Chapter 1 - The Dream
Recently I have been haunted by a dream I had once as a kid (by kid I mean when I was all of about 12or 13 – being 36 now I believe I can get away with the phrase though in my mind I’m all of about 18 maybe 23 most of the time).
My dream consisted of me enjoying a fairly peaceful day, normal activity, sun shining; you know, general peaceful day. Oddly though there was a hint of knowing something significant would happen. As I recall, my family had been gathered together for dinner and as was normal practice back then we had the local news on the television as well. Our dinner and news program was interrupted by a news bulletin indicating our adversary (at the time it was still ‘Cold-War’ and Russia was not as cordial with us) had launched nuclear weapons at the United States. There was a sudden sense of panic as the news anchor went on to state that the US had also fired nuclear weapons back and that counter measures were being utilized to minimize the damage of the attack; however, not all the potential threats would be destroyed and it was very likely many would find their mark and many lives would be lost. I’m sure you could imagine the drama of the situation and how a hush would come over our family table as we absorbed the bitter news. My dream then seemed to fast forward a bit to my dad telling us how much he loved us, and helping us to understand there was really nothing we could do. We lived near what would be considered as a primary target for such an attack and if even just one of its potential threats made its mark, there is nothing that we could do that would save us. For some reason I stepped out into the front yard and stared probingly at the dusk sky watching for what I knew in my soul was inevitable.
I remember in my dream I began praying to God, “Why God? Why must man do this to himself?” The irony of this question was that at that point I had not yet come to know God. I had not yet come to accept Jesus as my Savior. I remember it was while I said this prayer, I saw the missile as it entered the atmosphere and began streaking across the sky. Then, as if everything around me went into slow motion I saw the explosion about a mile or so above me. It began as a bright flash that seemed to radiate from its center. The air seemed to burst into flames as the light radiated outward in a near perfect ring, and cast itself downward towards me. Just as this ring was within 25 feet or so of me, I saw a figure on a white chariot reaching out to me, calling me by name; “Erik, it is time my son! Take my hand and you will ride with me.” Behind him were faces of people I knew and many faces I didn’t. I instinctively knew that this was Jesus Christ. I remember feeling a bit peculiar as I made this association in my mind. I mean from a physical perspective I didn’t know anything about him really, yet somehow, I did. I had not really studied about him, yet I knew what he stood for and who he was. I began to reach out my hand, being filled with a sense of thankfulness that he was going to save me and that I had been chosen. It was then that I took one last glimpse back at all the faces that I somehow knew were not going to be included in this act of sparring grace.
I saw many faces, many more than were following the chariot. I knew allot of the faces, many more than I knew behind the chariot. I turned back and looked at my host, and asked, having not yet grabbed his hand, “Why? Why can’t they come?”
“They have chosen it, Erik. I gave them all they needed to know, and they have still denied me. I can only save those who are willing to let me save them, and who have honored me with their lives.”
“But, I don’t know you and yet you are saving me. I mean I know you, but you know what I mean. How have I honored you?
“In your heart you have accepted me; else you would not see me now. Come, it’s time to go!”
I turned back again and had an overwhelming sense of heartache for those that were being left behind.
“Please!” I replied back to him. “Please, let me go and tell them who you are!” They just didn’t understand. I can explain it to them. They’ll listen! You can’t just let them die.”
Slowly my savior began to withdraw his hand, and I saw a look of sternness come over his face. His continence became that of one who had made their mind and there was no pleading with; and yet, beneath the sternness and strong gaze, there was a look of compassion empathy.
A face then appeared from amongst the crowd following him, a face I recognized as being someone I knew, and it pleaded with me, “Please, Erik, it’s too late.”
“But I can do it!” I replied back. “He can’t just leave them here. I mean, isn’t he supposed to be compassionate? Isn’t he supposed to be the Savior? How is it we are allowed to go and they’re not? It just wasn’t all clear enough for them. They can see him now; they can’t refuse now that they see him!”
As I attempted to make my final plea, His chariot was passing by me and I knew it was a now or never scenario. I either accepted it and things as they were, or I was certain to be left behind. The face I had seen reached out their hand as things gradually began to speed up around me. Time seemed to be quickening and the face plead, “Please Erik, take my hand.” I stared back, lost in a conundrum of mixed emotion; frozen still by indecisiveness as the chariot, its passengers and the Savior, pulled away. There was a sudden flash and then I woke up.
