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I currently have the privilege of being on a traveling ministry team called the King's Players. We travel to various places in various states and perform Christian plays that share the gospel and challenge your faith. One of our absolute favourites is Catacombs, a story of faith and persecution. While we were performing last Sunday night, I was hit harder than I have been for any other performance. My character goes through lots of emotional trauma. She's a teenage girl who recently lost her parents to Christian persecution, and now she's hiding with seven others in an abandoned church in the mountains. It's wintertime and our contact from the Christian underground still hasn't come. It's been four weeks, and our food supply has diminished greatly.
As I sat backstage, waiting for my cue to re-enter, I thought about what Amy must have been thinking and feeling. This is what I came up with:
A gunshot rang throughout the air, then, quickly, another one followed it.
"Oh my gosh...Oooh my gosh...no...no, please, God...help..." I shook. I cried. My heart and my breathing was racing. I was hyperventilating in my solitary room as sobs poured from my lips and tears fell from my eyes. Four. That made four; four shots have filled the air since I've been locked up in this room - five have been heard since I woke up this morning. Yet, I've experienced six deaths since we've been hiding out in this old, abandoned church. That means only two of us from our makeshift family are left.
And now I'm sitting alone in a room with my hands tied behind my back. There's a chill in the air and an eerie silence fills it...except, of course, for the four gunshots that rang out in the lonely night sky. Sometimes I think I hear shouting. Sometimes I think I hear footsteps nearby. Every once in a while, I see a shadow - sometimes multiple - pass through the cracks of the door. Give it some time, then I'd hear another gunshot. Right now, however, only silence can be heard and darkness can be seen. My neck ached from Slater - the police man that is presumably shooting our family one-by-one for our faith. I couldn't stop shaking from the fear coursing through my body; yet, I felt peace coming for me.
"God," I muttered as I hung my head low and tears dripped from my face. "Daddy, Abba...please...give me the strength I need to stand strong on your foundation. Give this same strength to Elijah. We don't want to deny You... Daddy, I'm ready to come home." Sobs escaped my lips, but I swallowed them just as quickly because a shadow passed by my door, then two passed back the other way.
I sat, still shaking, remembering what life was like before we became persecuted for our faith. I remembered the sunshine, the laughter, the freedom... What life was like without the worries of being arrested, tortured, killed...
A gunshot rang through the air. That made five. Seven deaths total within the last three days. Of our makeshift family, only I remained. This time, though, the sobs didn't come, the shaking stopped, the tears ceased to make their way down my cheeks. The pace of my breaths evened. I saw a shadow outside my door. The chill in the air made my breath visible.
"God," I whispered and watched as my breaths surrounded my being, "I'm ready." Peace overcame my entire being as my Father wrapped His comforting arms around me.
The door of my room flew open as Williams, Slater's guard, came in, gun in hand, and shoved me out the door. I was taken to the room in which Slater was torturing Elijah's mind by trying to persuade him to deny Christ, using us as motive. Elijah was beaten, but he wouldn't be defeated.
I fell to my knees as Williams gave me one last shove. My neck still ached and my head hung low, my hair curtained my face. I could hear Elijah on the bench next to me, crying. Slater ran his fingers through my hair.
"She is such a pretty thing, isn't she?" I fought, disgusted, as he tried to tilt my face to look his way. "C'mon," he muttered, but I jerked my head in the other direction, barely making eye contact with Elijah when Slater yelled,
"LOOK AT ME!" He grabbed a large chunk of my hair and jerked my head back towards him. A loud gasp of pain and shock left me. With anger burning in my body, my eyes met his. He went back to gently stroking my hair and spoke softly as he said, "Now...I'm a married man myself, so you don't need to be afraid of me." He paused as his hand rested against my cheek, a terrifying grin stretched across his face.
"Williams!" he yelled,"How would you like to take this girl in the back and do whatever you please with her?"
"No!" I shrieked as I fought and wriggled my way out of his hands. His right arm quickly hooked around my neck and pulled me against his side. He held his gun to my head as I desperately gasped for air. Despite the turmoil and pain, no tears came. There was an odd peace amidst the chaos of it all.
"Alright!" Elijah yelled. Once more, my eyes locked on his. God, strengthen him, give him Your peace.
"So you agree, then?" Slater asked Elijah harshly.
"NO!" I screamed before Elijah could even consider answering him. "I don't know what's going on here, but any agreement made with this man would be like making a covenant with the devil. Please, don't do it." I tried to jerk away from him, but Slater's grasp tightened so immensely that I fell nearly limp in his big arms.
"But Amy..." Elijah whimpered.
"It's okay," I gasped, "They can't hurt me," Slater's arm tightened even more.
"Not where it really matters."
In a fit of rage and disgust, Slater threw me across the room towards Williams.
"GET HER OUT OF HERE!" The words erupted from Slater's lips and I swear they shook the room. Williams grabbed me by my tied up arms and pushed me outside, into the snow.
In shock from the cold, my legs gave out beneath me. I fell to my knees, my face inches from the snow that crunched under me. Once more, I watched as my breaths visibly engulfed the area around my being. I heard Williams shuffling behind me as he prepped the gun in his hands. The snap of him cocking the gun forced me to look up. Shock slammed my body as I took in the scene before me. It felt as if a horse stomped on my chest. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. The pain slashed through me until it slaughtered me, but I could do nothing about it. The empty, lifeless bodies of those I love lay strewn across the area, their still-warm blood painted the snow.
Williams spoke to me, but I couldn't understand him. Everything was a blur, and all I could hear was an overwhelming ringing rush through the night sky.
"God," I mumbled, barely loud enough for even myself to hear. "Daddy, I'm ready to come home."
Williams stepped in front of me. My eyes held his gaze. No more pain, no more anger, only numbing peace could be found in my eyes. He raised his gun to my head, right between my eyes, but I continued to hold his stare. The ringing grew louder and louder till it roared in my ears. He pulled the trigger.
Blackout.
"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain.
For the former things have passed away."
