Lungs filled like someone blowing up a balloon. As shrill wheeze emanated from Jeremy’s throat as he exhaled. His chest swelled again. Eyes popped open. Twin water spots on the ceiling goggled at him. They seemed familiar. Where am I?
He propped himself up on his elbows
and surveyed the gloomy room. Budweiser cans scattered on the floor. TV screen
twinkled static. Clock flashed digital red—4:44. Pink Floyd poster ripped through the colored rays. Papers and
books strewn in a tornadic mess.
But the supermodel remained
unharmed, her ivory smile leering at his nakedness.
Where
are my clothes?
Across the room, hooks hung vacant.
Am
I still in a dream? Was It a dream?
Hesitantly, he patted his neck.
Sticky goo. Examined his hands—bloody. Caked fingernails. Nose tingled. Rubbed
it with the back of his hand. Fresh blood.
It was not a dream.
I
am with you, a
voice that was not his own echoed in his throbbing head. That voice. He had
heard that unique voice before, but where? When?
His eyes flitted to the ceiling,
the corners, around the room, searching . . . but nothing lurked.
A cool wisp brushed his shoulder. He
jerked his head to its source. A shattered window. How did that happen? Shards of glass sprinkled on the floor.
You
have received the power of my Spirit. That
thundering voice again—in his head, this time.
He swiveled his eyes around the
room—the doorway open to the dark hallway.
You
will be my witness wherever you go—that
same commanding voice.
He examined his feet. He could
wiggle his toes!
What was It that had strangled him . . . to what seemed like
death?
Receive
me as your first love, and you will be a new creation, a new man, said a soothing voice between his ears.
Puzzled by the words, he searched his mushy mind. He skimmed the room, trying to make sense of it all. He closed his eyes and filled his lungs. Breathing never felt so good. Inky blackness swirled his inner world. He curled up on the bed, nestled his head on the pillow, and hugged it as this scene unfolded like a movie reel in his mind that engaged all of his senses. . . .
Spidery
web of lightning penetrates the darkness.
Smoky
wisps shroud the radiant orb with churning fingertips so close I could reach
out and touch them.
An
explosion of intense brilliance. The white light collapses inward to form a
glowing ball. The sphere shoots a pure-white shaft that divides the darkness.
My
visual screen blacks out.
Burnt
motor oil tinges my nostrils.
Warm
dampness swathes my face.
Cool
mist sprinkles.
An
over-exposed image is torn in two, its jagged edges forming a horizontal bolt.
Hazy shades of white trees and buildings lie on their side.
Wet,
gritty asphalt warms my cheek.
I’m shuddering in bed, now, amazed that I’m experiencing this horrifying scene as if I was there in this moment! How can that be?
He wrapped the pillow over his head and curled up with his knees beneath him.
Blaring
trumpets announce a triumphal entry.
“Jeremiah
. . . Jeremiah . . . Jeremiah,” penetrates rolling thunder.
Who is speaking? Who is Jeremiah?
His heart raced. He squeezed the pillow, trembling and gasping. He would not open his eyes, afraid that It was in the room.
What
happened to me? And where was I? Or is this It tormenting
me? Is It in my mind, too?
“Do not be afraid. You are not alone. I am with you.” Those words. Unmistakable. Audible. They boom in stereo from within the storm that’s fulminating in my mind!
His body
twitched as if something were fighting to escape from within.
I am with you, murmured a warm, comforting voice
in his head.
The tremors stopped, and long, deep breaths calmed him.
As
the movie reel continues in my mind, this is what I see, but I still do not
understand when or how this has happened . . . or is it a premonition of my
future? Oh, my God!
My
cheek rests on hot, wet, rough pavement. I scoot arms underneath my chest and
press up against my body’s dead weight, draw knees to my waist, and stand.
Power and strength course through me, electrifying every bone, every fiber,
every cell. My clothes become dazzling white and blaze with light. Pure peace
washes through me like a current flowing from the top of my head, down my arms
and chest, shuddering me to my toes. Above, the glowing cloud parts and
brilliance blinds me. But. I am unable to take my eyes off the light.
“You
have received the power of my Spirit. You will be my witness wherever you go.
Receive me as your first love, and you will be a new creation, a new man.” The
voice again. This time, crystal clear, not shrouded by a thunderclap.
I
am in awe of the light’s presence. Everything is brilliant white, including me,
as if I have disappeared, consumed by the light. I raise my arms. I feel that
movement, but I only see the light. The feeling of warm oil pouring over my
head, trickling down my cheek, the back of my neck. Warmth filling my belly.
How strange. I soak in the glory of the light, filling with its strength.
The
movie has stopped. Or is it continuing in time with me enveloped in brilliant
white . . . forever? Is that what happens when you die? What is this movie,
this vision, showing me? The dramatic contrast between heaven and hell? Light
versus Darkness?
Is hell the dearth of everything, a soul imprisoned in total darkness without any sensation? Is heaven the essence of everything, a soul liberated to live in total light, with every good sensation imaginable?
An
eternity without light would be endless torment.
An eternity in the light would be endless joy.
For how long did I experience the light? I do not know. Minutes? Hours? The sensation within me now, a feeling of total void, yet wholly filled . . . as if someone has suspended time.
Jeremy
smiled, hugged his pillow tightly to his chest, took a deep breath, and slowly
let it out as the brilliance faded, and his mind drifted . . . and fell . . .
asleep.
