Finding Faith and Dreams

One of my main hobbies is writing (good for blogging, maybe not so good for doing the dishes) and a while after I came to Christianity, a story at the MKCC inspired me to write this piece, a non-literal translation of how it felt when I came to faith. Enjoy!

Dreams

You couldn’t sit up in the bunk. I use the word ‘bunk’ loosely here, as it is the only thing that I had to lie on and it implies such things as a pillow, mattress, blankets and sheets – luxuries that it doesn’t have. You can’t even turn over without hitting your shoulder on the bed above. Nevertheless that is what it is called by the other people here. Maybe they’re inmates, but we were never sure if we were ever in a prison.

To the new observer, they were impressive looking wooden slats that had not much bearing on the rest of the room. Once you knew that you’ll be living in them from now on in, we all tried to run away somehow.

The room was small in width, with doors interspaced along the walls, but the length of it went as far as the eye could see, with rows upon rows of bunks. A while back, I had run down an aisle, just to see how far I could get. I was reduced to jogging after a short while – I was so tired - then walked for what seemed like hours, maybe even days, but the beds and the room had just kept on going and going. Maybe I was walking in a circle, that everything had a slight curve to it, but if so, then the room must have stretched on for miles.

There was just something about each door, we couldn’t put our finger on it – and quite literally we couldn’t. Most of the guys either stared at them, or looked away from them, or were even indifferent to them, happy with their sleeping, waking, sleeping cycle. It was an impossible test for us. We look at them and shake our heads, maybe in wonder, maybe in contempt, but we turn back.

I woke and decided, after a little encouragement from friends, that I had to try, as what did I have to lose? All I had to do was slide out of my bunk, walk over, open a door, and have a look inside.

Still, it took a lot of effort to get even halfway there, with my friends around me watching, silently, expectant.

Suddenly a hand reached out, shocking me – belonging to a thing that I hadn’t seen before, hiding in the shadows of the doorway. The grip on my shoulder was painful, as he leaned over my shoulder and snarled out a word with the stench of death on his breath.

‘Pay!’

‘What?’ I asked. ‘I have nothing but myself.’

‘Pay!!’ it repeated, stronger this time, the grip tighter. I knew that this was evil – to be paralysed, repulsed and terrified, all at the same time.

‘I can’t, I have nothing to give.’

‘Go!’

And I walked back to my bunk, dejected.

The same scene happened again and again, but I just couldn’t get past the dark figure near the door. I just didn’t have anything to give that would be enough. Whatever I had was nowhere near enough.

I thought to myself, ‘Help me.’

Another morning, and I tried the same thing again.

‘Pay!’

And again I went back to my bed. Before I slid back into my slat again, however, the room - all of it, as far as I could see - started to shake, the rumbling getting louder and louder.

The door was kicked in with such force that it was torn off its hinges and lay shattered on the floor. Light so bright forced its way into our dormitory, and I could just see a figure of a man striding into the room.

He called my name, heard nothing and called again.

‘Yes! That’s me! Are you going to let me through?’ I asked, shaking to the core.

The figure said that I could go through that door. He would let me walk with him, as long as I wanted to.

And then, again, out of the shadows, the hand came out, reaching towards me.

‘Pay!’ the thing said.

The person turned to the creature.

‘Leave him alone. He’s mine. He’s with me,’ the man said, a measure of strength applied to the words. This was power.

The creature immediately turned to the man. ‘Pay!’ it screamed.

‘I already have,’ the man said, as life rolled off him in waves.

He removed the creature’s hand and then guided me to the door.

And that’s how my journey began.