I was in something like a cavern, descending, it seemed forever when at last the tunnel leveled out, opening into a wider space. It was at first dark, requiring some time before I could see clearly.
When at last I regained my vision, I could see that I was in a throne room, jewels flashed dimly on the walls, the floor was made of glass, and a chair was on a platform at the far end of the room from me.
Everything in this dream came into focus very slowly. It required sustained concentration on my part to gain a clear view of the object of my vision. Therefore, I couldn’t see clearly at first who or what was on the throne. I could only see that there was something there, and that it required my presence and my full attention.
I drew closer in curiosity, but also with awe. I knew somehow that I was about to be shown something of crucial importance to my life. As I drew nearer, the atmosphere became more charged.
Now I could see who it was on the throne. It stood straight up, looking like a giant worm or serpent, with a skin of flesh It had one eye. It bent over to look closely at me, and I was afraid I would be devoured.
I instinctively knew what it was that was seeing me, and that I was being chosen, for what I didn’t know.
The only thing I was certain of was that this encounter had to be kept secret, and it remained so for many years.
I was about six years old when I had this dream. It wasn’t my only experience of God, but it was the first one that I was aware of. I learned from this that there were at least two aspects of God. There was the God of light, the God who was present in Sunday School. But there was also this God who dwelt in the darkness, who threatened to devour me,which thought created a response of fear and desire that threatened to overwhelm me.
I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this experience put the lie to all the pious mumbo jumbo that I had been taught. The was the jealous God, the God that desired me, and this stirred my desire for Him.
I knew that this experience could not be shared with the adults in my life, because it removed me from their control. Parents don’t want to hear about it when a child encounters God in the “cleft of the rock”. I knew even then that adults used God as a fiction to make children mind. The God of my family had nothing to do with this dark and somewhat sinister God of the deep places of the earth.
It was a long time before I could put all these things into words, but just like I knew in that dream, it’s been with me ever since.