A Breakfast with God

A Breakfast with God

J. E. McCarty

         It was early Friday evening. Sherrill sat in her kitchen chatting with her friend Rebecca. The conversation was very pleasant, until it turned to Sherrill’s health.
         Sherrill smiled, and asked, “Why are you worried about my health? I’m not.”
         “Neither of us is getting any younger. Why hasten your date with the undertaker?”
         “You’re being dramatic, as usual. I’m not on my deathbed. I’m okay with the inevitability of death.”
         She looked very seriously at Sherrill and said, “I have to question your calm acceptance of your mortality. I wonder if all those smiles are disguising fear.”
         “You are very good at putting a negative spin on things
         The conversation quickly moved to their families. After a while, Rebecca left for home to prepare dinner.
         Sherrill pulled out her menu plan, recipes, pots, and utensils. She then began to line up ingredients in order, almost as if she was staging a military exercise. Her large spice rack was free standing and held two-dozen cut glass jars. She sat the rack behind her line of ingredients. With the evening sun coming through her stained glass kitchen window, she began to prepare dinner.
         Before cleaning up after dinner, she moved the picture of her late husband from the table back to its place next to the recliner in the living room. The furniture was spotless. When she was done in the kitchen, it gleamed like a picture in a magazine.

         Later that night, before going to sleep, Sherrill stood at her window looking up at the stars in the night sky, as she often did. Tonight, however, she found it difficult to look away and get into bed. When she did, she soon fell asleep. With sleep, she began to dream….

         A wide oval screen sat over a triangular base with a light that changes color, like a computer. An operator sat looking at the screen. On the screen Sherrill was in her bed sleeping. Thousands of whispering voices were in the background. The operator responded to the voices. There were gold and silver threads, like wires, connected everything.
         The operator then engaged in another conversation. “My Sponsor, do you hear me?”
         “I always hear you,” a voice came directly behind the operator.
         “Sometimes I am not sure you hear me, My Sponsor.”
         “You do not need to be formal. However, it may help to be sincere. The problem may be that you do not always know what to listen for, because I always answer. What is it that you wish to ask?”
         “I’m concerned about this experiential unit.”
         The scene became larger. The sponsor, other operators and sponsors came into view. There were more gold and silver threads linking them together, like a network.
         “This unit and you have both come a long way. Recalling back to when you first became self-aware, your experiential units have improved a great deal, as well as the guidance that you have offered them.”
         “I feel it’s time for divine words.”
         “That is an unpredictable choice.”
         “I feel it will work, based upon our dialogue.”
         “You would be the one to know.”
         The scene briefly widened even more. Countless operators and sponsors came into view, as well as a large central unit. The gold and silver threads were connecting the operators and sponsors to the central unit. The scene then zoomed back into Sherrill’s scene only and slowly changed to her bedroom.

