The Abduction

I had a dream last night. I dreamt about a woman who lived next door to me. Not in reality, but in wherever I lived in the dream, the woman was my next door neighbor. I went to see her about something I can't now recall, but during this visit, her night gown top fell open, and I noticed she had a tube coming out of her chest. It then dawned on me that she was sick or had been hurt. I asked about her condition....was it a surgery, had she been shot or in a car accident? She turned to me, this faceless, nameless, woman and said "No, I've been kidnapped."

I was so stunned by her answer. I turned to see her husband nodding in the background. I wanted to sit down and hear her story about such a terrifying event...find out how long had she been gone....why the tube in her chest? But, as most dreams do, it was gone in a blink, a whisper, a split-second, sub-conscience thought.

Of course, I realize in the glow of this morning's dawn, that this woman was me. Even though she had no face or name, she was me and the people like me, who at some point in their
smooth-sailing lives, got wrapped up in a blanket of fear, pain and disbelief, shoved into a dark van full of medical procedures, tests, and treatments, and held captive, against our will, for months, sometime years, wondering what it was going to take to get back home again. We are wondering if our captors will ever go away and leave us alone on the side of the road....wondering if our ransom will ever be paid. We wonder if our loved ones, who have tried so desperately to get us back, to have us return to a normal life...the way things were before our abduction by cancer.... can continue to hold up during the strain, the agony and anxiousness of knowing we are
in such a dire and life-threatening situation. We wonder and we worry and we wade through the days of our bodies being held hostage.

Sometimes, the position of being the captive is exhausting. The captor is always looking over my shoulder, watching my daily moves, reacting to how free and active and happy I am that day....waiting to ambush me with a pain, a twinge, exhaustion, a small headache. It is then that I know I am still under the thumb, still being held in a dark, dank basement somewhere in the back of my mind by the cancer who came in 2001, set me free in 2002, and kidnapped me again in 2004. This time, I am still waiting for my freedom.

I have all the faith that freedom will come. I will not live in bondage forever. One day, one way,
I will be free from my kidnapper. We hope, pray, and try everything possible to gain my freedom, to satisfy the conditions of my release, here on this earth...in this life. I have walked this path with absolute certainty that my destiny is to bring great things to the glory of God in my triumphs from the evil that hunts, holds, and haunts me....that the ultimate victory will be ours.

The dream about the kidnapped lady aptly described and reminded me that for now, I am still a hostage. That me and those who love me are waiting, hoping, praying for my release and safe return. That we will continue to try to find the right amount of ransom, to figure out what it is exactly that will break the hold and set me free.

Until then, in case you know me and worry about me and pray for me, please remember that in reality, unlike in dreams, my ransom has been paid. It was paid on a hill on a cross on a Friday.
I am just trying to patiently wait for the kidnapper to live up to his end of the bargain. Like all kidnappings, the evil offender is not to be trusted. There are no guarantees from the captor's side, we can only do what we can to fulfill the demands on our side. But freedom, sweet freedom, has always been mine for the taking, for the asking, from a man who was crucified for me and home sweet home has always been just around the corner. I have no doubt, my friends, that one day, I will walk out of the dark, dark basement.

"the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." Matthew 20:28