Terror and Rescue

Since the theme of this blog lately has been dreams, I've decided to put in a dream I had many years ago. It affected me quite a bit, so I couldn't help but remember it. I actually haven't told many people this dream before...but I think that perhaps that would be good to put it into writing and let people see it now.

It started with me in a church, outside of the sanctuary doors. (For those of you who haven't been in a church, the sanctuary is where the congregation sits and listens to the preachings.) My heart wasn't really into entering that room, so I decided to explore the church building. I found a set of stairs leading downward into darkness. My curiosity led me down those steps.

When I reached the bottom, all I could see was a red path suspended in darkness. In the distance I could make out more paths, but I was separated from them by the pitch-black dark. So, I wandered down the path in front of me. Eventually I lost sight of the stair. After a while, I realized that I had been wandering around for a while so I tried to turn around and find my way back to the staircase, but even though I could swear this was the same path I had been on the entire time I never found those steps. I began to panic and broke out into a run, dashing along the red walkway. With every step I took, the path became narrower and narrower, until finally it was like a rope or a cord.

I fell into the blackness and was snared by hundreds of these red cords. I struggled to free myself, but every move I made caused more and more of the cords to wrap tighter and tighter around me until I could not move at all.

I screamed into the darkness for help, for anyone to come, but no one did. I don't remember how long I cried for someone to come rescue me, but I finally gave up. I was trapped, helpless, alone, terrified, and sobbing in the darkness.

Then a figure of light appeared before me: a man dressed in robes, brilliant white light radiating from him. I looked up at him pathetically, tears still streaming down my face, but as his eyes, brimming over with compassion, met mine, he just reached down to me. With a touch, the cords released me. I collapsed on the ground at his feet, but he picked me up, wiped the tears away, and carried me out of the darkness. I remember he spoke to me, but the words have since faded from my memory. What has remained is the feeling of safety and love that enveloped me as I was in his arms.

The cords of the grave coiled around me; the snares of death confronted me. In my distress, I called to the LORD...He reached down from on high and took hold of me...He rescued me because He delighted in me.

~Psalm 18:5-6, 16, 19