I Find the Rest of My Mindscape: A Spirit Journey

After lifting the box out of the ground, I saw a square hole, which seemed to have nothing below it but air.

In my human form, I got down on my hands and knees and peeked through. There was the edge of a cliff, covered with dense green turf, about four feet below the edge of the hole.

Tentatively, but knowing I must, I dropped into the hole and landed on the cliff.

Being there was scary. It felt too much like being at the top of a scissor lift scaffolding...I hate scissor lifts. I found myself clutching the turf, lying on my stomach, with my eyes shut. But I sensed someone standing next to me, and looked and saw Christ. Bending down, he laughed and said, "You can fly, if you want to. Remember?"

Duh! I could become an osprey.

I rose and stood next to Him. Behind us was a wall of earth, seeming to rise indefinitlely. We were on a narrow shelf, just a few feet wide. I turned and took in the view.

My mindscape lay spread out below us. A long valley proceeded toward a soft pink haze, as though the sky were turning with an early summer's sunrise. The foreground was green and lush, and though I saw no dwellings, I knew the soil was fertile, and ripe for planting by some eager hand. It would support large flocks of sheep and goats. It was a land "flowing with milk and honey."

I had a quick urge to leap off the ledge and go winging away toward that haze. But then what? I did not know where to go, or what to do. I decided to stay in my Lord's direct presence. Perhaps He would show me something, or explain where to start.

Perhaps He planted the thought in my brain, but in a moment, I began to wonder about a house I had designed often in my mind's eye. Surely it was here, somewhere.

It was my Ideal House, including all the things my family needs and those we desire deepest, made beautiful and efficient. Every girl I know has such a home, which she arranges a thousand times over, like a mental doll's house. It is what she supposes she would build if time, money, and location were no object.

I would like to actually walk in my house...use my sewing and crafts room...cook in my huge, well-appointed kitchen...start plants in my garden room, sunny and bright, with its yellow walls and dark green potting bench. I would like to enjoy my books in the lofty library; play my violin in the peaceful music room; climb to the dark loft where herbs hang drying in fragrant bundles.

Then too, I'm thinking I'll be able to meet there with friends, with more privacy than hitherto. That's been a problem - especially with Jem; we only really talk once every two or three months, because it is so difficult to get a moment when he's not being badgered by mental intruders. Sometimes he can't even find an open line...or I can't hear him. It's happened both ways.

I was so depressed to see him one day, after he'd been trying God knows how long to get through. He told me he'd been screaming at the top of his lungs, trying to get my attention, and I couldn't hear him. In response, all I could do was mumble, "I'm sorry. But I'm glad to see you. I've missed you terribly." Maybe, if he'll visit in this Ideal House, that kind of thing won't be so much a problem.