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  • R. L. Mosz

How Much Do We Love God?



Years ago, during a particularly exhausting time in my life, I dreamed a strange dream that I’ve never forgotten.

In the dream, it was early afternoon. I was sitting on my living room couch drinking a cup of coffee. Visible out the picture window was a striking view of the sky, and I exclaimed to myself, “Oh, how I love the sky in Montana—it reminds me of God the Father.”

A peculiar feeling came over me, and I sensed these words: I am pleased that you’re thinking of Me. Would you like to see what I look like in all of My glory?

Despite a deepening sense of shock, I stood up to face the window—the cup of coffee still in my hand. Suddenly, the sky rolled back in a perfect scroll, and movement began. I cannot describe it because it happened so quickly, except to say I hardly saw anything at all. I may have started to see some things around God, but it never advanced beyond that because as the cup of coffee flew out of my hand, I began to scream for my life.

I screamed for the vision to stop. My body could not contain the love I felt in that moment for God, and my arms and legs felt as though they were about to split.

Upon awakening, I became aware of a strange contradiction. I had been screaming for God to spare my life and smiling at the same time.

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