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It’s time… to loose the cords of Orion.
The darkness was complete. No sound, no light, nothing.
A single drop fell on me from the damp, chilly stone above, startling me in the silence and total blackness.
I tensed to turn over, to lift myself off the cold, smooth rock, but a stab of pain overwhelmed me.
“God,” I thought, “what’s going on? Where am I?” Everything in me suddenly reached out for Him, for Home.
For an answer.
In the deep silence following my desperate, silent cry, a slow rhythm began seeping into my bones. It was not yet audible, but I felt it, a slow, insistent drumbeat, gradually increasing in tempo. Another rhythm joined it, faster, more complex, and higher. Now I could hear them, and a single high note began, a long, pure, crystalline call to worship.
A compelling, pulsing melody began, and everything in me seemed to rise, to respond in a surge of delight that cared not about my pain and despair. A joy beyond all circumstances suddenly poured into my heart, and in the freezing darkness I began to laugh.
A space opened in my mind as though a curtain had drawn back to reveal an empty stage. In that space an image emerged, a vision that was not a vision, a window through immeasurable distance. Thousands stood in rapt silence, facing into blinding light, with expressions of awe and joy on their faces.
Then a few stepped out from the ranks of white-robed angels and began to dance.
As their grace and beauty brought tears to my eyes and an improvised song of worship to my lips, I realized once again the peace of knowing Him, and being His. The joy of being loved by the Creator himself. The freedom to take the adventure he sends, and trust him for the outcome.
He had answered me. He had shown me “what was going on,” not where I was, but where it really mattered. And it was enough. I listened to their song, and watched their dance, and slept again.
The next time I awoke, the bruises were gone, and there was no trace of dried blood on my face or head. I stood carefully, and found I could put weight on the knee.
“Thank you, Father,” I whispered.