I had a dream once when I was a child. I was in my Grandmother’s back yard, playing with my cousins. Suddenly, I looked up at the sky, and watched as the sun grew larger and larger, exploding before me, and the world I was in melted away. I believe I was only six.
The dream has stayed with me to today, perhaps it will become a story, undoubtedly short. The morning of the dying sun does not last for too many pages. It reminded me that we are suspended in a vast nothingness, living only by faith, and depending on a sun whose years we’ve counted back, but cannot count forward.
I remember waking from the dream knowing that it was real, for in that instant, I knew what it was like to die. I’ve experienced that same feeling more than once in my life. Some were dreams, like the first, and some were reality, if we can separate the two from each other. It’s made me intensely aware of one thing…
If there is a purpose in your life, do it now.