Diary of a Broken Vessel

I daydream…a lot. I have wild and strange fantasies of the ‘what if’ sort. Pictures and stories of a C.S. Lewis meets J.R.R. Tolkein meets George Lucas meets Poppy Z. Brite meets Brian Fraud meets Nancy A. Collins meets Anne Rice nature. Completely out in left field types of daydreams. Sometimes ideas or pictures just flash in my head and I run with them.

Today, however, was different. At least I think it was different. Well, here is what happened. I was reading and waiting for my morning Damage Control Petty Officer meeting to begin, and I had a picture of a (black?) building with pillars supporting an overhead covering, large glass doors, and dome-like windows. The place reminded me of a theatre or a club or a performance hall of some sort. I blinked my eyes, shook my head, and tried to continue reading my book (I was trying to read this great article by Chuck Lawless).

The image went away, but only for a few seconds before resuming. Again I tried to push it away so I could keep reading. Next I saw myself dressed in a black suit with silver tie (a suit I actually own) setting up blue chairs in front of a stage. Apparently I had set up several rows and was working on the last few rows. To my right was a sound table with a mixer, monitors, and other equipment. I looked up, and on the stage was a podium and a microphone. I knew I had to set up the sound system, but I didn’t know how I was going to do it alone.

Then a couple of young adults entered the building and asked what I was doing. At that point I realized that I was in my thirties. I told them I had to set up the sound system, but I didn’t know how I was going to do it properly by myself. The male of the group said that he knew how to work PA systems and would help me out. I went up on stage and tested the mic as the young man worked the PA system.

Then another small group of young adults asked if they could do the evening’s worship. I knew somehow that they were supposed to be there and I asked them to set up on stage. More small groups came and asked if they could help set up chairs, usher, and each time I somehow knew that these individuals were supposed to be here to help.

Soon many young adults -primarily dressed in the fringe sub-culture attire- began to gather in the seats. Some looked as if they knew they belonged there while others seemed to be searching for something. And again, I somehow knew that these people were all supposed to be there.

The band played, of course I didn’t hear music in this vision, I saw the motions, but heard no sound. Then I found myself standing at the podium with my Bible in hand wondering why I was there. (I could feel goosebumps rise across my skin and I kept trying to pull away from the vision, but I was locked in and there was no escape.) I opened God’s Word, prayed, and began to read: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

I remembered wanting nothing more than to proclaim Christ to those who had come to that forum. Nothing more did I desire than to give them the Gospel. Then the vision, as quickly as it had come, faded.

In the image God provided everything. I only did what I was supposed to do by His directing. Was this a vision, a daydream; am I crazy? I don’t know. I don’t know if it was me, or if it wasn’t, or what. But there was just something so vivid about the image. Something I couldn’t break away from. Did it mean something? Did it not? I don’t know. It has been thirteen hours since that experience and I still cannot shake it.