Chapter 7: SHOES OF THE GOSPEL OF PEACE.

SUDDENLY, I WAS sucked out past the tangled roots of the hallway and through two immense doors. The doors slammed behind me with impressive finality.

Immediately ahead of me, rocks thrust over a wide river of lava. Suffocating heal rolled over me. My breath was coming in jagged starts. My legs became rubbery, and I lost all strength in them. Panicked, I lowered myself carefully onto my hands and knees and inched backward until I could press my back against the safety of the two heavy doors. It was only then that I realized that the lava flow was within an immense cavern. Shadows, like fingers, stretched up the cave walls, shifting with the boiling lava. Sweat was pouring from me-partly from the wilting heal and partly from stark fear. I was up high, and heights frightened me. I thought: "Where is Ruach? I need Him to steady me." At the door a sign read: "Change Shoes." When you cannot think of anything else, you can always follow directions. Mindlessly, I groped around for the shoes mentioned in the sign. The shoes were a pair of white ballet slippers. "Huh!" I said involuntarily and changed my shoes. The shoes from the sheepfold disappeared. Suddenly, two spirits materialized near me. One was the outline of an older woman. Her hair was white and her garment puce. The other spirit looked to be about eight feet tall, with huge muscular arms and legs as large as small trees. He looked formidable to say the least-except that he appeared to be about fifteen years old. Both helpers, being spirit, slipped in and out of clear visibility. Perhaps not so strangely, I began to feel agitated. Beyond my immediate surroundings, I could see a slender iron rod that crossed the boiling lava. The older-looking spirit addressed me. "I am Patience," she said, putting her right hand over her heart, and this is Self-Control. Ruach asked us to accompany you across the River Ire. "Ire," I choked. With every bit of courage I could muster, I rose to my hands and knees and crawled over to the beginning of the suspended rod. "It looks dangerous." "It is dangerous if you are careless," Self-Control volunteered. It was unnerving that he was so casual. "It looks dangerous even if I am not careless." I laughed painfully. I was, however, the only one laughing. Perhaps this was due to underlying resentment in my tone. "All must pass over the River Ire," Self-Control added seriously. "Do people fall off this rod?" I asked. "Yes," Patience said, but she added no encouragement, like, "But you can do it." Instead, she piled discouragement on top of my fears. "The river boils with resentment, disillusionment, and vile hatred toward God and man." As I stared down into that hellish crossing, she paused. Then, with a voice like a cattle prod, said, "You need to begin." I sucked in a quick breath and steadied myself. I knew I had to control myself. "With the Lord's help," I added. And He did help me. As I began to move from acting on raw emotions to using my brain, I thought, "Others have done this. It is not here to kill me but to help me. Anger at the process will do nothing. This must be doable." I squared my shoulders and shakily slid my right foot onto the thin iron rod. It was warm from the lava flow below. I mumbled under my breath, "Lord, help me." Generally, I am not of the temperament that becomes angry. I had found that there are a couple of seconds after one is insulted that the emotions pass the insult on to the brain, and the emotions allow the brain to either react negatively against the insult or decide to let it pass. For years now, I have just let the insult pass. But there was something in this test that was pushing me beyond my usual, casual release of the prods. I held my breath and hoped the shoes were good for something like tightrope walking. I, like most people, have no training in this type of balancing act. So I tried to remember every picture of tightrope walkers I had ever seen: arms out, adjusting balance, all of it. However, even as I inched across the River Ire, not only fear but anger shot through me like electricity. I felt that I should not have been put into this dangerous position. My face flushed, and my hands shook. Actually, I think I slipped into a mild shock, for it had been many years since I had experienced such raw fear and accompanying resentment. But suddenly I was bombarded with both. "Breathe," I told myself. But I could not concentrate on breathing. With every bit of self-control, I tried to move my thinking away from old offenses-even those against God. But my emotions were unstable-they were rather like the ball in a pinball machine, pinging from one emotion to another. I did regain my awareness enough to tell myself that I might be under attack. Then it came to me that such an attack might be coming from the fumes rising from below. "Well, demons can be contained," I said to myself. Out loud, I said, "Leave me, in Jesus' name." The fumes dispersed quickly, but they left me with a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. "So it was demons," I said to myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see many other people struggling to cross their own rods. Angels flew with them as Patience and Self-Control were flying with me. Noticing others engaged in the same struggle gave me courage. If they could do this, then so could I.

Suddenly, I heard a blood-curdling scream. I froze on the metal rod. Someone was falling. I listened to the long fall of the terrorized person-screaming all the way down. "That could have been me," I thought. The thought paralyzed me. Patience asked an uncharacteristic question: "Do you think this is unfair?" "Yes," I choked with spontaneous honesty. Almost as quickly I breathed out "No!" I did not want to let my thinking drop into accusations. I thought of Job's friends who were urging him to curse God and die. It was too easy to accuse. I had to get my thinking straight. "God is always fair," I told myself. "I can't always see it, but I know Him, and I trust Him. I-I love Him." In a dry whisper I said, "Resentment and anger are never the answers." Saying this in some way soothed my heart, which seemed to be hardening. I continued: "We are on earth to represent the Prince of Peace. If you love someone, you trust them. I am here because I trust God," I said to myself. I was growing stronger as I spoke. "With the Lord's help I am going forward." I gritted my teeth, and with sweat pouring from my face, I slid my foot forward on the rod. It wasn't walking so much as sliding my foot forward and then dragging the other to meet it.

