On the Road of Light: A (Not-)Real Memory

By Pastor David M. Choi

This morning, for a brief moment, a memory floated to the surface of my mind. Truthfully, I’m not sure if it’s even real. That is, I don’t think the memory was of any one particular event in my life, but rather it was an amalgam of memories brought together in one. And what is significant about this memory is not so much what is happening on the physical plane. What’s significant is what’s happening on the spiritual plane. It seems the memory conveys, in metaphorical fashion perhaps, the best – for lack of a better term – of what I had felt when in seasons of spiritual abundance.

I was driving on a road. Not sure where I was going, but it seems that didn’t really matter. The physical destination was not the point. My surrounding was hard to make out. It was filled to the brim with a thick light, where only on occasion I could see the branches of forest trees protruding out. Here, I had felt an overwhelming sense of freedom. The freedom to not care of what others thought or had said of me, not weighed down by anyone else’s opinions. The freedom from my own pride and narcissism. The freedom from having my worth tied to and wrapped up in the success of ministry, or in the spiritual progress of others, especially those under my care.

It felt as if I was floating, and as if heavy chains had fallen off. I was only surrounded by thick light. I was only surrounded by God’s love. Perhaps that’s what I was really driving towards. I was driving towards a fuller immersion in this light. But perhaps it simultaneously felt as if I wasn’t driving towards anything, because in God’s love I was already fully immersed.

The truthfulness of memories, which I am having the pleasure of discovering, is not always in their accuracy of what is conveyed. But sometimes memories are real because of the things they evoke, the hidden layers that veil the deeper truths of what is taking place in us and around us. Divine mercy it is when he prods our memories to feel our way toward what we had once known and what we today are struggling to remember. That everywhere and always we are surrounded by an impenetrable light that altogether says to us, “You have arrived, and still I say, ‘Come.'”

Author: cyg-pd

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