and when they had prayed, they laid their hands on them.
The Book of Acts 6:6
This dream has haunted my sleeping in some form since my childhood. I have visited this place countless times. It frustrates me, frightens me, and shames me because I always turn away, knowing that I am powerless to resolve it.
And so again I stood there in the murky glow of a dream. I felt my heart begin to accelerate, my chest tighten, and my hands grew moist with anxiety.
But this time was different.
I looked down the space below the stairs and I considered the fall. I felt the weight of my conviction build in my soul and I determined that the cost of the fall was nothing when compared to the worth of the vision.
I was done standing still.
I lifted my right foot and I took the stairwell, throwing my full weight into the step...
...and the flight of steps instantly folded in on itself like fabric sliding off the edge of a table.
As I fell I raised my hands above my head in surrender. Somehow the fear had evaporated along with the facade of my way. I felt soothed by the feel of the air, like falling through warm water. This was the feel of peace.
My feet landed solidly, reminding me of the way a gymnast sticks a landing from the high bar. I straightened my knees and back, lowered my arms and took a slow, amazed look around me.
I was exactly where I was meant to be.
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