A forty-foot wall of scorching flames encircled Declan.  Terrified, he turned around and around, trying desperately to find a way out.  His shoulders slumped when at last, he surrendered to the heat.  Sweat dripped all over his lean, muscular body, his clothes sticking to his skin.  Declan wiped his forehead and eyes.  "It's so hot.  Where am I?"

            "Oh, you pathetic soul." A deep, demonic laugh rumbled the room so much that Declan nearly lost his balance.  "You're in Hell." A face appeared in the flames before him.  The demon smiled, revealing his crooked, jagged teeth.  "Welcome.  My master, Lucifer, has big plans for you."

            Declan lurched backward in shock.  Hell?  He shook his head.  Am I dead?  He tried to wet his dry lips with his tongue to no avail.  The flames had evaporated all of the moisture from his body, leaving him weak and dizzy.  His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground.  He moaned, and as if on cue, thousands of tormented souls wailed and screeched.

            Declan covered his ears, rocking back and forth as he prayed for the gut-wrenching sounds to stop.  Instead, the wails cut right through his soul.  He closed his eyes and whimpered.  "Why am I here?  I'm a good person."

            Unabated, Pastor Meeks' words that he heard years ago entered his mind.  "You won't get saved by being a good person, doing good deeds, or your religion.  You need to believe that Jesus is your Savior and trust Him.  It's one thing to believe in Jesus in your head, but you need to let Him into your heart, cast all of your cares upon Him, and let Jesus guide your life."

            Declan wished that he could have another chance to be a good, God-fearing person like his parents and three younger siblings.  Saddened, Declan looked up and whispered, "I'm sorry, Lord.  I should've let you into my heart."

            The demon cackled.  "That's what many people say." Two large, fiery, warty hands with gnarled fingers and long, thick nails reached for Declan and grabbed him so tight that Declan couldn't move his arms.  "It's too late to save your soul." The demon pulled him closer to the fire, making it difficult for Declan to breathe.  "You're damned here forever."

            Declan kicked his legs wildly.  "No!" Suddenly, everything blurred, and he floated away from the demon.

            Declan jolted up in bed.  His chest heaved, and his heart raced.  Sweat covered his entire body.  He took calming breaths to slow his heart rate.  The dawn’s early light shone through his windows, and he glanced around.  I'm in my bedroom in my new apartment.  Declan raked a hand through his sweaty, raven hair and sighed with relief.  "It was just a terrible nightmare."

            A small voice in his head asked, "Oh, was it?"

Pictures of his hellish dream flooded his mind, and Declan shuddered.  I need to get control of myself.  Swinging his legs off the mattress, he padded to the bathroom.

            After Declan showered and dressed, he still felt the effects of the dream, his mind in complete turmoil.  As he brushed his hair, the demon's laughter resounded in his head, making him jump.  Staggering to his chair in the corner of his room, he flopped in it and covered his face with shaky hands.  Lord, please, help me.

            With his mind preoccupied as he left his bedroom, Declan knocked against a stack of moving boxes, and the top one fell.  Declan knelt, righted the box, and started to put books back in.  He froze when he saw the children's Bible that Pastor Meeks gave him at age three.  His parents had dedicated him to God six months after they found Jesus and had gotten saved.  He opened the cover, spilling a long-forgotten letter on the floor.

            Declan remembered his mom giving the letter to him on his sixteenth birthday.  He had only scanned it, figuring God could wait.

            Idiot!  Declan picked up the letter and took it out of the envelope.  After a minute of staring at Pastor Meeks' neat handwriting, he read.

 

            March 31, 1996

 

            Dear Declan,

 

            Today is Palm Sunday, and your parents are dedicating you to the Lord.  They want to raise you to know and love God.  The Lord loves you and wants a relationship with you.  He wants you to have everlasting life with Him. That being said, it's up to you to invite Jesus into your heart as your Savior.

            I've asked your parents to present this letter to you when you turn sixteen if you haven't been saved and baptized yet.  If that’s the case, I pray you’ll be in a place to seek out me or another pastor to get baptized.  However, before you do, you’ll have to relinquish your pride and stubbornness, repent, and let the Lord guide you.  Jesus is the risen Savior who suffered and died on the cross at Calvary for your sins.  You need to know that with all of your heart and soul.  If you don't, then your baptism will be meaningless.

            If you're ready to receive Jesus as your Savior, pray the sinner’s prayer, which I've attached to this letter.

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                                                                          Yours in Christ,

                                                                             Pastor Meeks

 

            With tears rolling down his cheeks, Declan read and prayed wholeheartedly.  "Dear Heavenly Father, I know that I'm a sinner, and I ask for Your forgiveness.  I believe that You died for my sins and rose from the dead.  I repent of my sins.  I invite You to come into my heart and life.  I want to trust and follow You as my Lord and Savior.  In Jesus' name.  Amen."

             A warm, loving breeze embraced Declan, lightening his heart.

             I’m at peace.

            After sending a silent prayer, thanking God for His grace and mercy, Declan called Pastor Meeks.

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