This morning, I saw what looked exactly like a ray of sun coming through clouds…but it was black and smoky, a finger of darkness from the heavens.
I’ve been chewing on another “vision” all week. Maybe “vision” is too strong, “imaginative symbol” might be more accurate. It all started when I was thinking about Lierre Keith, and her story about animals that have trashed their ecosystem. I thought that might be the end of man, too, and I suddenly felt the bottom fall out of my world, a WUMPH! in the stomach. And I saw a pit in the rock, perfectly round and very deep. And at the bottom, masses of writhing naked humans piled on each other, making Hieronymous Bosch look like Precious Moments, And I ‘heard” the words, “This is the end of all flesh.”
Now the odd thing about this was, and is, that I didn’t feel any sense of freakout at all. I felt NOTHING. It seemed as much a fact and as unexceptional as observing, “The sky is blue.” This is our end. And there is nothing to be done. Any attempt to pull out or to aid the pit-dwellers would cause me to be pulled into the pit.
There is Life outside the pit, but it — HE — must be chosen. Heaven cannot be made; it must be dwelled in.