I saw myself in a dream one night months ago; I had applied to go to Israel and was told that I would not be allowed out of the country on leave unless I found a more ‘secure’ mission field. In my dream, I was on Calvary, weeping at the foot of the cross. Then as I slowly overcame my grief, I looked around at others around me, still weeping. I wondered why nobody else had been able to overcome this nearly tangible, oppressive, sadness. For a bit, I tried to rouse others from their weeping, only to be ignored, as if I was not a part of their world. Up on the cross, I couldn’t see a body anymore, it was too bright. People now seemed to be weeping for a corpse which ceased to be. In my confusion, I shrugged off my perplexity. I turned my back from the light for a moment and glimpsed the foreboding abyss the mourners had come from. The darkness’ chill reached me even in my proximity to the warmth of the cross and the weakening light. I returned my gaze to the cross, and could not find it. On the hill where it had stood, the others, who were still weeping, were now softly luminescent. Alarmed, I shot my eyes over my own arms and hands; they had indeed begun to glow discreetly. With nothing to grieve over any longer, I turned again to the darkness at my back.
I took a tentative step toward it. The weeping grew louder, warning me of the danger laid out before me. Another step. Weeping slightly louder, cold threatening to envelope me. With the next step a new realization jolted through my very being. The chill still upon my skin, a new warmth had manifested itself within me. With each bold step I took now, the warmth grew, both in intensity and breadth, growing beyond even the confines of my own skin. I was trotting now, growing hotter, brighter. There was a grin on my face I had not known before my grief, before the light. I glanced back at the now far off mourners, still weeping, still only softly glowing. Their weeping had already become weak and distant, mournful in its own right. I knew my path now, even it’s destination; Christ. I was at full speed now, running through the night, not caring where or how long I would run. Exhaustion was unknown to me as I gained even more speed. When I thought I could not possibly travel any faster, I felt something grasp me. It was not my own power that propelled me, I was being prepared for something much more.
“Lord, let me be your messenger, throw me like a torch into the night!”