“Front, front, front; phony, phony, phony; you have lost your personality; you have wasted your life” was the reproach being hurled at my being. “You have never included ME! Your ‘I will, I will, I will’ doctrine, your self-sufficiency, your ‘I can do anything’ doctrine stinks with conceit!”

I tried to say the Lord’s Prayer, not out loud, but in my spirit. I tried many, many times to say the Prayer. I never succeeded in getting through to the end. “Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done” was as far as I could get. “Thy will be done, Thy will be done, Thy will be done!” Finally it dawned on me - not my will, but Thy will be done. I had been so convinced that I could give purpose, direction, and fulfillment to my life that I had no need to ask anyone for direction or help. I was to learn differently.

The next moment I saw that our whole backyard was flooded, and I perceived myself running down a steep incline to get to the faucet to turn off the water as quickly as possible. I stubbed my right toe severely on a mound of earth our boys had formed for a bicycle ramp. This scene had actually happened a few months earlier. Now it was happening to me again, but in another dimension. Was I hallucinating or having a vision? Again and again I saw myself running down the incline, stubbing my toe. Finally, I asked in these words, “God, what are you trying to show me?” “Slow down, Peter!” came the reply. The setting changed to a large field of boulders, of which there were

many different sizes. The boulders were dying and crying out in agony for someone to save them, to rescue them. I did not understand what I saw. In my spirit I asked, “God, what does this mean?”

It was thus explained to me, “The boulders represent the people who are losing their souls. They are dying slowly; their hearts are turning to stone. They are crying out for help, but no one can hear them, because pride prevents them from using their lips and tongues to ask for help.”

“God,” I asked, “what do you want me to do?”

“Learn the language of those who are dying,” I understood Him to say. To this day I remember that scene - the agonizing silent scream of the imprisoned souls within those boulders and God’s instructions to me. For many years I wept and wept whenever I remembered that particular scene or told someone about it.

The scene changed again. The very foundations of our world were being dislodged. Every planet in our solar system left its normal orbit. Their new direction made the collision with our planet inevitable. Maybe five or six more seconds and our world would be destroyed. It was awesome, frightening, inevitable; this would be the end that had been predicted. How could I experience this and live?

A voice spoke, “Is there anyone who is willing to stand in the gap? Is there anyone who will give up his life to stay the hand of judgment?”

It seemed as if all of heaven were assembled, straining, waiting, agonizing, until I made a decision. It had to be my decision. I was taxed to the very limit of my strength. “Lord, use me,” I finally said. Then it seemed as if all of heaven relaxed and slowly the planets returned to their established orbits. Our world was safe again.

The scene shifted. I was standing at the edge of an abyss, gripping a rope, which was long and went deep down into some cavern. Two persons, a man and a woman, were hanging onto the rope. I liked the woman. For a long time I strained to remember who she was, but I was never able to identify her. The man was a very close friend. When I recognized who he really was, I received a terrible shock. His true identity was Judas Iscariot. What was I to do?

A voice asked, “Are you willing to pull on the rope and strain to bring the two to the top?”

A terrifying struggle tore me to pieces on the inside. How could I let go without destroying the woman? How could I ever live with myself knowing that the woman was forever condemned to live in hell? The two hanging onto the rope were not pleading with me; they were just hanging on. The dialogue was only within my soul. I had to decide. Guilt would be mine forever if I made the wrong choice.

One day I will share with you, dear reader, what happened and how I have interpreted the vision. The interpretation came over many years and many struggles. I believe it is filled with healing and answers for those who have also had unusual visions and dreams. But for those who have that strong need to learn of the interpretation now, we invite you to be a guest in our home. We have a special place set aside for you called “The Upper Room.”

The world did not explode that night of February 1, 1970, but my world did. Everything that I had seen as valuable crumbled. For a while I felt like a ghost town. Strange thoughts and feelings tried to take up residence in my shattered life. Everyone around me tried, but neither family nor friend, priest, counselor nor psychiatrist could reassemble the success-oriented hard driven personality of Peter D. Laue. I admit, what was left of my life was not pretty, but at least it was real. Without the veneer of my accomplishments and titles, I felt naked and vulnerable. But my need to become real was now more urgent than my need to be applauded. I learned that heaven was not a place for people with titles, but for the lost and found. I learned that our own accomplishments and goodness more often open the gates of hell for us than the gates of heaven.

I learned that heaven was for real people who had decided to follow in the steps of Jesus regardless of the cost. Those who would be willing to ask before taking a single step, “What would Jesus do?” That night I took the first step and said to my soul, “I will return to my Father’s house.” It was not an easy journey. The world in me and the world around me did not want to let me go.

After traveling along this new road for many miles, these chastening, yet encouraging words were spoken to me through one of God’s prophets:

By Mary Hartle

I believe with all my heart that God wants to speak these same words He has spoken to me to many, many of His children who have turned their faces and hearts towards “Home.” If these words speak to your heart as you read them, please receive them as a gift from your heavenly Father and be encouraged.

Serving Jesus as Stretcher Bearer, Peter D. Laue