The door slammed shut, leaving me in a cold, empty room. I stood still, listening to the echo of keys clanking as the lock was secured. Silence pressed in—I was alone. A shadow crept across my mind, closing me off from within. This place was strange, filled with harsh sounds, rancid smells, and faces drained of color and joy.
A voice crackled over the PA system: “Free Time.” Moments later, my cell door creaked open, and I stepped from my cage into the corridor. Unsure of where to go, I shuffled down the long, dim hallway. In a barred window, I caught sight of my reflection. Pausing, I felt a faint urge to grieve, but no tears would come. The fire that once burned in my heart had turned to ash. My reflection revealed the battles I had fought—against demons within and without—etched deep upon my face.
Weakened by despair, my strength drained away. Like a wind-up toy at its end, I slid down the wall until I lay curled upon the cold, unforgiving floor. Darkness surrounded me.
Then, a flicker caught my eye—a glimmer of light filtering through a grimy skylight above. Tears welled as I realized how far I had fallen, how hope had slipped away, leaving me here.
In my grief, surrounded by strange sounds, foul odors, and lifeless faces, my thoughts turned back to the light I had once known. With hot tears streaming, I whispered a prayer: “Please God, help me find my way back to the light, the colors, the fragrances of life. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
At once, I felt a presence. My name was spoken, and a warm, dry breeze brushed across my face, drying my tears. It was as if the Savior’s hand had touched me. In that moment, the emptiness lifted. Comfort and healing filled the hollow places, and color returned to my face, and to the world around me.
I was changed. The lock was gone, the door opened, and I remembered who I am.
"Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, “I have no pleasure in them”; before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars are darkened and the clouds return after the rain, in the day when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those who look through the windows are dimmed, and the doors on the street are shut—when the sound of the grinding is low, and one rises up at the sound of a bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low— they are afraid also of what is high, and terrors are in the way; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags itself along,[a] and desire fails, because man is going to his eternal home, and the mourners go about the streets— before the silver cord is snapped, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher is shattered at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern, and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it." - King Solomon, The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem; book of Ecclesiastes Chapter 12 (ESV)
