a dream

Two nights ago I asked myself about rejoicing amidst the worst of trials:

I've been thinking lately and wondering why "Life is Beautiful" is one of the most popular movies of all time. You have this guy, living humanity's worst nightmare, and he's rejoicing throughout it all. How is this so attractive? How ironic that this is the very life God called us to - rejoicing in trial. The question is, living our worst nightmare, would we do the same? I think we have the chance to prove the message of this movie everyday.

And then I started to wonder whether it would be worse torture to be shut up alone all your life, or to be put in a concentration camp with your fellow man.


That very night, I had a very vivid dream. I dreamt that my family and I were being persecuted for our faith in God. I have had a couple other dreams about similar topics, but they were all humorous in some way. In one, we were in the Holocaust, being persecuted because of our race, but we were squished into a punch buggy (all seven of us!) and I had a time-bomb in my backpack. In another I dreamt someone I knew (don't worry; it's not anyone reading this!) came to our house and started persecuting Christians. And in another, it was the end of the world...but that dream had funny twists too.

This dream was different in that it was dead serious. No humor. I woke up thinking I understood how persecuted Christians feel - being hunted, and having no time to pause and catch your breath. It was like a nightmare, and not.

In it, my father was killed. He had been involved, with some other people we knew, in distributing Bibles and trying to spread the Gospel. But we had no time to mourn his death. We had to leave our residence in a hurry. For some reason the only people in our family were my mother and I and my little sister; none of my brothers were in it. We went down to the basement, where our car was parked, and left. We were being watched, and the police were on the lookout for us, and we even drove right over a barrier in order to get away. We spent some time hiding out in the city, and finally made it to an open-air market, where we met up with some of our friends who were also trying to escape, and some Thai believers (but we were in Malaysia) came and led us the rest of the way to a sanctuary for persecuted Christians. It was situated on the side of a mountain, and was basically an open-air gathering of people (but for some reason it was a sanctuary and we were hidden).

There was a vast crowd gathered, and as we arrived and sat down in relief, I noticed that the old lady next to us - and most of the crowd - were in rags. The looked poor, and starved. But in their eyes was hope and peace. Then three young men arrived. They had been tortured and maimed in the worst way for their faith, but they ran up the side of the mountain. And these looked happy - joyous, even. And despite their handicaps, they were running. In looking around me, I realized how rich we were - how well off we were. We weren't starved; we were very well dressed; we'd just left a car. All that united us was that we had been through trial, losing my father, and being hunted down - but I wasn't ashamed, just amazed at the faith of those around me. And the little we shared seemed to be enough. We were all in the same place.

I wonder if God wanted me to realize something in this dream. Not all of it made perfect sense. But to me it was profound. I have often felt ashamed that I have never experienced persecution for my faith, or else endured the torture that so many other Christians have and still do today. And I'd given up reading stories of those who do, because it gave me so much anxiety - for them, and for my comfortable state. But after I thought hard about this dream, I realized that these are my trials - loneliness, illness - what seems unbearable at times. This is what God is using to shape me and perfect me for the final day. And, like those persecuted for their faith, I am learning to rejoice in trial - to have joy, peace, and to mount up on wings like eagles and to run and not be weary.

It was a scary dream, but I was glad I had it. It seemed, also, that for a moment I shared in what all these other witnesses have experienced. To think...that we cannot comprehend humanity's worst nightmares. The Holocaust is a classic example, but within the Holocaust itself and throughout history have been those persecuted for their faith (and even those of other religions have endured persecution). But what has often made me wonder is that the worst tortures are thought up by fellow human beings...that we ourselves have the capability to hurt - to hurt others terribly, if we so desire. When we're angry, these things surface. To think what God has saved us - and continues to save us - from. Let us continue to take hold of that salvation!