ZIklag 12.3 - Vision of Light

I Died, and It wasn’t so Bad

Last Night

I had a dream—or maybe it was more than that. Picture this: driving home, cold air biting, darkness pressing in. The headlights pierced the night, throwing long, eerie shadows. And then—just like that—a car drifted dangerously close to the median. For a split second, I imagined everything—my body, my soul—splintering into countless pieces. But what came next wasn’t fear. It wasn’t the end. It was the beginning.

Suddenly, I wasn’t shattered. I was transformed. Every fragment of me became light—pure, radiant beams streaking across the heavens. Imagine skydiving without a parachute, yet feeling nothing but exhilaration, total freedom. Beneath me stretched a vision of the new Eden, breathtaking and alive. Words couldn’t do it justice.

There it was: the Citadel of Zion, perched on a mountaintop, glowing in divine glory. It called to me, beckoning like a lighthouse to a weary sailor. But there were other paths, too. To the left, the Woodlands unfolded, quiet and serene, leading to a cozy cabin by the sea. Its windows glowed with the warm light of a fire, spilling out into the cool night like an invitation.

I wanted to shout: “Come and see! Let’s jam! Let’s celebrate the joy of this place!” Inside, there’d be hot coffee, hearty laughter, and peace—a peace that stretched beyond the walls, where no thorns grew, only fruit. Fruit ripe, sweet, and eternal.

The Joy That Awaits

I woke up knowing this wasn’t just for me. It wasn’t just a dream—it was a reminder. A glimpse of what’s waiting for us, and a promise that the journey is worth every mile. Yes, the road is cold, dark, and uncertain. The shadows close in, and the weight of life can feel unbearable. But what’s on the other side of that median? What lies beyond the edge of our fear?

For those who trust in Christ, the answer is clear. Life doesn’t stop at the crash, at the cold, or at the dark. It bursts forth into light, into glory, into a reality more real than anything we’ve ever known. Zion is waiting. The Citadel is there. The cabin by the sea is ready. The fruit never stops growing, and the warmth never fades.

Here for Now, but Ready for Home

I’m still here, and that’s a good thing. There’s work to do, people to love, and fruit to bear. I’ve been given this time—to glorify God, to live boldly, and to share this incredible news with anyone willing to listen.

But when the time comes for me to go, don’t mourn like those who have no hope. Don’t feel bad for me. Instead, look ahead. Look to Zion, to the shining Citadel, to the warmth of the cabin by the sea. See the coffee steaming on the table, the fruit hanging heavy from the branches, the peace that surpasses all understanding. I’ll be there, waiting to jam, ready to share the joy.

We’re on This Road Together

And you? You’ll be there too—not just in dreams but in the glorious reality that awaits us all. Until that day comes, let’s stay on this road together. Let’s trust in the One who lights our way, who promises a home worth every step. The cold and dark won’t last forever. The moment it looks like the real pain will start, it won’t start at all. Zion calls. Lift up your heads. , The joy is here already.

Every scar is worth it.