I went home to Jesus last night. Well at least towards Jesus. In a dream. No, I didn't dream about Frances going home to Jesus, I dreamt about me going home. It was a dream, but yet it was more than a dream. It was surreal, powerful and by the truest sense of the word, awesome.
It started out in the dining room with Frances sitting at the table and the girls around her. I needed to leave but I didn't want to. I came and talked with her. I remember being afraid of asking questions in front of the girls but did it anyway. I asked Frances if we had made sufficient plans for her support and that of the girls. I asked her if she was going to be okay without me. And what seemed most important to me is that I wanted to know what she was going to do for the funeral.
Instantly I jumped to outside. It was early morning and the warming sun was out. It was bright yet crisp and just a wiff of fog was at ground level. There were chairs set up in a line in front of a coffin in front of a row a trees; my coffin I assume. I didn't see any of the people there. I guess I don't really know if there were even people there as I had my back to the gathering - it didn't do so at the time but this bothers me now
. I was walking away from the scene through the tall, wet grass. I felt like an animal going into the woods to lay down and die.
Before I could lay down I was pulled out of my body. I was flying up through the sky and it was warm and brilliant. The beautiful vibrant colors of the earth disappeared beneath me and then everything was blue, then white. It kept getting more intense. I never saw anything more except brightness but I was saying "Jesus I feel so unworthy to be in your presence." At the same time I was singing "Holy Holy Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty" over and over again.
And then it stopped and I was awake, WIDE awake. I looked at the clock and it was 1:30am. I was scared and listened for Frances' next breath on the ventilator afraid it wasn't going to be there, afraid that instead I would be hearing alarms. I went through what I would tell the girls and whether they would go to school today. I felt emotionally and physically drained as if I was recovering from a whole body seizure.
I know what I was
thinking and I know what I was
feeling. But now I don't know what to think nor what to feel. I am empty.