Something is happening. Or rather, is on the verge of happening. The lull, the resting period, is coming to a close. It seems all the preparations, whatever they are, have been finished, though not consciously. Or if consciously done, not with the knowledge that they were, indeed, preparations. Certain things, important in my own life, but not to world at large, have cause changes in myself and my state of being that, though they do not change who, at my core, I am, they have, nonetheless, caused me to be a different man than I was. Or perhaps have made me truly into a man, where I had been, until recently, not.
I have begun to dream. How, dream? Does not every man dream? Perhaps, but dreaming is not something that I, under normal circumstance, do. Or at least not in a capacity that I remember such things. Moreover, these dreams, or at least one most recent, have become prophetic. How, prophetic? Is this not the normal case for such as I? Well, while it is true that often I will have dreams, usually of mundane things, simple, seemingly normal interactions or events, usually at a workplace or another, these are of a different brand of clairvoyance. Those dreams are, for one, many months, sometimes years in advance. Second, they are guideposts, not prophecies. Signs to search for, or, at least, recognize upon seeing. Ah, that is what that is. I am on the right path. No, the dream I have had, and this not two nights ago, was, in faith, prophetic. The last time I had a truly prophetic vision was in the spring of 2002. Struck, as it were, during my waking hours a week before Babylon's parting. Such things must be interpreted, of course, but the players were the same. And the actions, those being of myself placing my person between someone special to many of us and harm, also the same. A very strage blending of this world and the one I portay as Captain Julien Grey.
Still, something is coming. Perhaps this thing will have no greater influence than to directly affect my own life and those closest to me. Or, perhaps, this will be something that will hold great importance for many people. It does not smell like an omninous something, but at the same time, it lacks the perfume of the opposite. Something is coming, and there will be, I think, some growing pains, but only the pain associated with stiffness from inactivity. Nothing that the event will not stretch out and remedy, the result ending in a far better feeling than the comfort of sitting. For I, or we, or whomever, really, have been sitting far too long. Something new is coming. And it's going to be big in my life, I think. What it is, I have my hopes, my speculations, my fears. Only time will tell, I suppose.
I do know, however, that God is speaking to me again. Not that there was a time when He or I were not in communication. But Speaking to me in a more specific sense. His was the first dream. I need to start going back to church. A Catholic one, He tells me. Or at least, I need to attend to the duties and rituals of my Faith that I have been...letting slip. He tells me this, not because He is concerned for my lack of ritual, like a parent might get on a child to keep his room. No, this is more of a preparation for something. Honing the edge of a sword, you might say. Keeping me sharp. He prefers precision work from time to time. Seems this might be the case. I need to pick up my bible again.
I've also been pulled back to a series of books I started reading back in middle school. The author is Steven Brust. The books in question are The Phoenix Guards, Five Hundred Years After, The Paths of the Dead, and The Lord of Castle Black. In these books is a character, Khaavren, who is the base inspiration for Lord Captain Grey's character. Aside from being just an entertaining series of books, that is. In these pages, there is the building of the main character, the falling of an Empire and the struggle to meet the prophecies and portents that point to its resurrection into something far greater than before. Perhaps this is something symbolic? I need to get the last book, Sethra Lavode. If for no other reason than to finish out the series. I need and ending!
Anyway, I was starting into The Paths of the Dead after an awesome night at Plum Krazy's listening to Chris' band Also Known As with a large invasion of rennies when I was Told I should write what's on my mind here. So I have. Having so finished, I think I might just finish up the other half of the book, having started somewhere in the 3:30AM range, it now being 6:22, after attending to the, I'm assuming, feeding of my cat so that he will cease his plaintive mewling, allowing me to read in peace.
The Peace of the Lord be with you all
(What, am I writing a book for the New New Testament? God gives no reply. Oh well.)
Justin. Or perhaps Grey.
Outlaw Prophet of Greensboro.
for every season, turn, turn, turn