Ministry

I opened the door and looked into a long corridor. It was familiar, yet I did not know where I was. I bounded in, completely sure of the path that lie before me. The corridor was long and narrow and had many jogs and twisting turns. On the walls to either side was a mural which engulfed the totality of the surface on both sides of the corridor. It painted a tapestry of light, and darkness. Of happiness and despair. Contained within the tapestry were faces. Many faces, which filled the mural. Each step I took, more of the mystery of the story which the mural told was revealed to me. Faces, everywhere faces. They had eyes yet were clearly blind. They had ears but I was certain that they could not hear. My eyes saw, and could not unsee, my ears heard and could not forget. Each step took a weeks’ time in linear measurement, and now I was 42 steps into the corridor, yet the end was not in sight, but somehow, I was sure it was a way off in the distance. With each step I took, the certainty of my direction became less clear. The faces around me consumed the oxygen in the corridor while screaming at me that they could not breathe. The sound of metal crashing against metal deafened me to the core of my nerves. It was the sound of a hammer smashing against a chisel. The edge on the chisel was sharp, and with each blow of the hammer, it lodged itself into the granite mass of my soul, cutting out a small piece, until it was reduced to a slender pillar which I was certain could not support the weight of my spiritual being. Those which belonged to the faces passed the hammer along as I walked further down the corridor, each one taking their turn to strike a blow.
Why did I freely choose that first step which led me in? Now, I felt as though I could do nothing but simply collapse on the floor and let the mass of faces consume my inner being, until I was reduced to a vapor which would dissipate in an instant, leaving no trace. I opened my mouth to scream back at them, but no sound came out. They did not have the capacity to hear anyway. I attempted to lift my arms in protest, but they would not rise from my side. The faces would be unable see my desperate plea even if my arms could rise up before them. Then as a bird flew in and landed on my shoulder, the end came into focus. There was another door. Underneath it I could see a brilliant light. I knew I could not lay down. I could not allow the treachery of the hammer and chisel to wear me away into oblivion. I must head for the door. Still a way off, the door swung open. I could see my future there. I saw myself sitting in a rocking chair with the sun shining on my face. My eyes closed and head back. A look of peaceful contentment warmed what was left of my whittled away soul. The birds sang a symphony which resonated in my heart like a warm rush of water over a smooth rounded rock surface. An abundance growing up around me out of the ground. My being divided in that moment. I could choose only a singular reality. To get to the door and beyond into the garden, I knew I would have to leverage that future against the bleak, lonely, disparaging present which I now occupied. The divisions within me spoke, fighting against each other.
My earthly, fleshly temporally minded self struggled to reach the door. My spiritual, God centered, eternally minded soul longed to remain trapped in the corridor. I had previously, and relentlessly sought the perfect will of God for my life. But what if that meant I could not escape the corridor? What if that meant that I would be trapped with the screaming blinded, ear-less faces? I knew in that instant that it was ok to lay down on the floor. I had felt the peace of God engulf me. I knew He would not allow the faces to reduce me to that vapor and dissipate me away. I collapsed and fell asleep on the cold hard floor. The last thing I saw was the door leading into the garden closing slowly off in the distance. I knew once it closed, Nothing I could do could force it open again. In the quiet stillness of that moment I had peace. I had contentment. I knew that is where I belonged. I knew that lying there on the corridor floor, that somehow, some way, it would all be ok. I was complete. In that moment. That split second before I closed my eyes, the screaming stopped, the faces faded away before me. I still did not know where I was. But I knew it was my home.