I’m in a field of wheat, the sun shines and the wheat stretches as far as I can see. There is no one and nothing else in this field of wheat. Then I look across the field, and see an exquisite chapel. I try to take a step towards it, but I can’t. I see that my feet are nailed to a cross. As I look back up I scream as nails pierce my hands. I’m surrounded by darkness. I look across to see another cross with a man nailed to it.

I fall to my knees, surrounded by the field of wheat again. When I look up again I see the man on the cross. His eyes are bloodshot and only just visible behind the bruises and blood that cover his face. I bury my head in my hands.

A hand touches my shoulder and I look up to see the same man, cleansed and clothed in white. He looks down on me with compassion, but I bury my head in my hands again. I refuse to move and he comes to kneel at my side. When I lift up my head I’m no longer in the field of wheat, I’m in a warzone. I see mud, shrapnel, barbed wire and bodies everywhere in the lifeless landscape.

The man in white helps me to my feet and slowly I walk forward. The man in white always walks beside me, never leaving. He stands with me, lifts me up when I fall and directs me when I’m unsure.

As we walk I see stalks of wheat sprout from the war torn ground. Others join me on the walk and beside each of them walks the same man that walks beside me. We walk and talk together until they leave me. Their journey leads them down different paths, but the man in white always goes with them. But he also remains next to me, always.

I open my eyes. My room is dark, but slowly I see my window brighten. I look outside and see the rising sun, the beginning of a new day…