Received via email at 10:12 AM EDT for publication. ~ Dinar Chronicles There comes a moment on every great adventure when the proverbial…
Received via email at 10:12 AM EDT for publication. ~ Dinar Chronicles
There comes a moment on every great adventure when the proverbial cockpit doors are slammed shut and each astronaut, who has trained for several years, is locked into their final mission without escape.
There’s no where to run. No looking back. No last second hatches by which to pull the handle and exit.
This is it.
You can hear and feel the massive RV rocket engines power up to maximum thrust, and watch as all the last minute technical systems are checked and rechecked by mission control back in Beijing, yet all you can do is sit still and quietly await your fate.
Somewhere in the silence, you envision a very different life awaiting you in limitless possibility. And yet, you’re still on earth, motionless, grounded by process.
And while you’ve trained for an active anti-gravity life, you have never really lived in weightlessness for a sustained period of time.
You are both helpless like an infant and prepared like a master. The contrast is mind bending. Painful even at times.
Yet the RV is your chosen reality by conscious decree. And the ZIM is your rocket ship.
You understand now that your blessings and burdens will be equal, and that you are truly God’s missionary of mercy for the rest of your natural existence.
And while you don’t know all that awaits you in post RV space, you know that you’ve accepted this fate, and as such, patiently sit in your cramped little space seat with the smile of a Buddha, content in knowing destiny will soon play itself out for all the world to see … while you are flying millions of miles away.
This truth is as empowering as it is humbling, exciting as it is frightening. As together with Yahweh, you are forever locked into being an angelic servant with an anonymous heroic divine covenant.
God is with us.