“And now came the most wonderful part of my dream. As I thus rested against him, near his heart, I seemed to see into it. And I was filled with a loving wonder, and an utterly blessed feeling of home, to the very core. I was at home—with my Father! I looked, it seemed, into a fathomless space, and yet a warm light as from a hearth-fire shone and played in ruddy glow, as upon cottage walls. I saw, gathered there, all human hearts. I saw them—yet I saw no forms. They were there—and yet they would be there. To my waking mind the words sound like nonsense, but in my dream the thing did not perplex me at all. With light beyond that of faith, for it was of absolute certainty, I saw them.

“But this part of my dream, the most lovely of all, I can find no words to describe, nor can I even recall to my own mind the half of what I felt. I only know that something was given me then, some spiritual apprehension, to be again withdrawn, but to be given to us all, I believe, someday, out of his infinite love, and withdrawn no more.

“Every heart that had ever ached, or longed, or wandered, I knew was there, folded warm and soft, safe and glad. And I seemed in my dream to know that this was the crown of all my happiness—yes, even more than to be myself in my Father’s arms. Awake, the thought of the multitude had always oppressed my mind. It did not then. From the comfort and joy it gave me to see them there, I seemed then first to know how my own heart had ached for them.

“Then tears began to run from my eyes—but easily, with no pain of the world in them. They flowed, like a gentle stream, into the heart of God, whose depths were open to my gaze. The blessedness of those tears was beyond words. It was all true, then. That heart was our home!

“Then I felt that I was being gently put away. The folds of his robe which I held in my hands were being slowly drawn from them and the gladness of my weeping changed to longing entreaty. ‘O Father! Father!’ I cried, but I saw only his grand and gracious form, blurred and indistinct through the veil of my blinding tears, slowly receding, slowly fading—and I awoke.

“My tears were flowing now with the old earth-pain in them, with keenest disappointment and longing. To have been there and to have come back was the misery. But it did not last long. The glad thought awoke that I had the dream—a precious thing never to be lost while memory lasted, a thing which nothing but realization could ever be equal. I rose glad and strong, to serve with newer love, with quicker hand, and readier foot, the hearts around me.”

Books and series by and inspired by
GEORGE MACDONALD