The preacher screamed bombastically at the top of his lungs, “The rapture is upon us!” As if it were a threat not a blessing, but the young man wearing his Sunday best, sitting the middle pew, so the preacher could not see the gears of his wandering mind pondering, “Perhaps the rapture is an event ongoing, with those who awake choosing being and loving, over doing and having, simply disappearing from this illusion, but leaving no trace of ever having been, so as to cause no suffering or imprints of footsteps to follow in their wake, as each soul’s journey is its own and it’s freewill to return to flow, to oneness must be their own without influence of the awakening of the others?”