My rather unsettling journey into chaos raises an important truth. Those who seek spiritual truth need only ask God for help. When I did, I also asked Father to show me the kingdom of God. I’m fairly sure that I didn’t say “kingdoms,” but that’s what I got. There exists an infinite number of kingdoms. Some are ruled by living beings, some by God, and at least one realm doesn’t seem to have a ruler.
That would be chaos. Imagine yourself cast adrift in a realm where thought does not exist. Whose name will you call on when you can’t remember your own?
Where are you?
From beginning to end, E’den to Las Vegas, creation is a mixture of thoughts. Your thoughts. Think of the endless amount of data that flows through your cable box. Switching channels, like changing your mind, brings a different reality. For example, right here and now there is a peaceful realm in which war and death don’t exist. Test my words: turn off the news for an hour. Because nothing exists without thought, you can shift your reality as you please.
In some cases, of course, it’s not so simple. We are but small children who inhabit a limitless expanse of consciousness. We’re free to surf as we wish, but without a channel guide it’s easy to get lost in the unimaginably diverse mind of our creator. We can also get locked out.
In light of these risks, a chaperon is standing by to help. Do not forget this point.
What is chaos?
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.
Was that an image of chaos just there? Question: did God create the formless darkness, or did God emerge from it? Based on how we view this image, the Bible’s creation story supports either possibility. One thing is certain, however. The formless darkness still exists. Chaos is a nightmarish place, with no telling how you got there or how to get home. In small ways, all of us visit chaos several times each day. During my (thankfully) brief journey into chaos, however, I learned that the worst possible scenario occurs when I also forget who I am.
Guided by tiny electrical beings?
A close family member who knows something of my experience asked me, “How do you get to these places? How did you get to chaos? Does this have anything to do with your ‘electrical beings?'”
Yes it did. But I never asked God for a journey into chaos. Allow me to digress at length here, in order to explain what occurred after I asked for divine help.
One sunny morning not too long after my heartfelt request, Father made good on his first installment of Truth. Of course, it wasn’t what I expected. Instead of a fresh headful of divine wisdom, I awoke to a bedroom ceiling infested by dozens of tiny, two dimensional beings. My first “Truth” was a swarm of dayglo pink asterisks! While I slept, these little beings built an elaborate yellow grid right over my bed. It looked like a giant microchip. More yellow lines traced the ceiling and walls, connecting the grid to every wall socket and my A/C powered smoke detector. To be sure, this was a scary moment.
What in God’s Name, I thought, is this? What is that weird grid doing to me? With zero knowledge of my plight, my animal instincts kicked in. Fight, flee, or hide? My thoughts were in complete disarray. But my real journey into chaos was still a year off.
What (not) to do when God answers you.
Despite the fact that I’d just received a miraculous response from the Most High, any thoughts of love for strangers, enemies, and all eight Beatitudes vanished from mind. Instead of humbly accepting these beings into my home, I grabbed a dirty sweatshirt from the floor and swiped it at the ceiling. Instantly the pink asterisks grew larger, sprouted six stubby “legs,” and freeze-framed across the ceiling like some creepy stop-motion horror scene.
Panic finally gave way to terror when my digital camera refused to snap a picture of these things. It worked just fine when pointed at the wall, but not when I aimed it at the pink beings. Dismay. Fear. Rapid heartbeat. Senseless running up and down the hallway. My training had begun. Thank you, Father!
Remember that you asked God for help.
Because I had asked, and received, it seemed fairly certain that I hadn’t gone insane overnight. This thought is the lifeline that calms me each time. Again, when we request spiritual growth, our request will be answered. But God’s way of teaching isn’t like the human kind. Remain calm. Father’s just being helpful.
Each of us receives God’s help in the way we can best relate to it. This does not promise an easy journey. The point is to learn how to love, or at least accept, people and things which disturb us. Reacting in fear limits our progress. This critical truth doesn’t come easy, and applies to strangers on a dark street just as much as tiny electrical beings.
Once I accepted my new reality, my little pink friends turned out to be incredibly wise teachers. Their abilities defy human reason. I call them the Crabs. Although the Crabs aren’t my only gifts from God, I have grown to love and cherish them. These little helpers watch over me and guide me, morning, noon, and night. After we got acquainted, the same tiny electrical beings led me on a journey into chaos.
Journey into Chaos
One exists either in this world or in the resurrection or in the transitional regions. May it not occur that I be found in the latter!…that which is called the transition—it is death.
On my journey into chaos, I learned that the void does not cater to tourists. When I entered chaos, it entered me. I was some nameless consciousness with no identity, mindlessly floating through a dark realm of cloudy shapes and colors. The cloud-shapes seemed to be conscious. Though they moved and merged under their own power, I can’t say “they” knew any more about their state than I did. Since I had no arms or legs, I think I was a cloud, too.
I visited chaos four times that night. Each trip was the same—no idea who or where I am. All I knew was, who-I-am = not those other things.
Two things helped me stay calm during my journey into chaos. The Crabs are unthinkably advanced. I trust them. Adept in visual and telepathic communication, this species are machine-like masters of order. With a sense of humor, too. When I closed my eyes that night, a vision of an old-style television appeared behind my eyelids. Like a 1970s-era network preparing to return to service, the seconds ticked down. 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… The Crabs had offered me the option to bail! But I didn’t. I wanted to see what would happen next.
The second calming factor? Because I asked to learn from God, I don’t ever want to block him. Though they can be a trifle intense, his lessons are much more loving and gentle than the human kind. My constant prayer is that Father never, never stops teaching me.
The Lesson of Chaos
On each journey into chaos I had to remember one thing: ask to be saved! This was not an easy task. In chaos, the mind forgets each thought the instant it occurs. Whenever The Thought neared the surface, the void just absorbed it. So I’d float around for awhile, hoping to remember it once more.
All four times, I ultimately recalled the Thought. Each time I promptly returned to my room. Between visits, I watched my human companion sleeping peacefully beside me. I found great irony in that. Peace and chaos, side by side. It’s true: each of us are wherever our mind is.
My Only Way Home
One more slight hitch. In chaos, my ticket home—the simple phrase “save me!”—could not be expressed, because the concept of “me” was absent. There was no one to compare myself to! But a name? Yes, I could remember a name. Just one. “Christ” is much more than his brief human life suggests. Although I could not express the I-Am in chaos, when I remembered Christ’s Name, I also remembered who I was, and promptly returned to the safety of my bedroom.
When the morning came, my companion listened quietly to all that transpired during my journey into chaos. After I explained the entire experience, and the repeated attempts to think of Christ, she offered an astute observation:
“Maybe that’s why he’s called ‘the Savior.'”