I reflect upon my visitation, the time of revelation,
by Denis Martindale
When sleeping one night, the dream began for me,
For there I was and made aware physically of my dream,
Standing, upon the slope of a hill, one leg higher than the other,
Balanced there, by my own decision, becoming more aware...
Beyond my hill was another hill, yet upon it a silhouette,
That of a man hoisted high upon a cross, crucified,
And I will not deny what I saw before any man,
For it was Christ crucified, revealed to me at that time,
For there He was, squirming in agony upon that cross...
At first, I made out His form and the cross clearly seen,
Then I saw Him in agony, though distanced from me,
With no sounds of His screams made for my ears to hear,
But then something else happened that was unexpected,
Something I have never experienced happening before...
Above the cross was a focus beam of light from Heaven,
Straight down upon that cross it fell, quite suddenly,
No prior warning given, but that this light was like flames,
I stood still, quite baffled and amazed, yet not scared at first,
Thinking this was merely a beam of light and nothing more...
But then the light hit the cross and was redirected at me,
I saw it cross the hill and the space between Him and me,
Then I was engulfed in the blood red fire light in seconds,
I felt a fire flood within me, warming me, quickening my soul,
But instead of judgment and death as I first expected,
All I felt was love...
A sudden realisation that it was because of Jesus I was spared,
Yet not just spared and left to fend for myself as if unloved,
No, everything had changed because of what Jesus did for me,
So I stood there, still balanced, one leg raised higher,
Yet now completely bathed in fire, light and love...
And while the dream stopped there, as if all was said and done,
Every now and then, God reminds me of the revelation,
That I am not alone, that I am fully known, fully loved,
That I am not a child of darkness but a child of light,
My life no longer devoid of hope as for those who are lost...
This memory is my shield of faith against the darknesses,
This memory is my helmet of salvation against the sadnesses,
This memory is my armour against all the fears and the doubts,
For my soul is eternal and preserved beyond both time and space,
No longer can I say I am not loved or that I stand alone...
Though I stood alone upon my hill, yet the Lord was with me...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
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