I saw Jesus in a purple sky and pink clouds. He came as light, tall and proud. His length was about the distance between the earth and the sky. He was white with dark soft hair, a beard, and a mustache. He had rosy cheeks and lips, yet he did not pronounce a word. His black round eyes had a promise that I was longing to hear. It was heaven he was showing me the road to as he stood tall in front of the bright sphere of sun. He was wearing a whitish large thobe of redeeming love, with rays of light shining through his eyes translating the pureness of his heart.
In his light, I looked up from our house, hardly opening my eyes to see him approaching the window I was standing in front of. True that it was a small square-shaped window and he would not be able to come into it. So I stood amazed by that light who no one of my family saw except for me. All my life I felt different, but it is only today that I felt that difference is a blessing not a curse.
I felt blessed to the extreme and wanted to shout; " Jesus is here!", but everyone were not seeing it as if he was invisible.
The street was crowded and cars were rushing by with its inpatient drivers. No one saw that he had his feet on earth. He was like an angel or rather a shooting aster of the heavens. It was clear to deny since he had the entire universe filled with his illuminating radiations. I had my eyes half closed when looking up at the sky to see his right hand being pointed at my way. He was asking me to come with him up to the heavens.
"Come and see,” his eyes were loudening a desire I did not dare to express.
To really see, perhaps for the first time, who I am, and who He is. To see myself as a child of God and the divine, with infinite capacities to grow spiritually and become more like Him. To understand that God “hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth” (Acts 17:26) and to see all men everywhere as my brothers and all women as my sisters, with all that implies in terms of sibling responsibility. To see that “he denieth none that come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female; … and all are alike unto God” (2 Ne. 26:33).
Seduced by the temptation the other side has, I put my hand in his arm which had the softest of touch. Then I remembered my mother and her fear of loneliness. Before I let go of his hand, I saw him murmuring words of faith and belief. I knew then that all is momentary. Nothing will ever last and it is all a matter of seconds before everything as we ever knew it just ends. No matter how much I put commas rather than points to situations where I should have never been in the first place, it will come to an end anyways.
So I do not need to live forever to make things better. It was a confirmation that I am still a star of the heavens. And it has been said by Jesus himself so my demons can go to hell. I knew my faith was right since the voice of my heart testified that it was not lost. That paradise still awaits its angels, even if their wings were broken here on earth.
I felt all of my worries disappearing from the calming energy he had in his veins.
" he is an angel I swear," my eyes said as I stood gazing at him with eyes as big as my amazement.
He was as if hearing the sound of the planets, angels, and the sun itself. I think he was being called from above so he let go of my hand after he saw I am not coming without my mother, and floated back up. Then the sky closed and it was all like a lullaby song whose lyrics I do not know yet. But my heart knew its hymn although my ears were unfamiliar to it. I saw an enchanting portrait of rose colors like the candy the kids buy at carnivals. It shaded to punch rather than hot pink.
I ran down the hallway to tell my mother how serene the view is from outside the window. As soon as I reached my mother's room, it was a different view. In fact, it was raining heavily. I stood on the balcony to see grey clouds and no light was spotted. Only darkness of a noisy crowd that my appetite soared by such a dull view.
"this is not it," I thought and still it was not a dream.
I went back to the saloon and it was also raining. I stood to watch the rain knowing that the rainbow will always arrive no matter how heavy the rain is. That the light even though not seen, but still awaits as I am.
I woke from the dream to think " oh Jesus with my red hair and smokes, with my irregular prayers, you still come to show me the way after all the ones I knew left!"
Not something I thought to happen when seeing all of the others I thought to have, left out of the blues. Not given a single excuse as to where and why they had done these irrational acts of abundance. I recall somber deserted places where I felt the loneliest and time was too heavy to endure. Yet, I managed as I always do to distance myself from that towards there. Always the abandoned places that make me feel the safest. As if we resemble certain traits of neglect.
The flowers of our garden with its garnished thorns truly look like me in some sort. The question of faith never rang my mind before. I knew I would be saved, but never thought it would be Jesus himself. Not sure how this had led here and I guess it is all the wrong roads that eventually led me back to the correct one.
