Excerpt from Morning Coffee With God....
|Chapter 1 - The Initial Visit||
|Chapter 2 - I Come To You With Great Knowing||
|Chapter 3 - Venusian Meditation||
|Chapter 5 - Oh, My Soul||
|Chapter 6 - On Love||
|Chapter 7 - The Language of Love||
|Chapter 8 - I am Life||
|Chapter 9 - I Am||
|Chapter 10 - All That Is||
|The War Child||
|Soldier in Contemplation||
|Chapter 12 - Glimpse||
|Chapter 13 - Your World is Your World||
|Chapter 14 - Fear, Embrace Me No More||
|Chapter 15 - The Voice Behind Your Voice||
|Chapter 16 - On Sadness||
|Chapter 17 - On Mourning||
|Chapter 18 - On Hatred||
|Chapter 19 - On Creating||
|Chapter 20 - Two Soul Pleas, To Maya||
|Chapter 22 - The Healing Power of Anger||
|Chapter 23 - Fantasy Possesses Elements of Truth||
|Chapter 24 - A Visit To Mr. Divine’s House||
Morning Coffee With God was written during the winter of 2005. I was taking a sabbatical for a few months and stayed with my friend Leiah Kitare in Cincinnati, OH. She lives near the Ohio river in an old house built in the 1890’s and was in the process of renovating her house.
The book was spurred by a series of dreams that took place in the wee hours of the morning but a few occurred when I took naps in the afternoon or early evening. I was astonished with the consistency of the dreams and my ability to recall the conversations near verbatim when I awoke, along with the depth and penetrating insights of the conversations and writings.
I reread my book and still I was not satisfied. I kept thinking, this story is a bit or perhaps way out there. Yet it is what I experienced so how can I deny it? Nonetheless, I still could not shake off the feeling that I might be labeled ‘a madman’ should I dare attempt to share it. I even considered not sending the book to publishers even though Mr. Divine had mentioned more than once that I was not writing the book merely for myself; he also predicted that others would benefit from it. Needless to say I struggled.
The domain of dreams is not unfamiliar territory to me. I have been a spiritual counselor for over twenty years and dream analysis/interpretation is one the areas I work in. But to claim to have ‘morning coffee visits’ with God? Isn’t that kind of audacious even if I claim to have them in dreams? How could I possibly expect anyone to believe such a story? How could I expect myself to believe it? The struggle continued. I wanted to share my dreams but I could not get motivated or bring myself to do it. I would read the copious notes I took and be filled with all the original excitement and yet I kept that excitement to myself. I even had fantasies of deleting the file from my computer.
As fate would have it, a dream is what kept me from pushing the delete key. One night I dreamt I was in a classroom sitting alone at a desk. I wondered if I was serving detention. A petite perky lady enters the classroom. “Why am I here?” I asked her. She looked at me then said “Michael, you did not do your homework.”
“My homework?” I asked incredulously. “I always do my homework.”
She shook her head and pointed at me. “Okay then, so what is my homework?” I asked.
She went to the chalkboard and wrote four words in big capital letters-SEND YOUR BOOK OUT then added, “And you know which one.” She disappeared and the dream ended. Well, so much for not sending the book out to publishers, I thought. I wonder if they will all think I’m nuts? I decided to consult a friend who had read parts of the book and ask his opinion. Here is what he said:
“Michael, I feel the story is very rich with spiritual substance, however, I think that it would be good to develop the theme of “incredulity” a little more. Because you are at this time a little more familiar with encounters of the spirit than most, you quickly adjust to the stunning circumstances of having God come for morning coffee with you. I believe that most people would go through various stages of disbelief and mistrust of their own senses. I realize that this encounter was characterized as a ‘dream journey’-and then some-but I opine that some readers will still struggle with the story because they just can’t get past the phenomenon of direct contact with God-dream or not. I respectfully suggest that you give these folks permission to ride along a bit too. You might say something like:
“Dear Reader, I do not expect you to swallow this! In fact, it was my experience, and yet as I look back upon it I still have moments of doubt-doubt that it really happened, doubt of my own sanity-and I often wonder about the ‘reality’ that surrounds me during my waking hours today!
“But please indulge me here. It is of little concern to me whether you think I am “off my rocker”. I will leave it up to you to decide whether the circumstances I describe are rooted in rock-solid day-to-day living; or if they are musings of a man who spends too much time talking with himself. I would be disappointed if your incredulity caused you to overlook the message in His words. Just this once, allow yourself to play a game of ‘let’s pretend’ long enough to hear what Mr. Divine is saying!”