My dream consisted of me enjoying a fairly peaceful day, normal activity, sun shining; you know, general peaceful day. Oddly though there was a hint of knowing something significant would happen. As I recall, my family had been gathered together for dinner and as was normal practice back then we had the local news on the television as well. Our dinner and news program was interrupted by a news bulletin indicating our adversary (at the time it was still ‘Cold-War’ and Russia was not as cordial with us) had launched nuclear weapons at the United States. There was a sudden sense of panic as the news anchor went on to state that the US had also fired nuclear weapons back and that counter measures were being utilized to minimize the damage of the attack; however, not all the potential threats would be destroyed and it was very likely many would find their mark and many lives would be lost. I’m sure you could imagine the drama of the situation and how a hush would come over our family table as we absorbed the bitter news. My dream then seemed to fast forward a bit to my dad telling us how much he loved us, and helping us to understand there was really nothing we could do. We lived near what would be considered as a primary target for such an attack and if even just one of its potential threats made its mark, there is nothing that we could do that would save us. For some reason I stepped out into the front yard and stared probingly at the dusk sky watching for what I knew in my soul was inevitable.
I remember in my dream I began praying to God, “Why God? Why must man do this to himself?” The irony of this question was that at that point I had not yet come to know God. I had not yet come to accept Jesus as my Savior. I remember it was while I said this prayer, I saw the missile as it entered the atmosphere and began streaking across the sky. Then, as if everything around me went into slow motion I saw the explosion about a mile or so above me. It began as a bright flash that seemed to radiate from its center. The air seemed to burst into flames as the light radiated outward in a near perfect ring, and cast itself downward towards me. Just as this ring was within 25 feet or so of me, I saw a figure on a white chariot reaching out to me, calling me by name; “Erik, it is time my son! Take my hand and you will ride with me.” Behind him were faces of people I knew and many faces I didn’t. I instinctively knew that this was Jesus Christ. I remember feeling a bit peculiar as I made this association in my mind. I mean from a physical perspective I didn’t know anything about him really, yet somehow, I did. I had not really studied about him, yet I knew what he stood for and who he was. I began to reach out my hand, being filled with a sense of thankfulness that he was going to save me and that I had been chosen. It was then that I took one last glimpse back at all the faces that I somehow knew were not going to be included in this act of sparring grace.
I saw many faces, many more than were following the chariot. I knew allot of the faces, many more than I knew behind the chariot. I turned back and looked at my host, and asked, having not yet grabbed his hand, “Why? Why can’t they come?”
“They have chosen it, Erik. I gave them all they needed to know, and they have still denied me. I can only save those who are willing to let me save them, and who have honored me with their lives.”
“But, I don’t know you and yet you are saving me. I mean I know you, but you know what I mean. How have I honored you?
“In your heart you have accepted me; else you would not see me now. Come, it’s time to go!”
I turned back again and had an overwhelming sense of heartache for those that were being left behind.
“Please!” I replied back to him. “Please, let me go and tell them who you are!” They just didn’t understand. I can explain it to them. They’ll listen! You can’t just let them die.”
Slowly my savior began to withdraw his hand, and I saw a look of sternness come over his face. His continence became that of one who had made their mind and there was no pleading with; and yet, beneath the sternness and strong gaze, there was a look of compassion empathy.
A face then appeared from amongst the crowd following him, a face I recognized as being someone I knew, and it pleaded with me, “Please, Erik, it’s too late.”
“But I can do it!” I replied back. “He can’t just leave them here. I mean, isn’t he supposed to be compassionate? Isn’t he supposed to be the Savior? How is it we are allowed to go and they’re not? It just wasn’t all clear enough for them. They can see him now; they can’t refuse now that they see him!”
As I attempted to make my final plea, His chariot was passing by me and I knew it was a now or never scenario. I either accepted it and things as they were, or I was certain to be left behind. The face I had seen reached out their hand as things gradually began to speed up around me. Time seemed to be quickening and the face plead, “Please Erik, take my hand.” I stared back, lost in a conundrum of mixed emotion; frozen still by indecisiveness as the chariot, its passengers and the Savior, pulled away. There was a sudden flash and then I woke up.
Labels: Book, Reflection, Spiritual
posted by ~erik at
11:37 AM
1 Comments:
Not bad. Be careful. The world may know him but not know him in their hearts.
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