Come Before Winter – Chapter Five – Dream a Dream
December 5th, 2021
2 Timothy 4:21, “Do your utmost to come before winter.”
CHAPTER FIVE – DREAM a DREAM
The place was castlelike, so vast it would fill an entire postcard if photographed. What resembled a moat wrapped itself around much of the fortress, draining into a stream which trailed into lush countryside like ribbon tendrils. The landscape currently bathed in sunlight offered sprawling grounds, groomed like a Best-of-Show poodle and dotted with fairy flowers and rambling roses. Vines crawled across castle walls and walkways were guarded by well-kept hedges. Bougainvillea flourished, and like butlers, appeared waiting at the each of the many entrances. Ivy walked up a myriad of iron gates as if it were trying to get free. The place was stunning, and it took Mercy’s breath away as she stood in the center of its splendor with her mouth gaping open. She watched herself stride forward as if she lived there; she tiptoed behind in wonder and anticipation, holding her breath so the other her wouldn’t be startled by her.
Mercy threw open the door and the other Mercy swallowed a gasp. She stepped into the shadows and watched herself wander down a long red-carpeted hallway. She looked almost famous, as if she were here for an award or a ceremony, or maybe she’d just shown up naturally for life in this setting. Mercy’s eyes grew enlarged with surprise and she longed to twirl on the red carpet, but she didn’t want to give herself away to herself. Suddenly they entered a cozy room with a fire burning in the grate, and even though it was a summer day outside, it was most normal.
The room itself should have been in a museum and Mercy really couldn’t believe her eyes. The walls were clothed in the finest wood she had ever seen, the sheen of the exotic wood like silk. One entire wall hosted from floor to ceiling leatherbound books with one of those old-fashioned ladders that could move across the wall on its flat iron rod. Tall windows looked across the grounds on the opposite wall, both bordering the cheery fireplace. Down the center of the magnificent room ran the most ornate table Mercy had ever beheld. Like some of the Bible stories from a smattering of Sunday School classes and church sermons Mercy had heard, its surface was beveled with a story it told. There was the Garden of Eden and of course the snake, and she assumed Adam and Eve hiding behind a tree, tablets proffering Commandments. Noah peeked out the window of the ark being tossed on what looked like literal stormy seas and a head of a giant hung from the hand of a boy she guessed was David. A ginormous fish shimmied across the bottom of an ocean floor while a man kicked back in its belly with a sleepy expression on his face. She was so entranced by the artistry of the table, Mercy stepped to its edge, but her other self didn’t seem to notice. Mercy stared at the infant Jesus surrounded by a doting mother and father while the wisemen looked on, and she could almost swear the star in the sky glimmered and shone. She was mesmerized by the baskets of tiny fish and pieces of bread spilling over the edges while Jesus held His arms to the throng of satisfied and smiling people, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the depiction of this caring and loving man now hanging painfully on a tree. It was so real she could almost hear the crowds sneer, and she wanted to run forward and stand up for Him, but she knew she had jeered too so she let her mouth fall close.
Suddenly, she heard crying, and she watched herself crumple into a chair at the far end of the table, the foot where angels hovered and streets of gold and fascinating flashes of color arose out of an abyss and a scroll unfolded from the heavens. She felt helpless as she heard herself cry, and she wanted to go to the girl that was so close to her yet so far away, and comfort her, but her feet were mired in what felt like muck, and she couldn’t move.
Just when she thought she’d seen it all, a door opened, and a man entered. He exuded peace, and an aura of warmth and every beautiful emotion she’d ever felt, followed him. His face was chiseled with time and his hands weathered and worn with hard work, and Mercy momentarily wondered what he did for a living. His robe and his hair flowed as one and he walked toward her other self. But then he turned his gaze upon Mercy as if he knew she’d been there all along and his eyes saw right through her. She at once could see herself too and she knew then she was in the midst of a holy moment. His fingers reached out and dried the tears that had been streaming, and with such authority he walked to the ladder, looked floor to ceiling until he settled on a certain book. He tugged the ladder to the place where he had focused and simply climbed the rungs, removing cautiously a very large leatherbound book, and slowly, painstakingly, as if his entire being hurt, he made his way back down the ladder. Carefully, he laid the enormous book on the table, just this side of Jesus knocking on a closed door. Mercy startled as she read the words etched across the cover, BOOK OF LIFE, it read; Author and Finisher: GOD.
His eyes sought hers; there was such kindness there, and love like she had never seen before. She held her breath as He opened the book and began thumbing through the pages, and just as He turned to a page lost in the middle of the M’s, Mercy woke up.
Psalm 68:5-6a, “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, He leads out the prisoner with singing.”
To Be Continued…