The struggle continued for months. It felt like I had become two different people. The battles between my mind and heart were ongoing, and many times it was so tempting to take the notes and burn them to ashes.
However, I also know that sometimes we must throw caution to the wind-that is if we want to grow and expand our horizons. I thought of the scene in Shirley Maclaine’s book Out On A Limb where it says to get to the fruit you have to go out on a limb. One of my favorite poems is called, “Risking”. It ends by saying we are only free if we take risks.
After a long struggle I finally decided to go forward with the book. I went out on a limb. I took a risk. I trusted and followed my intuition even though I was scared out of my wits because my comfort zone was constantly being invaded and my beliefs challenged. So it is with no regrets and with much pleasure that I say “In a magical place somewhere in time I shared my first cup of coffee with God.”
I was not sure if I had fallen asleep or if I was in that half-dream-half-awake state. It was still early in the morning, not yet daybreak. I rolled over into a comfortable position and snuggled into the blankets. My face still felt chilled so I buried myself deeper into the warmth of the covers. Suddenly I felt the weight of something sit down on the bed. I could smell the different scent, and I could hear soft even breathing. I tried to open my eyes and to move; I could do neither. Panicking, I kept trying to move just anything; something was not right. What was happening? I was praying that this was just a dream that I would soon awaken from.
My eyes seemed to belong to someone else. My hands were sweating and clammy. Feeling half-numb, I became aware of something or someone beside me. My breath caught in my chest and each additional one became a struggle. What was happening? “Help me, please help me,” I kept silently pleading. An eternity seemed to pass by. Was I having a stroke? Was my heart failing? Was I dying? Questions crossed the blackboard of my mind. I felt something like a hand lay on my shoulder; still unable to open my eyes or move, but somehow feeling it. A gentle kind of relaxing sensation softly filled my body; my eyes began to open. The brilliant light was all that I could see; it was as if I were lying in the midst of a stalled lightning flash. How can I explain this when it was like nothing I have ever seen or experienced? Slowly, the brilliant light dimmed and I glimpsed a tenuous shadowy form sitting on my bed.
The light was becoming more natural and my eyes were adjusting. I was trying to make out the hazy figure on the bed beside me while rubbing my eyes and looking again. Suddenly, I could see the figure and my heart almost stopped beating. Fear and terror took over; this could not be real. My mouth tried to form words but it was impossible, until HE touched my face soothingly and said, “Do not fear.”
Our eyes locked. I sensed that the stranger was not here to do me harm. A few moments later, he spoke softly, “Michael, I am God.”
My mouth dropped; my head began spinning, and I thought I might faint. I even wondered if I had been drugged. I closed my eyes, hoping he would simply disappear. Perhaps I was only dreaming. A smile formed on his face and he reached out his hand to me. I winced and backed away.
“Who did you say you were?” I finally managed to stutter.
He looked at me with his intense penetrating blue eyes. Tingles poured through my entire being. His intense gaze held my eyes. I could feel dizziness overtaking me and my body going numb. He smiled then said in a soft voice, “Michael, I am God.”
I stared at him, speechless. It’s one thing to talk about something so different; so far out that it challenges our beliefs and everything we were taught in church. Conversation or reading a book can be stimulating and educational but it is not the same thing as direct experience. A pleasant memory came to mind. I had made almond chocolate fudge one day and had told a friend about it. “What does it taste like?” she asked. “I don’t know,” I had replied. “I can’t tell you what it tastes like. You have to experience it for yourself.” Experience it for yourself. The thought petrified me. What comfort was that? That’s like somebody telling you that once you take the big plunge into the pool from the high dive that it’s all down hill from there. Or someone telling you that once you jump out of the plane that your parachute will activate and you will land safely.
What consolation are words when you are standing alone on the high dive, or staring out the airplane shivering, heart pounding like a drum, fearing you are about to plunge to your death? What if your parachute does not activate? At that moment I was so barraged by trembling and terror I thought I might pass out. This was just too much. How did I know this was not some ruse or trap? “Be ever on the alert, even the devil mixes the truth with lies so as to ensnare and confuse you.” I recalled Pastor Cleveland often saying in sermons when I was a kid. Could this character be a demon in disguise? I looked at him again. He certainly did not look like one. Lord knows that one of my favorite sayings is “looks can be deceiving”. I stole another glance in his direction. His eyes were so penetratingly deep and ethereal blue. He looked young and old at the same time. I did not sense that he was evil. Hadn’t I listened to my intuition before when sizing people up? The bottom line was that I was almost always right. My first impressions were usually accurate and my first impression was that whoever he was, there was not an ounce of meanness in him. I took some comfort in that thought then managed to get out with difficulty, “Please tell me that this is all a joke, or better still, just a dream.”
