The Crystal Spectre Finds His Place to Be--Part I

"...begins dismally. I'm either climbing up through a false ceiling in a dark, cramped, rodent-infested closet or I am ascending a gloomy staircase into something like a turret, with tiny windows along the way giving a view that triggers vertigo. Chipped paint and cobwebs show that this route has not been recently taken, let alone maintained. In that respect, it is much like the condition of the closet. Both variations of the dream's introduction have me going through a tiny trap-door opening at the top of the closet/turret. I climb into what I presume will be an even grimmer attic. Every time, to my surprise, this "attic" is ridiculously more spacious than the underlying structure warrants. Also, it is lavish and beautifully prepared for occupancy: heavy and rich wood doors and floors, huge vaulting ceilings, Persian rugs and elegant furnishings. A strange but somehow natural light suffuses through the closed, frothy curtains covering rank after rank of tall windows. As I explore, I find that each room is more breath-taking than the last. I feel like a child who stumbled onto a fairy castle, a castle kept long, but spotlessly ready, waiting for its inhabitants. I am thrilled to have "discovered" the place, thrilled to have it all to myself.
In times past, I had this dream frequently...at least 3-4 times a year. After each occurrence, I'd feel light-hearted and unusually joyful the whole next day. One time about a year ago, I had this same dream, but this time other people found their way into the attic behind me. My initial reaction was disappointment. Having these people come to me and want me to help them find their own "places" in the castle took away the magic and made my own place there that of a servant. It was the last time I had the dream."



I wrote that entry 4 years and 4 months ago. But today, I'd have to finish the last sentence with the words "...until now."

Though he has drifted away, as spectres will do, I could still perceive within me how his soul newborn soul continued to stretch as moved outside that womb I'd made for it. I could tell when passed the first blush of renewed joy, to worship God freely again, back from that dark place of isolation. I could tell the struggle between newly remembered ancient joys and a long accepted dissolution, tell the enmity between the newly perceived divine purpose and the epoch of adamant futility. I could tell when the moment came that he seriously considered pulling away again--intentionally forgetting this new place he had found. He was the first of his kind. Healing but still grotesquely scarred, did he have the courage to be the first to go into that house of mirrors to the past, breaking all the glass before others passed that way?

I took him to the edge of dawn--just one dawn. "See--" I said, pointing to the first burst of light. "That which He made to shine through you He also made to be a sign of new beginnings. New not just once, not just now and then, but every day. This then is your second gift of faith to receive." He put an enigmatic countenance at the sun. "I will rename you," I said. "For I have never known your name. To me you have been Dark Crystal and Crystal Spectre. But henceforth I shall call you Joseph, for I believe you shall say what he says. I believe." And I took his hand and thought about what I knew:

And Joseph called the name of the firstborn Manasseh: For God, [said he], hath made me forget all my toil, and all my father's house.
Gen 41:52 And the name of the second called he Ephraim: For God hath caused me to be fruitful in the land of my affliction.

"By the grace of God you will forget and not by the power of your own will," I said. It was then I remembered my dream-- that I'd found a spare room in the long-elusive mansion of my dream. And, that something special had happened there...