Well, I had something I wanted to share with you all. Take it as you will.

Do you ever have days where you just can't quite wake up? I did today. Everything seemed to remind me of something else, so for a long time this morning, and on into the afternoon, it seemed like I was in a waking dream of sorts. I was unusually quiet for such a pleasant Saturday morning. Anyway, I was riding in the passenger's seat of the car, pondering why it was I felt so peculiar while listening to some Moby on the CD player. Then, even stronger than before, the feeling of being in a dream seemed to wash over me, and scenes began to play themselves out in my mind, over which it felt as though I had no control. It wasn't unpleasant mind you, and I have no doubt that if I had truly wished it, I could have snapped myself out of it. Something about it felt, important, somehow, and so I went along with it.

The first of three was to see myself. I was dressed in Native American clothes, my face painted in defined lines of red and blue, and eagle feathers were sewn into my clothes all about. I was doing a dance around a fire. It was like getting to see myself how someone else would see me, but that version of me looking like an Indian shaman or something.

All of a sudden I was upon a very high cliff, and before me was the largest eagle I'd ever seen, unnaturally large. It was looking straight at me, with huge dark eyes, noble brow and fearsome beak pointed toward me. It approached me, as if to test me, but I felt no fear from it. All I could sense of it was this overwhelming feeling of nobility. This creature was far more wise than I could know, or so it seemed to me. Then, we were face to face, and at the same time we both bowed our heads and the crown of our heads touched.

Quietness. Reverence. Silence and solitude. These were the overwhelming impressions I got from the dark place I now looked upon. It was as a vast hall, with rows upon rows of tables, and upon these tables were what looked like glass vases of sorts.

I can't quite describe them, but a glass vase, exquisitely detailed, and all possessing that sort of intangible something that is always the hallmark of a true master craftsman, is the best way I can describe them. They were all identical, but at the same time, seemed to possess something indefinable and unique. There were of them an uncountable number.

I looked past them then, onto the end of the hall, where there was raised a great dais, and upon it, should I call it a throne? More like a large chair. Simple, but stern, with a high back, and full of purpose, or so it seemed. Upon that chair there sat a man. I can only guess a man because of the musculature of the forearms and legs. The torso and face were darkened due to the illumination of the place, which was like an endless twilight, shrouding all.

He was the master of the place, and he sat in absolute stillness, only looking upon what must have been his works. Then, I noticed others walking about in the hall. At first, they were looking upon the one in the chair, but then, they would stop, some making it farther than others, and they would look at one of the glass vases. When this happened it was as if the glass vase had a strange light in the very center of it. All of the visitors to the place would then forget about the one in the chair, and they would take the glass vase, and leave. No one made it all the way through the hall to the hall's master. Not one. This thought made me very sad.

It was then I came back to reality, as it were. I thought about what I had seen in my mind's eye for a while, and the thought then hit me, "What they were seeing was only their own reflection. The glass was empty. It was only reflecting every person's own light, that they already possessed."

To me, it meant that people start out upon the spiritual path with the best of intentions, but because God is spirit, people get distracted by physical things, physical things that in truth are empty, no matter how well made, and only hold value because they remind us of something good that we once had. So, people are always selling the chance to really talk to the Maker so they can buy the very emptiness they were trying to fill in the first place.

The moral? The Father is spirit. His will is shrouded by a veil. Because we cannot see him clearly, we fear him. Because we fear him, we forget to talk to him. But true wisdom is the perfect gift God gives to those who can be patient, and quietly walk through the long hall, and with perfect stillness give thanks to the Creator and simply wait with faith until it is revealed to us what he would have us do, instead of asking for an answer.

That was a very deep vision you received. You know...in the end times it says that He will give the young men visions and the old men dreams...something in between for you perhaps?

Yes, God is all around, He (the way holy books describe him only as an identifier not a gender) is in this room as I type, He is in the room as you read, He is walking on the streets. Yet He is also above us and watching us all as only God can do both at the same time. Most of the time, I am sure, He is still and waits for us to talk to Him in prayer or even in thought. He only moves in ways we can feel when He is excited for His child. I am not saying these things as a prophet, only as a believer.

I try my best to talk to God, only being allowed to do so by the blood of Jesus. Although the Bible is regarded by many as only a book written by men about a God they can't see rather than by men who wrote with God's inspiration, I have found it will tell me many things. If I pray to God with deep conviction and read whatever section of the Bible He has led me to, I often find He responds in very pronounced ways through His word, one simply must be willing to read it. I could share my quiet time journals from when I was dilligent in my almost nightly readings if one so desired.

Well, I can't remember which thread I had posted it in, but, just before I had my internet connect cut off, I had announced my new religous inclinations, or lack thereof as it were, but I never did anwser Aykon's question about what it was that I know believed. So, here goes.

My spirituality can I think best be summed up as thus:

1. No one knows, or will ever know, the true spirit of God. The truth of God is beyond all existence. We may believe, we may guess, and we might have even had an authentic supernatural experience, but it is not for we created beings to know all things as God knows. Such being the case, one can be content with just getting to exist at all.

2. All religions are like rivers of knowledge, and each has its own portion to contribute, but none of them are at the source of spiritual existence.

3. Morals, ethics, integrity, personal values are not gained by subscribing to any religion no matter what is confessed aloud, taken in oath, or displayed among the company of others. Also, becoming non-religous does not take those things away.

4. All things are possible.