struggle to describe without such a rendering of my imagination.
But as I perceived it, this is exact to the reality that I came to know: God could see that I was not whole among you. He knew that my heart would perish, and I with it, if my soul was to remain so lost.
Although my soul could not really be separate from me until death, I have wondered if, throughout my early childhood, I would have felt different . . . had we actually been so far removed from one another. I just felt so out of place and alone under circumstances that, by my ninth year, had crushed my sense of belonging. Night after night, before bedtime, I could barely think of one reason to wake up the next morning until, the eve of a most dreaded school day when, my faint desire to live fizzled out like the flickering candle that would surely succumb to a raging hurricane.
I was “dead on arrival” at the hospital; understand that, on this point, I am not writing figuratively! I was revived after five minutes but remained unconscious and vitally unstable for two days until God, who with a spark of His perfect peace, answered the prayers of saints by kindling a new flame in my soul that would not be snuffed out by pestilent winds of personal apocalypse. This fire in me has since burned ever so brightly.
* Note that this introduction is to a series that expands on my first book, The Hope in Personal Apocalypse. Follow my blog to not miss any of it.
My purpose for this blog, my first book, and all else is purely for the means to further share the hope of my life that, in faith, has sustained me. My utmost desire is to do the good works that God would have us all do to lift one another up.