The Fullness of Time

Lukas Kincaid still lay motionless in the hospital, but something else was going on, something strange. Though unconscious, he had the sensation of floating outside his body, weightless and drifting, seeing and not seeing, moving but not able to control his movements. He looked at his hands, and down at the rest of his body, or what he thought was his body. They were his hands and body, but somehow different. There was a glass-like sheen to everything, and a luminescence surrounding his frame that had the appearance of an electrical charge. Drifting, spinning, he initially sees nothing except himself, but slowly he began to see flashes of light.
He realized he should be frightened, but he was strangely calm, as if all the cares and pains of life were on hold. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing audible came out. He thought, “What is happening to me? Am I dead? Am I dreaming? Yes, that must be it, I’m dreaming.” At that moment, he felt a force outside himself pull him around so that he was looking down. What he saw shocked him for a moment. He saw his room in the ICU, where he was lying on his back in bed. He was able to read his name and room number on a white board hanging on the wall, with the names of the on-duty nurses just below his. One of the nurses was holding a clipboard and talking with the other nurse. As he strained to see what was on the clipboard, the unseen “force” pushed him closer. It was his patient chart. He was able to read the details about his injuries, and comments about medications and treatment protocols. He was unable to hear what the nurses were saying; then, as if someone gradually turned up a volume knob, their conversation became clear.
“…yes, and Dr. Mason has directed that we increase the dosage on these two medications. There is increased concern now about blood clots, and his breathing has become a bit more labored.”
Just at that moment, the alarm on the machine monitoring Lukas’ blood pressure began to sound off. One of the nurses moved over to check it. By that time, his blood pressure was reading within normal parameters, so she reset the alarm, and returned to her conversation with the other nurse who picked up where they left off.
“With his labored breathing, do you think we need to put him back on the breathing machine?”
“No, I don’t think so, not yet anyway. Besides, Dr. Mason is aware of it. All he’s asking us to do is to continue monitoring the situation, and to let him know if it gets any worse. I do feel sorry for the poor guy though. Did you know that he’s one of the richest people in the country, maybe the whole world, I don’t know? His condition seems to be getting worse, not better. To be honest, I’m not sure he’s going to make it.”
With that, Lukas was spun back rapidly and, as if thrown forcefully forward, came to a sudden stop on something, thud, landing on his back. He thought, “If I’m not already dead, that would have done it.”
He sat up and looked around. He cleared his throat and discovered he could now speak. “That’s better,” he said. “Oh, I can hear too.” He looked at his hands and the rest of his body and saw that the sheen and electrical charge were gone. “Back to normal,” he thought. He stood up, and noticed that he was in a pastoral scene, with green meadows, tall trees, small wild life roaming here and there, and mountains off in the distance. The colors were vibrant, almost glowing in their brilliance. He heard the sound of children’s voices echoing from somewhere below. They were laughing and shouting at each other as if playing a game of some sort. He turned around to see what was behind him. To his surprise, he was standing in front of a rustic cabin. “Hey, I know this place,” he said. “It’s like the cabin I stayed in one summer when I attended Church Camp.”
He walked up the steps and approached the door. Afraid to venture inside, he called out, “Hello, is anyone there?” Not receiving a response, he grasped the doorknob, turned it, and opened the door. Moving tentatively, he stepped inside. Looking around, he saw everything he remembered being there: the potbelly stove for chilly evenings, the couch and chairs, several bunk beds where he and other young boys had slept, a refrigerator for between meals snacks and drinks, and even the two bookcases stacked with Bibles, other fun books, and various board games for leisure-time activities. He smiled, remembering the great times he had that twelfth summer, the happiest of his life.
“Yes, Lukas. It was a wonderful time in your life,” came a voice from behind him.
Turning around, he was amazed to see his old Camp Counselor, smiling broadly, standing right in front of him. “Mr. Campbell?” he said, while at the same time thinking, “But … that’s not possible!”
“Well, not exactly, but you can call me that if you like,” spoke the specter, laughing.