Pieces Of Grace

Chapter 15

I sat across from Alya in the small café we often frequented, the hum of chatter around us blending into a soothing background noise. I stirred my coffee absently, my mind still tangled in the dream I had the previous night. Alya, sensing my distraction, reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

"Alice, what's on your mind?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I had this dream last night. It was so vivid, so... intense. I can't stop thinking about it."

Alya leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "Tell me about it."

I closed my eyes, allowing the memory to wash over me. "The light was overwhelming. It wasn't the warm, familiar glow of a summer sun, but a pure, white, blinding brightness. I wandered through it, my steps unsure, the air thick with a strange, sweet scent. It felt like I was walking on clouds, weightless and adrift."

Alya nodded, urging me to continue. I could see the concern deepening in her eyes.

"Then, I saw him," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "A man, strong and regal, but with a gentle face etched with lines of weariness. He was fighting, not with swords or shields, but with bare hands against a creature of monstrous size. Its scales were black as night, its eyes burning with a malevolent fire. I didn't recognize it then, but the creature exuded a primal fear that sent shivers down my spine."

I paused, feeling the weight of the dream settle over me again. "The man fought bravely, but the creature was relentless. Its claws ripped at his clothes, its fiery breath scorching the air. Then, suddenly, he turned towards me. His eyes, filled with a deep, knowing sadness, met mine. He spoke, his voice a low rumble, 'Philippians 4:6-7.'"

Alya's eyes widened in recognition. "That's a Bible verse. Didn't we talk about one like that at church last Sunday?

I nodded, my thoughts racing. "The words echoed in my head, a strange melody that both calmed and unsettled me. I didn't understand their meaning, but there was a power in them, a promise, a hope."

Alya squeezed my hand again, her expression serious. "What happened next?"

"He then moved away, his back to me," I continued. "He knelt by the ground, his hands carefully planting a thorny bush. It looked ordinary, yet the thorns were sharp, and they pierced his hands. Blood trickled down his fingers, but he didn't seem to notice, his face fixed in a steady gaze."

Alya frowned, her brow furrowing. "That sounds intense."

"It was," I agreed. "The words, 'Philippians 4:6-7,' whispered in my mind again. I looked around, searching for its source. My eyes fell upon my Bible, lying open on the ground. It had somehow appeared in this strange world of light. The pages were turned to Philippians, the verses highlighted."

Alya's grip on my hand tightened. "And then?"

"Then, a blinding white light flashed, dazzling me. I shielded my eyes, unable to see. When the light faded, the creature was upon me, its fiery breath scorching my skin. I shrieked, a primal scream of terror."

Alya's eyes were wide with concern. "Alice, that's terrifying."

I nodded, feeling the residual fear from the dream. "I woke up, my heart pounding in my chest. The room was dark, the lingering scent of rain still in the air. I could feel the chill of the sheets against my skin, the weight of the covers a welcome pressure. My dream faded, leaving behind only the echo of the man's words, 'Philippians 4:6-7.' The words haunted me, a whisper of a truth I couldn't grasp."

Alya sat back, processing everything I had said. "The man, the creature, the thorny bush – all of it felt like a riddle I couldn't solve. But the words, the fleeting glimpse of a truth, stayed with me, a burning ember in my soul. They were a promise, a whisper of hope, a fragment of a story yet to be understood."

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of my dream hanging between us. Alya finally spoke, her voice gentle but firm. "Alice, maybe this dream is trying to tell you something. Something important."

I nodded slowly, feeling a sense of clarity begin to form. "I think you're right, Alya. But what?"

Alya smiled, her eyes shining with determination. "We'll figure it out together. Whatever it means, we'll face it head-on. You're not alone, Alice."

As we left the café, I felt a sense of hope begin to bloom in my chest. The dream, though unsettling, seemed to hold a deeper meaning. And with Alya by my side, I knew I had the strength to uncover it.

Later that evening, as we sat in my room, the glow of the lamp casting soft shadows on the walls, Alya broke the silence. "Alice, have you ever had a dream like that before?"

I paused, thinking back. "Actually, yes. The night I learned about the crash that landed my dad in the hospital, I had a similar dream. The same man, the same creature, even the same words."

Alya's eyes widened. "That's... eerie. Do you remember what Philippians 4:6-7 says?"

I shook my head. "Not exactly. Do you?"

Alya nodded, her expression thoughtful. "It says, 'Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.'"

I let the words sink in, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. "Maybe the dream is trying to tell me to find peace, to trust that things will work out."

Alya squeezed my hand, her eyes full of reassurance. "I think that's exactly what it means. Your dad is strong, Alice. He'll pull through. And so will you."

As I lay in bed that night, Alya's words and the message of the dream echoed in my mind. The fear and uncertainty that had gripped me began to loosen its hold. For the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope, a sense of peace beginning to take root. And with Alya by my side, I knew I could face whatever came next.