War letters from the living dead manHatch, David Patterson (Spirit)
Religion
War letters from the living dead man
Hatch, David Patterson (Spirit)
Spirit writings; Spiritualism; World War, 1914-1918 -- Miscellanea
You who grieve for the untimely dead, have you not read that one day
shall be as a thousand years and a thousand years as one day?
We must start on the basis of rebirth, whose other name is rhythm, and
whose course is immortality. Immortality presupposes no beginning and
looks forward to no end. The spirit always was and always will be. In
the life of the spirit one day is as a thousand years and a thousand
years are as one day.
Birth is the morning of a new day, and death is the evening of that
day, and the period between lives is the period of sleeping and
dreaming. Or you may turn it the other way and say that life is a dream
and death the awakening to reality. But the rhythm is sure.
Falling asleep is a passing through the astral world, much as the soul
passes through it after death. You who write for me, and a few others,
pass through it in full consciousness. Some day all men will pass
through it consciously and will bring back the memory.
You who grieve for the dead, remember that a lifetime is but a day to
the immortal spirit. Often have you parted from a loved one for a day
and felt no grief thereat. The loved one left home to perform a duty
and you felt sure that the next day you would see him again. Can you
not feel that in the next day of the soul, the next lifetime (it is all
the same in eternity), you will greet your loved one again?
Friends do not meet in every life unless they are very intimate. As
you do not see one friend or another oftener than once a week, so in
the greater days of the soul you may not meet all your friends every
day. You part from one on Monday with a definite engagement to meet on
Friday. Four days, four lifetimes, it is all the same in eternity.
But from some you only part for a few hours, from noon to sunset, and
meet again in the evening in the intimacy of home. Those who have left
you now at the midday of life will perhaps come home to you at the
sunset; which is only another way of saying that they may meet you at
the end of this day of the soul, the end of this life, and be with you
in the twilight period of the astral life and in the sweet dream of
heaven beyond. Do not grieve. Love waits for its own.
Some friends you may meet again two, four or seven lifetimes away; but
those who are really your intimates, your lovers, your own, you will
meet again at the sunset, or at the latest tomorrow--the next day of
the soul on earth.
How will you prepare for the meeting? Will you not work cheerfully
all day, knowing that at dusk Love will come back to you? As sunset
approaches, will you not robe yourself in the white garment of faith,
the evening garment, and watch for Love at the window? Love will come.
Can you not in anticipation hear his footstep on the gravel? Can you
not hear the click of the lifted latch? Will you not go forward with a
smile to greet Love? Surely, one day shall be as a thousand years and a
thousand years as one day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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