August 23, 2001
Seek thy hand of trust

I had a dream last night; a minister had trapped me inside a church. I heard thunder; it was very destructive, and almost impossible to escape its wrath. The church caved in, and people were injured. I chose to stay and help the fallen—the sky was dark, mystified, and filled with sacrifice. This wasn’t a super hero’s dream… for I had become bloodied. The words of those who brought judgment against me had dug holes into the skin of my tattered being. Maybe I died… left with chapters of emptiness.