The following is a blog post I made to my previous blog on May 27, 2013.
Last night, I dreamed a dream I don’t think I will ever be able to forget.
I’ve had my fair share of nightmares; I’ve woken up several times with tears falling from my eyes. Dreaming is one thing that I just don’t understand. I don’t get it. God speaks to people in dreams all the time, and He did so unceasingly throughout the Bible. Nightmares, however, are scary; I don’t want to think that some of them are from Him. They’re embarrassing – to see your worst fears played out in your dreams like a harsh reality.
One time I asked a person I respect about a nightmare, and I told him how it was so frightening that I could still feel the fear from it until I went to sleep again the next night. His answer was that maybe God was trying to show me what He saved me from when He removed a person from my life and took me off a path I temporarily chose. If that was the case, my gratitude increased dramatically – I couldn’t be more thankful to know that I trust my unknown future to an all-knowing God.
So, my opinion about dreams and nightmares is a little bittersweet. I definitely don’t go to sleep hoping that I have one. Dreams and nightmares alike make me feel so exhausted when I wake up. I’d rather enjoy my unconsciousness in a dreamless oblivion. Unfortunately, I didn’t get that chance last night.
It’s been a few hours since I had my nightmare, so I don’t remember every single detail of it. I’ll try my best to set the scene for you.
It was dark. The only light I remember was fire; not uncontrollable forest fires, but specifically placed fires to be used as light. (How ironic, right? Fire usually represents Hell and light usually represents Jesus.) Nevertheless, I knew right away that something bad was about to happen.
A very deep voice announced something along the lines of, “Time is up.” I didn’t need an explanation of what it meant. I already knew.
Time was up to win souls. This was the day. Heaven or Hell, there was no changing it now. But for some reason, I thought I had a little bit of time left. A few minutes, maybe. So I ran. I ran as fast as I could. The first person I ran to was my daddy. I was in tears and screaming, begging him to please ask God to forgive him, to plead the blood of Jesus, to be filled with the Holy Ghost because we were running out of time. Time was almost up, and he couldn’t go to Hell. He just couldn’t. I screamed at him and Momma. I’m not sure who else I approached.
My words were so urgent. They had to realize that the time to choose their fate was almost over.
“Please don’t go to Hell, Daddy, please! I don’t want you to!”
I still don’t want him to. Yet for some reason, in my dream, I felt like my words weren’t reaching him. He didn’t understand. He wasn’t taking it seriously. Didn’t he know that we aren’t promised tomorrow? Wasn’t he aware of how much I need for him to make it to Heaven? Doesn’t he realize that he’s leading Momma and my brothers whenever he decides which path to take?
I felt desperate.
I still felt desperate when I woke up. My muscles were sore from being tensed up for so long. I felt nauseated. In fact, I didn’t go to class or work today because of how sick I felt. I assumed it was from a stomach virus that I’ve heard is going around. Who knows?
I know that it was just a dream, but the sad fact is that one day it will be a reality. And when that day comes, I won’t have anymore time. When time is up, I won’t get a chance to run to Daddy and beg and plead for him to please, please, please follow Jesus. There will be no more time.
NOW is when I have time. And I hope to use every minute that I possess trying to shine Jesus’s light, so that He may open the blind eyes.
“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” -Luke 23:24
