I had a dream. It wasn’t a prophetic one. I wouldn’t even call it a nightmare, but it left a dull ache in my chest.

In my dream, I was a student and the teacher called me for a report. Everyone left except the teacher; he waited for me to finish my report. This teacher was very handsome, charming, and gentle yet exuded authority. I was drawn to him, amazed that there was a teacher like him.

He praised me, said I was excellent, and that I was his favorite student. That flattery drew me even more to him like a moth to a flame.

He invited me to a gathering. With enthusiasm, I went with him. I was standing beside him in a dimly lit room when he began teaching us. He pointed at something — a picture or statue, I couldn’t really remember — and told us we should pray to “him” (the statue or picture) because “he” is the true god.

I opened my mouth and was about to refute that statement as false, and I knew who the true living God is when everyone agreed with what the teacher had said. They all showed great devotion towards this “god” that I had to clamp my lips shut for fear of them hurting me.

The teacher looked at me, expecting me to agree with him. “Ah, okay,” I said.

The gathering ended, and I was the first to leave the room. I passed by the window when I overheard the teacher say, “Send two men after her then kill her. Too bad — she was one of my favorites.”

Heart pounding in my chest, I quickly ran back home. There was a loose plank on the floor. I lifted it up and I hid underneath the floor. Then two men with guns came.

While they were searching for me, I kept thinking that I would die a coward’s death, that I did not even defend my faith nor rebuke the teacher for teaching everyone about the wrong god.

I should’ve stood up for the truth and not trembled in fear just because they were too many. I should’ve proclaimed that the God of Israel is the true God because that is the truth. But I was too scared to even do that. I was so ashamed of myself. God was surely going to abandon me.

I could see through the narrow gaps between two wooden planks that one man began to inspect the floors. He didn’t seem to notice me for he went the other way. But then, his companion stepped on the floor where I was hiding and began poking the gap with a knife.

He found me.

He raised his gun and pointed it at me and was about to shoot when someone came to rescue me.

Then… I woke up.

That dream bothered me a lot until I began to wonder. What if in the future something similar would happen, would I stand up and boldly declare my faith that Jesus is Lord, or would I cower and tremble in fear? Would I be able to choose death over renouncing my faith in the one true living God? Or would I try to save myself by keeping still and quiet?

I still have no answers to these questions until now.