Suddenly, vicious dogs rushed to the edge of several protruding rocks, trying to leap high enough to bite me. They startled and shook me. I swayed dangerously over the molten Ire. "Steady," whispered Self-Control. "Do not let the unbelievers frighten you." "Keep your eyes on Christ," Patience added. Self-Control continued to coach me: "Let Christ within you master your fear." I asked within, "How do I do that? Perhaps I do harbor bitterness against unbelievers that persecute me. I know I bristle inside, but I am trying to let Christ remove all hardness of heart from me." I continued to speak internally: "I want to forgive the wrongs done to me. If those who attack me are unsaved, they are like the walking dead and do not understand. If believers, then who knows where they are in growing up into the likeness of Christ. They could be spiritual babies-or teenagers who still feel the pull of the world's illusions. Who knows where anyone is on the road to allowing Christ to replace their fleshly soul with Himself?" Even as the dogs continued snapping at me, they were joined by the roar of lions perilously near me on the rod.

A very angry man roared behind me, "Get going! Who do you think you are?" Another, further behind me on the rod, countered: "Leave her alone. Do you want her to fall?" Being unfairly attacked by those who were obviously believers-for they were walking the same path-rattled me. We were all doing our best to cross the lava. "Stop!" I cried out in panic. I flung my arms out wildly, trying to keep my balance. "I'll stop when you move it," the voice behind me roared. "Go on!" Fury leaped on me like wild beasts. Blood rushed to my face, scalding my eyes. "No! Stop!" both spirits cried. It was difficult because such wrath dug in deeper because believers are family. It hurts more. Then Self-Control whispered in my ear, "Stop and think." The spirit was right. I was rushing into the temporary madness of anger. Was I not old enough in the Lord to be past all of this? Suddenly, like Paul, I was confronted with the ever-present flesh. Like Paul, I cried out to God, "Will I never be free from this flesh?" "No," said Patience calmly, "not as long as you are in your body. But," she added, "the lack of character in others does not excuse the lack of character in you." "Lack of character," I said, as if deflating a balloon. There it was. I had let my emotions drive me into the flesh. I was weary. "Help me," I whispered. "Do as your Lord," said Self-Control. "Take the unrighteous blows as He did for your sake. Vengeance belongs to God." The truth from God's Word pierced my heart. I forced a deep sigh, letting the knot of anger unravel. After a time of silence, I said, "O God, forgive me. Let me live in peace with You and mankind." Asking for forgiveness seemed to help. Slowly the sting from this verbal attack began to ease. Also, my mind began to clear, and the beasts and the dogs backed away. Amazingly, releasing this anger and asking the Lord to help me so unexpectedly buoyed me that I became positively giddy. I sang out, "Let me live as You have said in Your Word: 'All of you be harmonious, sympathetic, brotherly, kindhearted, and humble in spirit; not returning evil for evil or insult for insult, but giving a blessing instead; for you were called for the very purpose that you might inherit a blessing.' As it is better that I suffer for doing what is right, if You should choose, Lord, than if I do that which is wrong."

Oh, praise God, the end was in sight. Suddenly, the fear of the Lord came upon me, for I remembered Moses, who took all manner of abuse for forty years while guiding the children of Israel through the desert, only to strike the Rock in anger and thereby disqualify himself from entering the Promised Land right at the end. "God, help me," I said. "I don't want to have come this far and lose the prize right at the end."

I practically leaped to the solid ground on the far side. I turned to look back at the lava flow. I was sweaty, but I had made it. I had made it! I knew I had passed the test. Suddenly, special armored boots covered the slippers. "Thank You, Lord," I sighed, smiling. Almost immediately, the two spirits and I flew through the opened door of the cavern into the root-clogged hallway. Ruach greeted us all: "Well done, Anna," He said, "and friends." The two angels seemed wonderfully jovial. We were all a little giddy. "We will leave you here," said Patience and Self-Control, bowing. "We have been assigned to you, Anna," said Patience, smiling and looking amazingly younger with the weight of the ordeal behind us. "Therefore, we will see you later," said a strangely more mature-looking Self-Control, smiling. "Thank you, dear friends." I hugged them exuberantly, leaving them somewhat gobsmacked. They smiled sheepishly toward me, then bowed to Ruach and vanished before I had the chance to think through their transformations. Suddenly, I heard that child cry again. I turned my face in that direction, and my body followed. "Ruach," I said, "we're closer."