         It was light, and Sherrill’s alarm sounded. She woke up and forced a smile.
         Later, alone in her kitchen, she finished breakfast and poured herself another cup of coffee. Unexpectedly, she experienced a great, calm, but silent voice from somewhere in her head.
         It called to her, asking, “Sherrill, do you hear me?”
         It startled her and she spilled her coffee. She looked around her kitchen for a moment, and responded to the room, “Do I hear whom?”
         “You know me, Sherrill.”
         “Oh God.”
         “Is that the name you prefer?”
         “It’s just an expression.”
         The voice seemed gentler, and remarked, “Expressions are often more than they seem.”
         She began to feel a little uneasy. “Am I in trouble?”
         “No, Sherrill, not at all, and I do not want you to do anything either. I do not show up just when there is trouble, or when there is some divine need—and there hasn’t been one of those for much longer than you would know.”
         “But why would you want to talk to me?”
         “I often wish to talk to you and everyone else as well. In fact, I do—all the time. However, I seldom do it in this way.”
         “How do you usually talk to people?”
         The silent voice became warm and friendly, and said, “Very subtly, through emotions, thoughts and ideas that seem to come out of nowhere—because they do—and by small occurrences that seem like coincidences. Actually, all through life we are conversing.”
         “Why am I not hearing your voice?”
         “I do not have a voice of my own; you can give me a voice if you choose. By the way, you do not need to respond aloud.”
         “I don’t think I can give you a voice. I don’t think I can answer without speaking.”
         “Then it is so.”
         A bit surprised, Sherrill asked the voice, “Okay, so why are you talking to me now, in this way?”
         “The essence of you—what many humans call their soul—ask me to. Do you remember the dream you had last night?”
         “A dream? Oh! Now that you mention it—yes, I do.” She was a little shocked by remembering her dream. “But, it was just a crazy dream.”
         “Dreams are an experience of the dreamer’s creation, and every part of those dreams represents different parts, or aspects of the self. They can have nearly as much meaning to the dreamer as does the creation called reality. However, the main difference is, usually, they are different kinds of metaphors.”
         “Why would I dream of myself as an ‘experiential unit?’ It makes me seem like an application running on a computer of some sort.”
         “It is the nature of the dream metaphor. The dream was your ‘soul’s’ request for this word-like dialogue. No part of you is a software application, or is in any computer. But, the human mind, and what your world’s psychologists call the EGO, does have similarities to computer software. It is where these ideas came from. Like often produces like.”
         She paused for a moment to think that over. “So what did that strange looking computer or something stand for?”
         “The symbolism is a little blurred. However, the computer, for the most part, represented a part of who, and what you are, what many call their mind.”
         “Okay…everything in the dream was connected by some sort of gold and silver lines. What were they?”
         “They are old symbols or totems in your world for connections at different levels of consciousness between the ego, mind, soul, and divinity.”
         “I’m not sure I understand. But what did the operator sitting in front of that thing stand for?”
         “It symbolized the basic essence of the self, what many call the soul.”
         She lifted her head and raised her eyebrows. “That’s a debatable concept.”
         “The debate is only about beliefs. What is true will remain true for a very long time. Beliefs are choices of one’s free will. I am not here to argue with your beliefs, or anyone else’s. You are free to choose, keep, or change any belief.”
         “All right, but I don’t feel that completely explains the oval screen. I was seeing what seemed to be myself from outside myself. What was that?”
         “It was the essence of your perception of your reality.”
         “That makes my reality sound different from actual reality.”
         “I agree.”
         Again, she was surprised. “That sounds really weird. I’m almost afraid to ask about the rest of the dream.”
         “Sounding weird is from the idea that your current understanding of reality may not be completely correct. Your fear is the distance between you and me.”
         “I’m a little confused…were you in my dream? Wait a minute…are you trying to say you were the operator in my dream?”
         “No, but you are close. The operator was your soul. I was the sponsor.”
         Sherrill, a bit perplexed, said, “Whoa…wait a minute. You claimed everything in my dream represented parts of me. You claim to be the sponsor in my dream. There were gold and silver lines connecting everything—the computer, the operator, the sponsor, and a big box in the background. You gave me the impression that you’re God! That doesn’t all make sense.”
         “Okay, I got that. Noticing these things is the first step to understanding what they mean.”
         “It doesn’t sound like you are taking any of it back.”
         “I am not. However, since you have taken the first step in understanding it, what do you feel it all means?”
         Caught off guard by that response, she asked, “Are you now asking me a question?”
         “That is correct.”
         “Well, you could be saying we are somehow related or something.”
         “That is one reasonably accurate way to put it. However, not in the way you are used to thinking of it. A more accurate way to express it is, you are a part of me, and I am a part of you.”
         “That’s a mighty big pill to swallow!”
         “I am okay with that. I do not require belief.”
         She almost laughed. “Oh! Then, were ‘we’ in the computer’s oval screen?”
         “No, not exactly, that was the personification of your mind, identity and ego. It was the ‘you’ that your essence has created since you took this body.”
         “I’ll have to think about that. But there were also other computers and operators, and a bigger box too.”
         “They represented other individuals, and the bigger box was physical reality.”
         “That, too, is a lot to think about. But what was the purpose in having this dream?”
         “It was your soul’s response to your hidden thoughts about death. Your soul understands it differently. The resulting conflict is painful. However, you choose to cement it over and continue to make yourself right. Do you remember making yourself smile when you woke up this morning?”
         That struck a serious cord with her. “Oh…I see. So how can I come to terms with my own soul?”
         “Listen to it. It does listen to you, as I do. It speaks to you, mostly in deep feelings, as I do. It, too, can respond to your every thought—if you are willing to hear it.”
         “That’s good to hear. Will you be talking to me again?”
         “I am always talking to you, just not usually in words. But if you truly wish to talk with words, they will come.”
         Sherrill became curious. She gathered her courage and asked, “Can you tell me anything now about the truth?”
         “The ultimate truth can only be experienced from within, and from your own experiences. However, I can give you some examples with your experience of your world, in which you may find some truth.
         “A day begins…say, at dawn. Time passes to noon, then sunset. Night passes until dawn again had arrived. This cycle repeats again and again. Your four seasons—spring, summer, fall, and winter—pass as your planet orbits around your sun over and over again.
