Dreams to Dream in the Dark of the Night
Last night I dreamt I was running from a man with hollow eyes. He had a serrated knife, put it to my wrists and wanted to cut me.
With an outstretched fist he'd cry "have you forgotten?", "I'll make you taste it! I'll make you taste it so you'll never forget!".
He just couldn't. No matter how hard he tried the skin wouldn't tear.
So then he tried throwing knives at me.
They bounced right off as though I were a wall.
And I grinned delighted at him and said "Would you like to know Jesus?." =)
(too thick skinned? )
(Nah.) Now we all know people who cut their wrists don't really want to die. Either that or they didn't know where to cut in the first place. This was the old man haunting me with an invitation to wallow in pain.
This shadowy figure chased me over hills and mountains, vile temples and HDB stairwells. I remember how the wind would howl and sing in my ears at the speed we were going. If I didn't keep my head lowered I think my head would have blown right off. There probably was never a more skilled qing-gong warrior than me right then and there. =) But I'd like to read stepping on temple roofs as a symbolic trampling on Satan's property.
After "would you like to know Jesus?" you should have seen the way his face fell.
This little girl decided some counselling was in order.
"Why do you chase me?", she asked
A thoughtful pause.
"I don't know", he threw up his hands, looking older than all of his hundred years, suddenly tired.
Then he sat down with his head in his hands, and thought the question over a long pause.
"I belong to you" he said.
"Come rest a little," she beckoned.
He plonked himself on a large flat rock next to her small frame, his heaviness sitting him like a sack of potatoes.
For the first time in a long while they chatted with one another again. The old with the new, the weary with the youthful, the earthly with what could only be divinely inspired. Despair came to know Hope's song, and Hope no longer feared Despair's power to bend her into compromise.
They talked more and more like old friends, for they knew the other since they day they were born. Except this time neither talked about the other or himself. Their thoughts swirled around Jesus...
...and in companionable silence they shared the moments of quietude and revelation.
This they did in fellowship and worship, all at the feet of Whom they were so lovingly made. Hope strengthened with each new thought, despair came to his first smile.
At some length, Despair's countenance began to lighten. The hollow light in his eyes seemed to fill out into a wholesome sort of fleshiness (i can't think of another way to say it), and his smile became brighter, illumined by the Word of God.
He gave a long, happy sigh of contentment.
"I'd like to close my eyes and rest a while." He said, and lay down with his back upon the rock, his eyes to the dusky sky.
The little girl watched over his rest, breathing so gently, so she didn't wake him, staying enduringly, patient and steadfast by him, her presence like a prayer smoothing the lines of his furrowed brow.
Then he went to sleep.
| e.s.t.h.e.r in the arms of Jesus @
9/20/2005 11:27:00 am |
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