A hundred voices are mingling with the music of praise to Jesus. He is worthy. He is holy. Beautiful God. I have been looking forward to this weekend. A pastor from the USA has been invited. Something is going to happen. I could sense it three days beforehand.
"Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty", the crowd is singing. For me, it is always something special when guest speakers from other nations attend. It makes the world bigger, wider, and more accessible.
A lightness is taking hold of me. Freedom. The singing seems to move away. A new vision: I am standing on top of a mountain. The wind is caressing my face. Around me a rugged mountain range becomes visible. A person is standing next to me. He points wordlessly to the valley below. I look down. Deep darkness. Darkness. I feel the cold climbing up. Like a slow death, it is coming closer. Jesus takes my hand: "Come", is all he says. He leads me downhill on a small, narrow path. The gloom envelops us as we are reaching the bottom. Engulfs us. My fingers entwine with his. We are entering a cave. Fire seems to be coming out of it. I recognize the path in the glowing beam of light. It leads me deeper inside.
Groans that grow louder the further we dive into this red and orange make me shudder. Clouds of smoke are hanging in the air. My thoughts are wandering to Dante's Inferno. Where am I?
"Help, please, can anyone hear me?"
A rasping voice stands out among the lamentations of others. Its exclamations grow louder coming towards us. We enter a wide room. Everywhere I see chained and bound people. They are screaming, and moaning. Pleading. This must be hell. Then I see it. A creature is crawling on the floor straight towards us. I try to press myself even closer to Jesus.
"Help, help, I can't go on."
The filthy figure has reached us. Its clothes are hanging raggedly on the scrawny body, the hair resembles a wild mane. The dirt on the face is punctuated by long white streaks of tears. The broken eyes are pleading with me. A hand darts forward and clutches my leg. I am amazed at the strength with which the desperate man is pulling himself towards me.
"Please, help me. I need help, please."
Completely overwhelmed by the stench, the heat and the images that open up to me in this glowing darkness, I am staring at this heap of misery. Deep hopelessness lies in his words. My breathing becomes shallow, my throat constricts. I can't help him, what can I do?
"Jesus."
I look at my companion.
"You have to help him. I can't."
Unhappy, I am calling out to Him. Then the unimaginable happens. He turns and looks me straight in the eyes. I am losing myself in them, slipping into the infinity of His love.
"I need to send someone to them!"
He is addressing me directly.
"Are you willing to pay the price so that I can send you to them? So that you can tell them about me?"
The order is clear. I am getting scared. What does it mean? What price does He mean? Jesus makes it sound urgent.
My voice sounds hollow: "Can I have twenty-four hours to think about it?"
Am I allowed to ask that? Shouldn't I say "yes" right away?
The images before my eyes disappear and I hear again: "Holy, holy, holy is the God Lord Almighty."
The faded scenes and screams cannot be banished from my memory. They accompany me through the evening. The night. I am more dismayed by my reaction than by the question itself. How dare I ask for time to think? I am simply too stupid. The Lord of Lords has asked me – the worthless nonentity – if I will serve for him and I have asked for time to think.
Next morning the conference continues. I hear heavenly sounds again and raise my hands in praise to God.
"Draw me close to you …"
"Closer to your heart Lord, I need you, please Lord, I want to serve for you", my soul whispers.
"If it is not too late, Jesus, send me! I am ready to pay the price."
And again I am standing on top of the mountain. Jesus is there and again points towards the deep darkness. Something is different this time though. Something white is coming from the right. Light. Glaring. Beautiful.
It is coming closer and I recognize it. Millions of angels. Led by Him. The darkness is overrun. Defeated. The prisoners freed.
"You're all I want, you're all I've ever needed."
The worship space is filled with freedom and peace. The vision is alive in me. Connecting deeply with my spirit. Walking for Him. That is all I want. To give Him back a piece of what He has given me. I love Him. He is the lover of my heart. How can I not serve? Leave everything behind and follow Him?"
***
For years, this vision burned within me: to follow God's calling and set captives free. This calling echoes the words of Isaiah 61:1-4: to liberate those bound by pain and shame, offering them a path from darkness to light. In 2008, this vision took root, though I didn't yet understand the journey it would require. Fourteen years of travel, training, and personal transformation followed, as God equipped me to enter the "basements" of others' lives, those places of deep hurt and hiddenness. He walked with me through my struggles, giving me back my voice so I could speak against the world's hatred and guide others toward their voice and their light.
Isaiah 61 and 35 intertwine: freedom and restored voices go hand in hand. This God-given vision transcends all boundaries. Recently, as I wrestled with how to integrate the many pieces of my journey, the Holy Spirit offered a powerful image: a table, where we could assemble the puzzle together. Instead of starting with the familiar edges, I was guided to begin at the heart of the matter. "I am Limitless," He whispered.
And then, a gift: Jesus reached into His own being and offered me His heart. "This is the centerpiece of this ministry," He said. "My love, My longing—this is the foundation." I received this precious, fragile gift, knowing it held within it the promise of love, life, freedom, and abundant living. “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for your love is more delightful than wine” (Song of Songs).
In November 2024, in Victoria, Vancouver Island, Jesus gave that vision a name: 'Unbound Within'. Unbeknownst to me then, "Unbound" finds its roots in Isaiah 61. Our God is limitless, His love reaching into the deepest, darkest basements. Jesus' sacrifice makes life possible for all who turn to Him.
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