August 26 – “The Bubble-Less One”

I had one of those very strange dreams last night.  You know.  The kind where it is just getting interesting and you suddenly wake up?  This one was like that, so I kind of filled in some blanks.  Let me know what you think …

I dreamed I went to heaven (No, this not the song).  I don’t recall whether there were Pearly Gates or if the streets were made of gold or if I saw my Mom and Dad.  Maybe because I was there as a visitor?  What I do remember was being encased in a sort of a transparent bubble.  Lots of people were there, and we were all in those bubbles.  For some reason I just knew, the bubbles were for our protection.  See, if we were to enter the presence of God without our bubble insulation, we would be instantly and forever in a state of extreme pain and death, always dying and never dead. 

The lot of us seemed to be simply wandering about, waiting.  At first we had no idea what - or who - we were waiting for.  No one spoke.  There was no sense of excitement to our anticipation, but I didn’t sense any particular foreboding or dread either.  In fact, there wasn’t even a feeling of confusion.  We were simply where we were supposed to be.

And then we all heard a noise, soft at first, then louder, then much louder, then almost deafening.  It was as if every car alarm on earth had gone off at once and the brass section of every band in every country was suddenly called upon to jam at its loudest.  Our attention was drawn to the sound from the very first note, for it hit me that up until then everything had been utterly and completely quiet.  By the time the noise reached its peak, we were captured by its … its … beauty.  Beauty.  That is such a sensual word.  I mean that it calls upon the senses.  And in this case we not only heard the sound, but we saw it – a blinding flash of light at first, then an array of wonderful colors like what I suspect the Aurora Borealis must be like (Never seen it, so it is my “ultimate go-to” for sheer color beauty).  And we smelled it, with the smell bleeding over into our taste buds – like the most amazing … well, fill in the blank here with whatever is your absolute favorite dish of all time (maybe fried shrimp from Shrimp and Stuff or a cherry limeade slush from Sonic).  And we could even feel the sound, pulsing through our very souls, drawing us toward not the sound itself, but the source of it. 

And then that source was revealed.  Far in the distance we not so much saw as just knew that the presence of God was with us.  And now the sense of awe was overwhelming.  All of us fell to our knees, some to our faces.  We desperately wanted to look up, yet feared what might happen if we did.  As the sound diminished and gradually drifted away leaving that eerie silence, we began to peek out from or lowly perches, sensing that it was … well … time.  One by one we looked up, pulled ourselves to our knees, then to our feet.  Cautiously we looked about, wondering what would come next. 

(Now I almost was tempted to just stop here and say, “That’s it.  I woke up.”  But I would never do that to you).

I for one full expected to see God himself, in all his glory, seated on his throne and shining with an awe-ful blaze around his entire being.  But I did not.  I saw nothing unusual at first.  Just many others like me, looking about from our bubbles, now a bit confused, but a lot in anticipation.  Something was certainly about to happen.  And that’s when I saw it.  Well, heard it at first.  Not far from where I stood a cry pierced the silence.  A cry of pain?  Another.  A cry of exultation?  It was hard to tell them apart.  I yearned to move in their direction, but sensed a hush in my spirit that said, “Wait.” 

Gradually the cries came closer.  And soon I could see what was happening.  A lone figure was walking among us, bubble-less.  He approached each person, one at a time, appeared to say something, then slowly reached out his hand and touched the bubble.  In some cases it burst and covered the one inside with a shower or pain and anguish and regret and guilt, and that one slowly, painfully disappeared from sight, as if consigned to … somewhere else.  But there were others.  And what happened to those others made it impossible for me to tear my eyes away, for I hoped with all my being that the next bubble would not be the next explosion of pain, but instead would be … like that. 

See, in the other cases, the Bubble-less One would speak and reach out his hand.  And the one inside would reach out as well.  And as the fingers of the two met, the bubble did indeed burst, but this time in an explosion of joy and peace and love.  The two always hugged briefly before the Bubble-less One continued his mission.  In my heart I knew there was nothing I would rather experience than that simple touch, than that simple hug.

And then he stood outside my own bubble, gazing into my eyes.  I saw his hand reaching out.  I felt my own reach out as well.  I cannot describe the intervening feelings.  A bit of fear.  Well, more than a bit.  What if my bubble’s explosion was the painful kind?  A bit of yearning.  I had to know.  It was time to know.  A bit of … what was that last feeling?  Ah … hope.  That’s the one.  And that’s the one I grasped with all my being.  I felt my eyes close tightly in anticipation of the touch of the Bubble-less One.  And then I heard his voice.  “Not yet.”  My eyes opened to see his face, only his face.  His eyes, in fact.  They were … no words here.  They were simply the eyes of the Bubble-less One.  And they were looking at me.  And … they loved me.

OK.  Now can I say I woke up?  Pretty powerful stuff to wake up to on a Sunday morning, huh?  I have to say before I go … That is the voice I want to hear.  Those are the eyes I want to see.  That is the hand I want to touch.  How about you?

Revelation 21:4 says, “And he will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain. 

Father, you are the Bubble-less One.  Thank you for the time you have given me and those around me to discover you here so that we can meet you through our bubble there.  Amen.