Dreams are unusual things.
The vivid movie screen of my mind playing a macabre vision of terrorists hacking the head from their hostage, and somehow I am next. But the terrorist turns to me and says my death will take longer, and that I will be dismembered slowly.
Hands Bound, I am marched down a long hallway. Psalm 23 and John 4:11 is pouring from my heart through my lips and the hallway grows darker and the terrorists fade away.
Waking up exhausted, I reach for my bible, and let the Word wash over me, and the remnant of the vicious dream fades away.