Vision of the Gold Garden Castle
I see a vision. This image has been pursuing the reaches of my mind all week. So here I write it down.
There was once a strong refuge, a castle, buried deep in a hidden forest on a secret, wandering island: the soul of humanity. On this wandering island, deep in a central forest, there was a hidden pathway; guarded and secure.
Down this path, through a small clearing, there were steps of solid stone that descended past wilderness upon the right and cared for garden on the left. They ran all the way down to an underground river. But this was not a dark and dank place for there was a Light that shone as the sun. This light did not imitate the sun. For this was the pure Light that the sun imitated in its physical hanging among the stars.
Resting upon the ledges and plateaus on the left side, of the bottom half of this staircase, was a pale, stone castle.
Entry to this castle was made on the top floor of a stone wall that ran at right-angles from the steps. The walls then ran along in two parallel lines on either side of an open court. As the steps continued descending down to the water on the outside.
These walls extended in rectangular fashion until they reached two towers that stood either side of a great gate. Through this filigree iron gate, visions of manicured and richly cared for lawns reached down to the river’s edge. The lawns were all that the French gardens in Versailles hoped to achieve. Spreading out and snuggling up to the edging of the river.
But the Castle!
The long and simple rectangle, at the river end, held the two towers and the great gate. But at the top end (and entry), there were three levels. The first ground level held a royal dais, open under the arches to gaze over the courtyard. The top floor was the open wall; an expanse for wandering and viewing all the wilderness, the jungle, and the courtyard with gardens below.
The second level was as a bower. A luxuriously decorated and sumptuously filled room full of curtains, tapestries, carpets, pillows; all that anyone might desire for tenderly consoling and resting one’s whole self. A bed lay by the open arch windows where comfort and rest were its focus- inviting. It looked down upon the private courtyard, as the courtyard looked up into this most intimate of chambers.
This private and most intimate refuge was the secret place upon the Sanctuary of this wandering island. It was a place of healing, refreshment, restoration, and consolation. I have often visited this precious place, even built it to these specifications of my own soul’s restoration.
But in this vision, I saw it lifted up!
I hovered, as flying, off the coast and out to sea, looking back over the whole expanse of this emerald, forested island.
There is one mountain, a semi-dormant volcano on the left side, an open forest space in the center, and a section on the far right; being where I know a great lake and exotic fruit orchards laze about.
But there in the center, suddenly from under the depths of the hidden places in this island, the castle rose up! Beneath it another great mountain formed, rushing up. This castle left the secret place and was pushed to equal-level heights of the great volcano.
The pale, stone castle shone upon the top of the mountain ridge. And I rushed to see what caused this.
Knowing what was the make-up of the heart of this island, and knowing what it is that leaks and gurgles out of the volcano as lava… I watched in delight as a central fountain sprung up in the castle courtyard. The top most bursting liquid was clear, like the purest of water. But it shone like crystal, flinging rainbows about as a canopy over the whole place. Yet as the drips fell they thickened and colored, as if it cooling from a burning heat.
The lower bowls of the fountain contained this more sluggish golden liquid. Until at the very bottom, the open well of the fountain, there gurgled over the edging, a thick and pure, slow moving, molten gold. It coated the floor and the walls were already splashed. Indeed, the entire castle shone in the reflecting brilliance of golden bricks and stonework.
But the gold was not a cold element as we know it in this physical world. This golden liquid, I was urged to taste. For Jesus stood there with me, showing off all the newest wonders of this: our precious and secret hideaway.
He urged me to taste.
I reached out my finger to the liquid, expecting to feel heat, as in this physical world molten gold is fired to high temperatures. Yet in this place, there is a void of hot or cold. The whole atmosphere has no temperature other than a forecast of “pleasantly perfect.”
The liquid was smooth with the consistency of melted chocolate. I tasted and the sweet richness was familiar, like milk chocolate, but so much more, entirely satisfying, fulfilling, and comforting to my mouth, my tongue, and my soul. Yet, just one lick and I needed no more. It was so perfectly delicious that it left no savoring need for more in my mouth.
Then Jesus laughed with my delight, sharing my joy. He clapped his hands and vines burst in rapid evolution about the whole place.
Leaves burst forth in many shades of emerald. And I did not see what they were, for the blindness of my presumption: that I already knew.
But then fruit grew forth, bursting upon branches and my LORD had me investigate more closely… I saw it was a diamond!
A diamond hung before my face, the size and shape of a pear. Many other diamonds bloomed upon that tree and a heavy, sweet scent filled the breeze.
Jesus picked one and gave it to me,
“Eat,” He said.
The smell of this heavy fruit in my fingers drew my hand to my salivating mouth. And before my mind had time to question the wisdom of biting into a shining, faceted diamond, I took a bite!
Oh! The softness of the meat that melted in sweet refreshment upon my taste buds. This shinning flavor of sweet light glimmered down my throat. It was chewier and full of more flavor than anything I had ever tasted before.
I was in awe and wonder.
Then Jesus gestured to the whole garden about me.
There, hung about the walls of gold like chocolate, plants and vines and trees of every kind of fruit grew. But rather than simple fruits that I knew, they were gemstones and precious minerals. All tasty. All satisfying. All shining in a beauty that my eyes could not even take in all at once. The more I looked, the closer I focused upon each gem-fruit, the more beautiful and multi-faceted each one was.
There were grape vines heavy laden with bunches of sapphires. Strawberry plants burst with rubies and apple trees dropped with garnets and topaz.
Passion fruit vines hung their precious pods of delicate solid opals, that when broken open, spilled forth seeds of flaming orange, red, yellow, green, and purple; all in a sweet pulps of white, blue, and black.
Bananas hung in heavy bunches, peeling back to reveal the meat of pearls, and citrus trees exploded with heavy skinned bags of round fruits full of the juices of citrines.
The leaves themselves, I now saw, were emeralds: pungent with the aroma of healing properties. They and the flower petals flittered in the breeze as crystalline minerals growing and reaching out to form the bursting produce.
I have never before been in a garden of such enriched, precious wonder!
All was mine to feast upon. Yet I craved none of it to grasp at, for each bite was fully satisfying. I had no need, no hunger, and no excess gathered about me as fat, nor poisoned my tummy with illness. I ate as I pleased and therein was fully satisfied to enjoy the remaining garden as it grew.
This secret refuge, Jesus had raised up out of the hidden place, and set up on display. He filled it with nourishment, sustenance, and satisfaction; all fully shinning, visible, and glorious in Him.
A bridal veil of pure white lace came down to shroud us both, as He held me close. And so we swayed in the golden gem-ed, garden courtyard. (I am sure it looked amusing, like a child floating about in a sheet.)
But there, under the lace canopy of shroud, it was just me and my Savior, face to face. Staring into each other’s eyes in complete adoration, lost in the intimacy of our precious love, in this beautiful place.
All else disappeared as Bride and Christ dance the marriage dance – just two; precious to each other, wholly set apart, and Holy shinning for all to see. Not a care in the world, yet all the care of the universe: tending, protecting, sheltering, lifting up, and rejoicing in the Dance.
BLESSED BE THE LORD GOD ON HIGH FOR HE BLESSES HIS PEOPLE WHOM HE LOVES!
Image cutesy of Cecilia O’Brien
[This post also found on my Mind Palace blog: M1ND.SP4C3.T1M4]
[For more about this author and what she is doing, check out her website: GreggaJJohnn]