         “All life forms, including what you call plants and animals, go through their own cycles. The plants and animals have cycles with the seasons. Some sea life has cycles that follow the tides on your planet. The tides are a result of the moon that orbits the Earth again and again. All the galaxies in your universe are rotating and cycling as well, just a great deal slower than anything on your Earth. Atoms—the smallest particles of all elements—have particles that cycle continuously at a relatively very high speed.
         “Your physical world very often mirrors the ultimate truth. The phrase, ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust’ suggests your world’s ever-repeating cycle of life. However, life as you know it changes from. Life itself is eternal.”
         She took a moment to think, and asked, “Do you mean through our children?”
         “On the physical level I do, but not in the ultimate reality.”
         “So, there’s more than one reality?”
         “There are more realities than can be counted. However, they are all produced from the ultimate reality.”
         “How can there be so many realities?”
         “Everyone experiences their own reality.”
         Shocked, she said, “Really! But we were talking about life being, as you say, ‘eternal.’”
         “Yes, like love, life has many aspects. You are familiar with life in its physical form, to a point. You have a body; others have bodies, as do animals, plants, microbes and such. You have also come to know something about what you call the ecosystem. That is physical life on a planetary scale.
         “However, life exists beyond the physical realm. Many religions in your world speak of the soul. A soul is an individual viewpoint of life. Your ‘soul’ is your viewpoint of experience. And, like life in the physical realm, you can experience the metaphysical realm, too, on larger scales. The main differences—at least for the purposes of this conversation—are individual viewpoints in the metaphysical realm, experience uncountable changes. And, they are eternal.”
         “Eternity in Heaven sounds good, but I’d prefer nothing than eternity in Hell.”
         “So, which would you choose, Sherrill?”
         She thought for a moment and said, “If I had a choice, I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t choose Hell, for sure.”
         “You do have a choice; you always have choices. You choose what you believe. Your beliefs are very powerful.”
         “Yes, I’ve been told many times what I should believe.”
         “I was not referring to beliefs as being either right or wrong, but to beliefs in general. Beliefs are both creative and experience altering. Your beliefs, therefore, determine what you experience, not just in this world, but in every world.”
         “Does that include Heaven and Hell?”
         “It includes any world you create.”
         She almost slid off her chair. “CREATE…are you telling me we create Heaven and Hell? I thought you sent people to Hell!”
         “There are many ways I can respond to that question. I will begin by proposing a scenario.
         “A person experiences the end of life in the physical realm, and then experiences what is believed to be Heaven. As the story goes, anything this person wishes to experience happens immediately, anything at all. Now, suppose this person feels it would be beneficial to experience fire and brimstone. Do you think that wish would be granted?”
         “Nobody would wish to experience that!”
         “You may not wish to be so quick to judge the choices of others, Sherrill. It has been my observation that the human race can make more judgments than may be needed. All judgments aside, how would you answer the question?”
         With a small sigh, she answered, “I suppose the wish would be granted.”
         “Good! The physical realm, I might add, works in a similar way in this respect. However, it responds much slower and other factors slow you down. At times, they stop you altogether.
         “Now, Hell is said to be a kind of eternal exile and punishment. You are freedom expressed, as is everyone. With complete freedom, one will make unwise choices from time to time. You may recall me stating that I am a part of you, and you are a part of me. Say now that you injure one of your fingers, and it becomes very sore and swollen. Would you then judge it and cut it off for causing you an undesirable experience?”
         “Of course not, it'll heal, and I’d want to keep my finger.”
         “Okay, then why should it be any different for God?”
         She shook her head and asked, “Are you telling me that I am a part of God’s body?”
         “God does not have a body as you would know it. However, on the other hand, I could have been talking about erasing the memory of your first kiss, because you then came down with mono. You are as much of a part of God as your body is a part of your universe. God wishes to condemn a troubled soul no more than you would wish to give up one of your eyes. Souls have all the time they need to heal, and more.”
         “That doesn’t sound like the God I’ve heard about.”
         “The God you have heard about is a creation of your world’s religions. This God has human qualities in addition to some divine ones. Your religions, even though they were divinely inspired, are all creations of Man.”
         She stopped and thought for a moment before asking, “If that’s true, why didn’t God correct that?”
         “That would be violating your freedom. And, in the long term, it is no problem. Nothing can stop the will of God. Not even the mythical embodiment of all undesirable human qualities that some of your religions claim to exist.”
         “He’s mythical, you say. Okay, so what is the will of God?”
         “God’s will is, we all experience who, and what we are and wish to become, and all return to God.”
         “That’s a very tall order.”
         “You are very correct. However, it will not be a problem.”
         “Does that mean, we’re all going to Heaven?”
         “There is a Heaven, and much of it exceeds human comprehension. Heaven is not a particular place, and neither is Hell. Therefore, no one goes to Heaven or Hell. The differences between Heaven and Hell are your beliefs and awareness…you ‘go to Heaven’ by knowing that you are already there.”
         “WHAT?”

         There was a knock at Sherrill’s kitchen door. Looking up, she saw her friend Rebecca. Feeling more focused than she could ever remember, she popped out of her chair and opened the door.
         “Good morning! I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”
         “Yes, I’m sorry, Sherrill. I can’t find my reading glasses. I think I may have left them on your coffee table in the living room. I didn’t get an answer at your front door…”
         They looked at each other for a moment.
         Rebecca said, “Something about you seems different today. When I first saw you through the window, you seemed to be looking off into space, and I surprised you…and look at the mess on your table!”
         She smiled widely and answered, “Something surprising came to me this morning; I got lost in thought and forgot all about having spilled a cup of coffee. Please come in.”
         Rebecca came into the kitchen. Sherrill started to clean up the spill, and Rebecca went to find her glasses.
         When she returned, Sherrill asked, “So, how do I seem different?”
         Looking quizzically at her, she replied, “There’s what seems like a new energy or something coming from you. Your smile at the door seemed real, instead of like you were posing for a picture.”
         In a very calm voice she replied, “I never noticed that you were so perceptive. I guess the best way to explain it is, I had an epiphany.”
         “Really! It must have been some epiphany.”