That Most Secret Place ~ II
A Thousand Dimensions
Volume 1 2022
Chapter One
Inception
‘Go into that most secret place …’
My faith is sometimes questioned because I do not toe the party line. There is joy in fellowship, of course. There is peace also to be found in the wilderness. Here, I can meet my true self, and more importantly, have it out with G-D. None of us can define this Being.
Theism or atheism, or agnosticism, all of us need a place of quietude.
This is my way of finding that place. It might be in the garden, on the hill, down a back street, outside the office in the smoking area; it might be on the deck of the ship in the mind’s eye, or upon the canvas of a painting.
We all have our place where we can go and where no one else is invited.
Chapter Two
Predicament
I WAS ASKED today where one can find ‘that most secret place’, [i] that I refer to in Dimension: That Most Secret Place ~ Part I.
Good question.
I think Matthew had a similar quandary when he asked Him to elucidate.
Are we not told to pray in public? Are we not expected to make a great show of this weekly exhibition? To both questions, millions will answer ‘most definitely’ and also, while one’s at it, make something of a spectacle of oneself.
How do you mean?
Get into the spirit. Release all your feelings. Chant and wave your arms in the air, and sway your hips too, if you can. You’ll feel SO good.
Fine for millions, but not fine for me.
Yes, but okay, you have somewhere to go, a quiet room, you can close the door. But such luxury is not always possible. And what about if you’re bedridden?
Good point.
I’ve been in that predicament a few times in this topsy-turvy, often totally upside-down-life, and I cracked that quite a while back. There is a place for me. I’m not going to tell you precisely where, but you’ll get the idea and then a whole new dimension will open up a whole new dimension.
Chapter Three
Audience
I have a painting. There is just one particular spot beneath a tree. The sun catches the flowers around the base of its grand four-centuries-old trunk. The grass is soft here, and I like the moss too. In the distance is a very long fence that the artist captured in the full summer sun when he brought that scene to the canvas in the late 18th century. It is so perfect in its detail, that it equals anything that my iPhone can produce.
No one else comes here except Him.
It is in a very private place in my home that even the family are not aware of; and whether I am at home, or up north, or down south, or across the sea, that most secret place in all its detail is within the vast storehouse of my memory. And that’s where I go, and that’s where I have it out with Him; all the injustices of this world, and the mess that He reckons we’ve made. He’s got a point, for sure. I’ve got a point though too. He’s raised the bar a tad too high.
Bar? Raised too high? Not me! Remember! You’re labouring under a lifetime’s teaching multiplied by two, three, and four millennia of self-will, not free will, self-will! That which people exercise when they want to get their way and insist that everyone else goes along with their way; otherwise it’s curtains, bars, a machete, a gun, or even poison.
He gave some pretty honest-to-goodness grown-up advice to Matthew. Matt was getting his knickers in a twist, labouring under centuries and centuries of rules, regulations, and teaching that now apparently added up to being nothing less than the Voice of God. Anything less was apparently not the voice of God. Which is something else we humans are good at … deciding what and who can recognize this Voice!
This moss is really soft and warm today. There’s a real sense of Presence.
And when I picture that conversation and see the Chap sticking a pin in the wineskin hanging close by, well, let’s say it had quite an effect on Matt. We talk of the scales falling from another chap’s eyes after a bit of an incident on Damascus Road; well, I get a feeling today that Matthew had a similar experience quite a long time before.
We all, without exception, have our ‘most secret place’.
26 August 2022
All Rights Reserved
© Kenneth Thomas Webb 2022
First written 31 January 2021
Autumn | Der Herbst in Koblenz Deutschland von R.S. Beobachtung der Natur | A Study of Nature September 18. 2020
Ken Webb is a writer and proofreader. His website, kennwebb.com, showcases his work as a writer, blogger and podcaster, resting on his successive careers as a police officer, progressing to a junior lawyer in succession and trusts as a Fellow of the Institute of Legal Executives, a retired officer with the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, and latterly, for three years, the owner and editor of two lifestyle magazines in Liverpool.
He also just handed over a successful two year chairmanship in Gloucestershire with Cheltenham Regency Probus.
Pandemic aside, he spends his time equally between his city, Liverpool, and the county of his birth, Gloucestershire.
In this fast-paced present age, proof-reading is essential. And this skill also occasionally leads to copy-editing writers’ manuscripts for submission to publishers and also student and post graduate dissertations.
