I was with a group of a half dozen people, pilgrims, tourists, on an island where it had been observed that God often walked. The ground rules were that no sound was to be made, and no approach was to be made to the supreme being. We were told also that we would see only his back, that it was impossible to observe him otherwise as it would be an intrusion, a distraction from his work.
God was coming along the path. We were led into an observation blind, and in a few moments we were watching him move along noting trees, flowers, and then he began to turn to face us. I was thinking, this cannot be!
He walked back to within a few feet of the blind, and with no speaking at all made it known that our preconditions for seeing him were unnecessary. An audience of a few seconds would be granted. However, we were to understand this sort of thing could happen only once, given his busy schedule.
Looking at his face I thought, of course, of course, we all know this face. No, it was not the commonly depicted face of Christ, it was a face that contained all faces, myself, my mother and father, everybody. All of nature too. It had the appeal of a baby harp seal, and yet the confidence, the maturity of a wealthy banker. White, well-trimmed hair, short beard.
A blessing flowed our way, a knowledge that the universe was going ok, and that any problems we thought we had were purely illusory. It flowed into us quietly like good brandy.
That moment held for for a few seconds, and then I was wide awake, and unable to sleep again.