He smiled and spoke gently. “Michael, this is no joke but it is a type of dream. But do not be fooled. Dreams have their own reality and there are many different types of dreams.”
My teeth were clattering and my knees shaking. It felt like electrical currents were going through every limb and fiber of my being. As though sensing my state of mind which was half-shock and half-terror, he repeated himself. “Michael, this is no joke; it is a type of dream. But don’t be fooled. Dreams have their own reality. You have been engaged in a very active dream life for many years. For now, why don’t we sit by the fireplace? It is lovely you know. Nothing would please me more than to have morning coffee with you.”
I tried to reply but the overwhelming magnitude of this presence made me fear that I was losing my grip on reality. Was this real? I kept asking myself. He says it is a dream but it seems so real. I finally quit trying to stop the shaking and trembling and just let my body move as it willed. I felt like a rag doll with no control whatsoever.
This very unusual stranger gave me a look of kindness that I had never before seen. There seemed to be a golden radiant glow around him; I could even feel the warmth. His kind smile calmed me a little. I found myself thinking, am I about to have a cup of coffee with the Divine Almighty? What is it like to share a cup of coffee with a being so magnificent? No, this couldn’t be. I cannot be having this dream.
He spoke softly. “Don’t resist, Michael. Trust your feelings about me. Time is of the utmost essence and there is much to share and teach you. Now let me say it once more, nothing would please me more than to have morning coffee with you; that would be a taste of “heaven on earth” as I know you are quite the connoisseur of fine coffees.”
He touched me gently on the cheek and gave me another of his magical smiles. For a moment it felt like every hurt that I carried inside had been instantly healed. The woes of the world did not seem real; as a matter of fact the outside world seemed like a dream. I wanted to look into his eyes and lose myself and forget every trouble I had ever had. I had never felt so safe as I felt being with him.
After I finally adjusted to His presence, I pointed a trembling finger towards my kitchen and asked, “do you really wish for a cup of coffee?” He replied with a nod of his head. As I walked down the hallway, I thought to myself how happy I was that I had thick soft carpet for him to walk on. The freshly painted sky blue walls seemed to show off their beauty; the morning sunlight was filtering through the kitchen. I know that it was my imagination and the magic of the moment, but the refrigerator and stove seemed to gleam; it was almost as if we were standing among the clouds. Quickly, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and motioned for HIM to sit.
Now, it just hit me-I was going to make a cup of coffee for God. How do I do this? How can I just make a cup of coffee for someone so immense, so visibly supreme I wondered as my breath came in short huffs, and my hands twitched nervously?”
Taking a couple of deep breaths, I slowly calmed myself down. I went to the freezer and grabbed the Kona Coffee Beans. My friend Leiah said she liked Hawaiian kona beans better than the Jamaican blue mountain. If you know good coffee, then you automatically connect Kona with good coffee, so kona it would be.
The coffee grinder was noisy and I wished I could just hurry it up. I did not want the noise but the results would be well worth it. Filling the pot with filtered bottled water was the first thing that I did. Next, I measured ground Kona Coffee and put it in the filter, pulled the lid down and pressed the start button.
The kitchen seemed to become a jet. I felt as if I were high in the clouds. The world seemed to be distantly far from me; it was just me and this awesome supreme guest. I settled into the chair across from HIM and watched as HE looked around the room with contentment.
Soon the rich robust aroma of coffee filled the room. HE sniffed and sighed, a sign that he was enjoying this scent; I realized that neither of us had spoken. Perhaps it was just not time. I’m seldom at a loss for words, but now I was shivering inside with excitement, and anxiousness. Was I scared? No, that is not the word-terrified is a better word for what was going on inside me. I was sure that HE could hear my heart beating. It sounded like an amazon drum....hurry coffee, hurry coffee was all I could think.
Finally the last gurgle of the dripping coffee sounded and I leaped towards the cups and began pouring. Cream and sugar were already on the table. I sat down again holding both hands around the steaming cup of coffee as if they were cold and needed warming.
I waited what seemed to be an eternity. HE took several sips and seemed to bask in the rich taste of the hot steamy liquid. HE then put the cup down, clasped both hands together on the table and looked deeply into my eyes, and began speaking.