Article January 7, 1933 Issue

Already Safe at Home!

RUTH INGRAHAM

A student of Christian Science awoke at earliest dawn to the happy realization that it was a restful, unhurried Sunday morning, with the music of welcome rain on roof and window. She spent a few moments in grateful praise for her home, her office, church affiliations, health, loving friends, and many blessings, and sank to sleep again. Then she dreamed that it was nightfall and she was at the station in the town to which she daily commuted, about to take the train for home. To her great dismay, she found that she had left her grip, containing purse, ticket, and keys, at the office, and the train was due. In a sudden wave of self-condemnation, she tried to recall what she had been thinking of when she closed the office door and came away empty-handed, but could remember nothing whatever about it. So perturbed was she over her plight that she failed to notice the train, and knew only that it had come and gone while she stood wildly wondering what to do; and now it was too late to do anything. She could not walk home, five miles, in the fast-falling darkness and in the face of what appeared to be an impending storm. Gloom, loneliness, and terror seemed to be closing about her completely, when all at once, though still dreaming, she remembered something. "Why, this is all a mistake," she said to herself, "I just now woke up; it is not night at all. It is Sunday morning. I am already safe at home, and this is only a dream."

Usually when a sleeper realizes he is dreaming, he awakens immediately, and the dream quickly disappears; but in the present instance this did not occur; and herein lies, to the student, the deeper value of the experience as an allegory. Even though still asleep, all respect for the dream situation, together with the fear it caused, instantly left her. She ceased the useless condemning of herself for something which obviously had never happened, and instead began to reason: Now I may just as well turn my face toward home, where I already am, and walk that way. There can be no real danger or hardship when this is only a dream, and a mere dream of walking cannot tire me. I may wake at any moment, here in town or out in the country beyond, but I shall go on until I do, for that is better than waiting here. And she reiterated, I am really already at home, and it is morning! Setting out in the direction of home, the recent faintness and timidity being replaced by strength and fearlessness, she felt a splendid sense of superiority to the dream and all that pertained to it. As far as she went the streets were lighted and there was paving underfoot; the threatened storm held off; she met friends who walked with her. And at some point she awoke, for she presently found herself in her home, where she had been all the time, her objective already attained. The whole experience had been but a fleeting dream of night and storm—and this was Sunday morning!

"When we wake to the truth of being," our Leader, Mrs. Eddy, writes (Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, pp. 218, 219), "all disease, pain, weakness, weariness, sorrow, sin, death, will be unknown, and the mortal dream will forever cease." Farther on she writes (ibid., p. 403), "You command the situation if you understand that mortal existence is a state of self-deception and not the truth of being." Wonderful words! How they pierce the dream with divine inspiration, revealing to us the realm of Spirit, in which man eternally dwells. Christ Jesus clearly discerned the fact of spiritual preexistence; he knew he had always lived, knew life to express unbroken coexistence with the Father. He reminded himself of this in such statements as, "Before Abraham was, I am;" "And now, O Father, glorify thou me ... with the glory which I had with thee before the world was;" "For thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world."

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Article

"Our only preachers"