A Dream of Christ

I had a powerful dream last night … and I promise, there were no drugs or alcohol involved.  I did smoke a cigar earlier in the evening, but I’ve never known that to give me dreams like this.

I don’t think it was a mystical experience or anything, but on the other hand, it was terribly vivid:  I literally met Jesus Christ…I was transported through time to the night before His execution.  There was a crowd of people, milling around and yelling.  I strained to see through them…and caught a glimpse of His clothes.  My heart jumped…

I forced my way through the crowd, and there He was, hanging in a cage.  I ran to Him, but a Roman guard stopped me from getting too close.  I felt helpless, and got the impression this guard represented state tyranny. I fell to the ground in tears, sobbing because I was so close to Jesus, but wasn’t being allowed near enough to speak.

But all of a sudden, the guard bent over in pain, and fell away.

So I approached Christ.

Peter was there already so I’m thinking this took place sometime after his infamous denial but before they put Christ on the cross.  A new guard ran through the crowd to stop us from approaching the cage, but I stopped him.  He had seen what happened to the other, and was cautious.  I assured him we only needed a few minutes with the prisoner then would gladly allow him to return to his job; he nodded, and slunk off.

As I said this, I was enthralled with a sense of authority – I was speaking for God.  I hadn’t caused the first guard to fall away in pain, and yet, I knew who did, and was confident enough to speak to the guard on His behalf.

The irony of all this is, I can’t recall the exact conversation I had with Jesus.  I remember approaching and not being able to look directly at Him or speak at all, initially.  All I could do, was reach out my hand, and touch the bottom of His foot…and when I did, I was able to speak…and glance towards His face.

He had bright yellow eyes, I recall that much.  I remember thinking that, even though He said a few direct words to me, that I was speaking to Him as I usually do in prayer, and that our conversation was very much like a prayer.  And at one point, when I asked Him directly if He really was the God of the universe, He looked at me with a sarcastic look in His eye, implying something like “…come on, you know I am…”

At that point, I could no longer look at Him; I bowed to the ground and cried…I couldn’t stop.

And then He was gone…and I was back to my time, safe in my bed.

For the first time in my life, I got a sense of what it was like to know Jesus as an actual man; to be loyal to Him as a flesh and blood human, who, nevertheless, was a King.  The King of Kings…

The sort of loyalty this inspired, the sort of dedication … is beyond me to describe at the moment.  And whether this was a genuine mystical experience, or a strange result of nicotine and a disturbed mental state, I wont know this side of paradise; but, it has brought me to a new level in my walk either way.

…and my fingers are still tingling from touching His foot.

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3 Responses to A Dream of Christ

  1. Chris says:

    That was awesome, Shotgun…even left me a little shaken.

  2. Hans Gygax says:

    My dreams never make any sense and are a combination of 5,000 ideas, places, and people. I am glad that you were able to have a dream that was like the dreams of old. I wonder if so much movie watching from the past of fantasy and adventure has screwed up our dreams.

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