The Grave

Two men stand side-by-side at the edge of an open grave gazing intently downward into it. There is no casket visible inside the open hole, just black soil six feet below covering the bottom like a freshly paved parking lot.

 

The ground below is evenly levelled, revealing that somebody exercised a whole lot of care making sure that this final destination place would be a comfortable resting area for whoever the occupant of this grave might be.

The workman must have used a carpenter’s level to get the floor so pristine; there seems to be no visible lumps.

 

The four walls are supported by wooden planks, almost two inches thick, and for some reason are painted deep red, giving the walls the appearance of blood; you can say they are blood red.     

For the longest time both men are quiet, they speak neither to each other or themselves, it is an uncanny silence, they just stare downward scrutinizing every inch of this vacant hole.

What are they thinking, and why do they not say anything?

The man on the left has his arms folded together across his chest, while the man on the right has his hands coupled behind the middle of his back. They look like statues, for there is not much body movement from either of them.

Suddenly, a gust of bone-chilling wind billows up from the bottom of the grave, and hits their faces as if they walked into a wall, causing both of them to gasp for air because of the shock of that which was unexpected.   

The sudden rush of wind broke their mysterious silence, as the man on the left hollers as if he has just witnessed a ghost; fear grips his heart like a hand squeezing the life out of it.

He could be having a heart attack.

The man on the right struggles briefly and is then able to get his breath back; it does not take long for him to regain his composure.

He sees the anguish that the other man is in, so he reaches out and puts his hand on his shoulder, and the comforting touch of his hand brings immediate relief to this distraught individual.

This tormented soul finds comfort yet he is speechless, nevertheless he wonders inwardly at what just happened.

If you could read his mind you may see his thoughts swirling around inside his head.

Is his soul required of him today?

The man on the right, sensing that the other man is now over his hysteria, turns and heads away from the open grave, but he then decides to momentarily reverse his direction, and turns back and points with an outstretched hand to the supporting walls that look blood red.

He looks into the eyes of the man on the left and quietly speaks:

“My friend, the blood of  Jesus Christ is between you and whatever is at the bottom of that grave.”

You can tell that the man was surprised yet relieved at the words he just heard, but before he could respond I woke up. 

 

Picture: CC0 Public Domain