I
I wasn’t questioning the validity of your dream or of your father’s life choices (I’m sorry if I gave that impression) rather I was merely trying to say that while dreams can be useful they aren’t on the level of doctrine/dogma. Your dream helped you discern your need for God to escape your father’s fate (for none of us is deserving of heaven, are we?) Still, we really can’t say that your father is absolutely in hell based on a dream no matter how real and intense it was. We won’t know until the Judgment who will and who won’t be in heaven. He may be in hell, poor man. I pray not, even with the evidence of your dream for we cannot know anyone’s fate for certain in this life, not even people like Hitler. It’s why the Church has no list of the damned but only of Saints.
While we’re not supposed to assume anyone is in hell, I think we’re on pretty safe ground with Hitler. When Rudolf Hess died in (Spandau?) prison some years ago, the local cartoonist for *The Courier Mail *(our main daily) showed Hess and Hitler meeting each other in hell, as was obvious by the flames leaping around and Hitler still in jackboots. Hitler is saying, “Well, Hess!”, while Hess is saying, "Heil, Hitler?’. As far as I know, Hess was unrepentant to the very end, despite the years in prison.
For some unknown reason the fact they were both displayed as being in hell seemed to leap out at me, even though it was just a cartoon. I think I can claim some spiritual sensitivity.
My father’s visit wasn’t a dream. It may have been an apparition, but it was far too direct for a dream. I even remember the look of surprise on his face when I first saw him. With hindsight, I think he was surprised to find himself in my room so fast. I suspect he’d just been told to apologise, or asked to apologise, when he found himself in my room. And he didn’t know where I lived. He also materialised near the door, and I could look both at him and through him, depending on how I focussed. i still remember seeing the long saggy bookcase behind him, which I could also see if I focussed through him.
Even the fact he materialised near the door was probably for my benefit. A person can materialise anywhere, but for some reason he did so near the door. When someone comes into a room, they do so via the door (as a rule). It was startling enough having him appear in the room at all, so I suppose I was given a bit of psychological “protection” by the fact the whole thing started by the bedroom doorway. Moreover it happened the night he died. And I didn’t know he’d died.
There have also been a couple of anecdotes related to cab driving that I’ll repeat here, even though I’ve mentioned them a couple of times on other posts.
**First Anecdote - **One night I was driving the cab in Nundah, and I was in
Rivington Street where he died. So I prayed I might get some sort of
“sign” regarding the apparition the night he died. I got this sense I
ought to know better, but I just kept going. Later that night I went back to the Queen
Street rank, and waited for another fare. Eventually a bloke came
wandering along, a bit the worse for wear, hopped in, and said “Nundah”.
I asked whereabouts in Nundah.
He replied, “Just drive and I’ll tell you where to go”. Off we went and
ended up at Rivington Street, Nundah, driectly across the road from the unit where my father died. I even said to the passenger that’s where he died, but I think it spooked him a bit.
Same night I asked for a “Sign”.
**Second anecdote - **About four years ago I was arguing with atheists on a
Google Groups site, on the specific topic of NDE’s (Near Death
Experiences). As usual I was getting nowhere.
Anyway I prayed to meet someone who’d had an NDE. About two or three
days later I was sitting in the Maxi Taxi at Boondall, in Roghan Road I
think. A job came up on the screen with “Brighton … M” on it, which
meant a Maxi was required somewhere in Brighton. I procrastinated as
there are usually plenty of cabs in Sandgate / Brighton, as I assumed
someone else would get it. Also it was a few kilometres to Brighton.
But when it stayed there, I put in for it and got it. It was for
Eventide (state government nursing home). When I got there, I found a single bloke about my age, not in
good health. He hadn’t wanted a Maxi, just an ordinary cab, and had
just about been ready to give up when I arrived.
He wanted to go to Brisbane General Hospital, so away we went. But we’d
only been going a couple of minutes when he said “I’m one of those rare
people”. I asked him what he meant. He replied that he’d been
technically dead for ten minutes following a stomach operation.
Since we were driving to the RBH, we had plenty of time to talk. He was
a Christian (Anglican) and remembered that he could hear everything,
despite being “dead”. eg. “He’s gone. Well, we’d better go and tell the
Registrar”. But then his body shook and someone cried out, “His body
just shook! We’d better try again!” He came to, although he remembered
the usual white light, and a sense of being told to go back.
He’d had a hard life with an alcoholic father, poor health and a
rebellious family of his own. I think his name was Wayne Carter if I
remember rightly.
But what got me was that he went to the same high school in the same
year as the oldest son of the same uncle who turned up to tell me my
father died.
So not only did I get my NDE client, but even he had a sort of familial
reference to my own father’s death.
I may even have prayed for some sort of connection, but since I’m not
sure (can’t remember), I can’t claim that much. But put these two
incidents together, and there’s more than coincidence at work.
