WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LIBRARY

My plan was to spend my morning at the local college library. It was perfect—a few hours away to write without interruptions and distractions.

I ran into a few glitches but I powered through, and soon I was inside and making my way to the upstairs floor where the books are located. I’ve been here before but it still takes my breath away with its beauty. This is a book-lover’s haven. The smell of books is strong but richer than a bookstore, more aged. Other than small study rooms it is one, vast room, divided by the stacks. In the center is a large open space where the double-staircases come up, open to the ceiling with its massive chandelier.

Passing up the leather chairs at the top of the stairs I search for a private nook. There I shed my backpack with my tablet, coffee, and jacket, and walk over to look out the large sunny window.

The atmosphere is amazingly peaceful. I reach out with my spiritual senses but all I feel is peace. This isn’t very exciting, but okay.

Standing with my back to the window I look over the library, both physically and spiritually. My physical eyes catch a reflection of the window off a sign in the distance, opposite me. I’m confused because I’m not in the reflection. Eventually I raise my arm and wave it, and then I catch on—it reflects upside down, so my arm is reaching down from the top. AHA! Here is a spiritual lesson—things are not as they seem. Look differently.

At this point I have no interest in writing, I’m having fun in the Spirit.

I decide I’m going to walk the inside perimeter and pray in the Spirit, bringing a supernatural atmosphere of God’s presence. It takes a while to walk the whole outer circle, but the sight and smell of books delights my soul. Twice I am moved to tears over its beauty.

As I get about a third of the way around, I realize that in the Spirit I’m leaving puddles of honey everywhere I step. That gives me an idea, so as I walk by the study rooms (locked) I sling globs of honey into them. Why not spread God’s anointing as much as I can? After walking the outer circle, I continue just walking through the shelves. This is like a wonderland—mysterious and beautiful. I see a place by a post where the shelves have a narrow break. It must be a secret door into the spiritual realm, so I step through.

The expansive, open area is visible from the railing, where I stand looking at the circulation desk below. I suddenly sense an enormous angel of knowledge standing there, as tall as the ceiling. It gives the impression this is its assigned place. I want to work with it in praying over this library and bringing Jesus’ manifest presence.

Wanting to get better at using my spiritual senses I try reaching out to see if I can sense anything, but I can’t. Is knowledge spiritually neutral? Does it just exist as an item? Wouldn’t there be an overall something? I do feel profound peace and beauty.

This is knowledge. How does knowledge look in the spiritual realm? Yes, it’s earthly knowledge, some ungodly, and a lot of it has to be wrong. However, it’s still knowledge. What I see in the Spirit surprises me. There are words and sentences and pieces of knowledge dancing in the air everywhere. Sentences and paragraphs, and I even see a formula.

I’ve not stopped once to look at a book or read any titles, I have no interest in specific books. However, as I come around a corner saying, “Jesus, this is so beautiful!” my eye catches on his name in large, gold letters on the spine of a book. As it happens, his name is all over the books in this section.

I meander my way back to the leather chair I’ve yet to sit in, but now it’s time to head home. Maybe I’ll get some writing done here next week. Then again, maybe I won’t.

Arriving home is a jolt back into the physical world. I visit with company and get through lunch, while internally processing the morning. I had wondered if there were cameras, which made me self-conscious, but the librarian said no. However, I’ll bet there were spiritual cameras. One side or another, or both, were watching me and felt my presence in that library.