Detailed symbolic vision about my calling.

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Detailed symbolic vision about my calling.

Post by WoundedIcon on Thu Jun 02, 2011 9:59 am

In the moment I was despairing over whether I would truly make it to Heaven, or whether I would apostatize, I felt a cool refreshing breeze from the area where the air conditioner is located in my apartment, but distinct and of a different character: and I saw this vision in my mind's eye.

I was sitting in a small area in a paradisaical place with Roman architectural features.There was a gate with no impediments in a wall of stone, framed by two columns. I could see no further past and into said gate, but I felt as though I was awaiting an angel to usher me through it. There were beautiful green vines upon the columns and I could see other good plants “out of frame.” To the left and right the area appeared open and outdoors, but I sensed there was a wall behind me. The sunlight was sweet and pure and from the general feel and angle of the lighting it was afternoon and the area and doorway were facing and leading northeast. The air was fresh and crisp as can be. The floor was tiled and like granite: large blue and amber tiles, framed by gray. I was sitting on a backless stone bench, looking slightly uncomfortable and remiss as though I was anticipating a judicial matter I was anxious to get over with. However I simultaneously also felt a sense of burden lifted off my shoulders and refreshment, relief. I thought to myself something similar to “Sigh, I didn't live I very good life, but thankfully it's all over now and now I and I'm free: I can relax. I've been released from the burdens of my life.” I was viewing myself from behind, to my perspective's right-hand: left of center to the doorway, looking right and the bench was off center to the right as at the left to the center of the doorway I sat clothed in the robe of a member of the Order of Friars Minor, gray, with a white cord tied about my waist. The collar of my habit had no special traits as far as I remember. The breast of the robe, at my heart, contained an image of a white, feathery dove shaped as my heart. Out of the dove proceeded an ornate design of golden-olive vines proceeding out upon the torso in all directions but not reaching past the torso. Physically, I was a little chubby and appeared about the age of twenty-two or twenty-three, with a clean haircut in my natural color brown on top, but with a blonde dyed tonsure. My posture had both feet even on the ground, spread out evenly, with back slightly hunched and my face slightly down to the ground with a sober yet anxious, contemplative look on my face. I am not certain as to the shoes I wore, except to assume they were dark brown leather sandals. I also had a tattoo of a flaming tongue on my back left neck.

It faded out and faded back in shortly with these modifications: I had a tau cross on my forehead with stigmata hands, but the wounds were eyes, and gold pentagrams on my upper wrists (top point toward my fingers), with two gold “arrows” next to each pointing to – if my hands were down – my front and back. Used to be a medieval Catholic symbol of the Holy Wounds, health, harmony, etc.

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