The Tunnel
by harvestgal Ndaguba

I was walking through the forest, but I was not alone. My closest and most dearest friend was leading me. He was silent, but I could feel the deep concern He had in His heart. I could sense a grieving on the inside of Him. He was not filling me with the joy He usually gave me or causing me to jump and shout or lovingly teaching and explaining to me the things He wanted me to know. He was just gently leading me with grief in His heart. After a while, I began to get hungry and suggested that we stop and I eat a quick snack, but He said, "No, Please follow," with urgency in His voice.

After going up hill and down hill, across streams and through vines and sticker bushes, I was almost out of breath and suggested we take a little rest. He sternly said, "No," then He touched my hand and I was strengthened.

Finally, we came to a tunnel. It was dark and spooky looking. I wanted to get away from it, but He stopped and was silent outside the tunnel. When I looked into His eyes, I could see He was overwhelmed with grief. "What's the matter," I asked, shocked at His overwhelming emotion. "Listen," He whispered. I stuck my ear as close to the tunnel as I could with out going in and listened.

Immediately, I could hear something faintly, but not good enough to tell what it was. It sounded like people, multitudes and multitudes of people. I said to my close friend, "I cannot hear good enough to tell what it is." "Open your heart and open your eyes , listen, feel and see," He whispered. I opened my heart and cleared my mind and listened again. Suddenly, the noise got louder. It was a frightening sound, that made my heart jump and my blood race through my veins. It was the sound of shrieking cries and torturous screaming. I could hear the agony and horror of multitudes and multitudes of people. I could hear the gnashing of teeth. I opened my eyes and looked. The sight was astonishing. The tunnel was filled with fire, darkness and terrifying monstrous looking creatures, that were beating the people and torturing them with out mercy.

I fell to the ground outside the tunnel and began to weep uncontrollably. My whole body shook and trembled. Then my friend touched me. I opened my eyes and looked into the tunnel again. Still the horrible sight was before me. There were multitudes of people from every race, kindred and tongue. There were children, youth, adults and elderly. The handicapped were there; the blind, retarded, deaf and lame. Those who were rich, middle class and poor. Those who were graceful and kindhearted were there. Those who'd given their lives and finances to help people were there. Even those who were sweet, loving, compassionate, loyal with fun-loving, humorous personalities were there.

Some I could faintly recognize as old school friends, neighbors, co-workers and even family. Yet, their faces were contorted, almost beyond recognition, with endless agony. Children and youth screamed and panicked, searching frantically for a way out and finding none. I turned away from the tunnel.

My friend stood very close to me. We were now sharing each others grief. No words could express how we felt, so we just held each other. Then he began to comfort me. "Who are they, Lord," I finally managed to ask. "These are the people I loved so much that I gave up everything I had. I became like them and took there sin. I even shed my blood for them, but no one ever told them. My friends and followers all knew, but they did not tell them. They were too busy with their own lives and problems. I realized some of them, I was responsible for. I began to cry so hard I thought my guts would come out.

After a while, He sought to comfort me and I would not be comforted. He then called me sternly by name. I with held my tears and gave Him my full attention. "Get up!" He said, with much hope and zeal." "Get up and let's go. There is still time to reach them." Then I looked before me and saw people... you people, reading this story. And so now We say to you, "Get up and let's go!, There is still time to reach them!!!"

Erica Ndaguba is married to a wonderful Nigerian man and they have 4 wonderful kids.  They've been married 7 years.  She's lived 6 years on the mission field and returned to the States 4 years ago.  She used to teach ESL but now she's a fulltime housewife and mother.

Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com







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