There is an unintentional arrogance that each of us holds, in that we somehow believe God loves us and yet cares little for others. We, of course, credit ourselves for this, by our own actions, we did after all ‘ask Him into our lives’ and we are generally ‘good’ people. We ‘humbly’ recognised that God was patient with us, and how special we must be to have gained his Love and Attention. However, because God cherished us, we sense the responsibility to ‘care’ for others ‘less fortunate’ than ourselves; we feel we must teach them ‘our ways’ and as busy as God must be, we think He is reliant on us to guide them and show them His love like a spiritual ‘hand me down’, because these others are apparently not be worthy to have the direct intervention of the Lord Almighty.

We often request the truth about ourselves as if this new report would unveil a list of great triumphs which would render us to be smugly embarrassed, as others then envy our sterling achievements. How awful it was to discover instead, my own plainness. This was not what I expected, I want to shuffle away and hide the sheer ugliness of myself, to bury my troubled thoughts under in a blanket of man’s reasonings and comradery. One is tempted to protest, to request a recount but this is pointless. We have simply got what we prayed for all those years ago, to have God use us, not realising that in doing so we were allowing his Love to replace the broken aspects of our being.These discarded fragments are of course the old us, the parts of ourselves which we loved and cherished.

Sometimes within my dreams I become aware of the strange fact that I am actually dreaming, it is amusing in that I realise that the laws of physics do not apply here, for I could jump high into the sky, soar through the air and somehow evade all troubles I encounter; in these moments, I don’t want to wake up, it seems after all to be a blissful paradise. At other times when the dream is terrifying, I will try to wake up, in order to avoid imminent danger, but instead I am unable to awaken from that dream and simply find myself in another one. Sensing that the spectre that haunts me is tracking my every move, I am filled with utter panic as if I am locked within an astral Russian doll, as layers upon layers of dreams unravel and leaving me still trapped.

The Quest is NOT the enlightened crusade, which involves the gathering of the masses, with a single statement of intent NOR does it herald the long arduous march towards the promised land under the "banner' of Jesus. It is simply one's personal mission in life, that of radiating God's Love for us. We do not have to share words or phrases, nor does it require us to preach or teach; for God's Spirit was placed in us all. We have all experienced His closeness, though few would admit to it, or even recognise it.

It is only on reaching the perimeter that the finiteness of Man is discerned. Those who dwell in the central inhabited regions are blissfully ignorant of this fact. One questions why people should even stroll outside at all. It is however the desire to explore not new lands but the OLD one - the one that was and is lost. For though we feel like aliens our hearts remember, a time when life was truly invigorating and yet devoid of all earthly sensation. How our spirits were joined not only to each other but to all things living. We could touch trees with our eyes, soar swiftly through the air, wherever our mind wandered.