It is darkness all around, except for a glimmer of light that barely illuminates a broken and crumpled body on the floor. It is me, and I am laying motionless. Unable to move, I have been beaten down from the years of battle with Cystic Fibrosis. It has left me weak and worn, and I am unconscious. Various hideous creatures lurk in the shadows, surrounding my lifeless body. They inch in closer, as death itself looks to deal the final blow. But someone stands in between me and the creatures. They cannot get any closer because Jesus himself is standing there, armed with a two-edged sword, staring them down with eyes of fire. He is like a roaring lion! He is my protector, guarding my broken body with a fierce tenacity as I have never seen. His voice is as commanding as thunder, yet strangely calm and still... "She is MINE. And you will not touch her." As the minions then began to dissipate, he knelt down, scooped my broken body into his arms, and cradled me.
As I reflect again on this image, I am reminded of where my hope comes from. My focus is not to be on what is seen, but on what is unseen. There is nothing I can do about CF, just as there is nothing I can do about how the course of government has progressed thus far. The healthcare projection now, and what it means for me does not look good... But as in the vision -- Jesus never has, nor will he EVER -- let the enemy destroy me. Never. I am my beloved's always :) And I need not fear, no matter the battle that lies ahead.
