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The following is an outstanding example of what "amplified" means. I have chosen two rescue scenes which illustrate how I have chosen to expand and enhance what Bunyan wrote. I must confess that these two scenes are "amplified" much more than other parts of the book, but they are so much fun that I couldn't resist. But I think they will give you a good idea of what to expect.

For your comparison I have included first an original scene as written by Bunyan and then followed it with the amplification. I hope you enjoy reading these two adventure scenes as much as I enjoyed writing them. Be sure to download the larger free sample by CLICKING HERE. The actual hardcover book is now available. To Order CLICK HERE or See BOOKS For more details.

 

The New Amplified
Pilgrim's Progress
By
Jim Pappas

Some comparisons with the original

The escape scene from
Giant Despair

Bunyan's original text

"Well, on Saturday about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in prayer till almost break of day.
Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed, brake out into this passionate speech: "What a fool," quoth he, "am I to lie in a stinking dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in my bosom called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in Doubting Castle." Then said Hopeful, "That is good news, good brother: pluck it out of thy bosom, and try."
Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the dungeon door, whose bolt, as he turned the key, gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he went to the outward door that leads into the castle yard, and with his key opened that door also. After, he went to the iron gate, for that must be opened, too; but that lock went damnable hard, yet the key did open it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed; but that gate, as it opened, made such a creaking, that it waked Giant Despair, who, hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to fail; for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after them. Then they went on, and came to the King's highway again, and so were safe because they were out of his jurisdiction."

New Amplified Version

But about this time, Christian remembered the good example of Paul and Silas in their prison and determined that he, too, would consult duty rather than inclination. Therefore, near midnight the prisoners began to sing hymns, and to praise God, and to pray without ceasing! And as they did so their courage began to rise and rise again-higher and higher still, until Christian declared, "What a fool!"
"What?" asked Hopeful, amazed at the strength of his partner's voice.
"What a fool I have been!" he exclaimed again, even more loudly. "To lie here in a stinking dungeon when I might just as easily have walked at liberty!"
"What are you saying?" asked Hopeful, fearing that Christian's mind had at long last snapped.
"Look! Look!" cried Christian, reverently pulling something from around his neck.
"'Tis too dark to see," Hopeful reminded his companion, still fearing for Christian's sanity and yet hoping against hope that something good was in the wind.
"Then, here, feel this," said Christian, handing over his precious treasure, hands trembling with excitement.
"Why, 'tis a key," marveled Hopeful. "A tiny, rusty-feeling key!"
"Aye. Rusty because in my stupidness I have not used it sooner!"
"What key is this?"
"'Tis called the key of promise! The key of promise!!"
"What is it for?"
"This key is given to pilgrims to make them 'partakers of the divine nature,'" Christian answered confidently. "Also to give them power over all evil, and to release them from any lock made in the land of Doubt!"
"But, will it work for we who have wandered out of the way?" queried Hopeful, afraid to let his hopes rise too high.
"Absolutely yes!" affirmed Christian boldly. "I am persuaded that the Word of promise will open any lock in a thousand castles of Doubt."
"Well, then go to it, my brother. My eyes long to see the smile of God's sun."
"No more than mine, I assure you," said Christian, fetching back his key. "Here, let me at these chains." Then Christian, hands trembling with excitement, tried to fumble the key into the locks of his leg irons.
"How goes it?" asked Hopeful in an agony of suspense.
"I don't know yet. My fingers are cold and my hands are shaking too much. Oh, Lord, help me to apply thy promise! Ah! There!"
"Is it in?"
"Not yet . . . but . . . wait! Ah! There! In it goes! And, why, it seems to be just the right size!"
"The right size, you say?" cried Hopeful, himself now trembling with excitement. "Could it really be the right size?"
"Aye," grunted Christian, trying desperately to turn the key against the rust of the lock. "As our needs are, so shall the promise be. Ah! There!" cried Christian as the lock dropped open. "Free!"
"Did it really work?" asked Hopeful eagerly. "Oh, Christian, did it?"
"Feel for yourself!" declared Christian as he triumphantly directed Hopeful's hands to the opened irons.
"Oh!" exclaimed Hopeful joyfully. "It worked! It really did work!"
"Ah, to be able to move again," rejoiced Christian, cautiously stretching his stiffened legs freely for the first time in over a week. "Praise God! Here! Let me have at your chains."
"My," said Hopeful reverently as he felt Christian's quaking hands searching out the keyhole. "'Tis a wonderfully fine picklock you've got yourself."
"Aye. 'Twas forged on the anvil of heaven by Him that came to set the captives free," said Christian, working up a cold sweat as he once again struggled against the rust of Doubt.
"Where did you get it?"
"'Twas given to me by Charity down in the Valley of Humility. Ah! There!" cried Christian victoriously, as the heavy manacles clanked noisily to the floor. "You are free!"
"Free!" marveled Hopeful. "Am I really free?"
"Aye, lad. Free as a bird!"
"Oh, praise God!" exclaimed Hopeful, rubbing his swollen ankles. "Ahhh! It feels soooo good to move my poor legs again."
"Aye, praise God indeed!" concurred Christian. "I wonder why I did not think of this key sooner?"
"I can't imagine," replied Hopeful, "but for sure, late is better than never."
"And after all this time," puzzled Christian, "I wonder what made me think of it now?"
"Do you think it might have been because we began to sing praises?" inquired Hopeful.
"Yes," replied Christian, after a moment's reflection. "Yes! That's it! Then 'tis no wonder!"
"No wonder what?" asked Hopeful.
"That God's word commands us to 'rejoice always,' and 'in all things to give thanks.' If we had looked to the Word of God and obeyed, instead of looking at circumstances and feeling sorry for ourselves, we would have used the power of promise long ere this."
"Well, having discovered the wonderful power of praise and promise, let us keep on moving," urged Hopeful, eager to see the light. "Shall we next try the door?"
"Yes. Ohhh, my aching back," groaned Christian as he creaked to his feet. "Ugh. My bones feel as rusty as these doors."
"I do hope I can still stand me up after all this time," grunted Hopeful as he rose and painfully shuffled toward the door. Then, after a few moments of searching out the lock by feel, his heart sank within him and he groaned aloud. "Ohhh! Oh no!"
"What's wrong?" asked Christian. "Why such deep sighs?"
"Look at the lock, Christian!"
"What about it?"
"What about it? Why, here, put your hands where mine are-here on the lock. See how much bigger it is compared to the ones on our chains."
"Aye," replied Christian, faith undaunted. "But now you put your hands where mine are-here on the promise. Go on, feel!"
So, in the darkness, Hopeful fumble fingered his trembling way down Christian's arm to the little key.
"Why, the promise has grown to meet the problem! The key is larger!"
"Aye," said Christian reverently. And even in the dark, Hopeful could tell that Christian wore a smile.
"Then can we trust that God's promise will grow to meet our needs?"
"So do I believe. 'T'would certainly be in keeping with the ways of God. And look! 'Tis too dim to tell for sure, but I think the key is becoming shiny with increased use!"
"Yes!" agreed Hopeful, noting a faint glow in the darkness. "Perhaps it shines of its own power."
"I wouldn't doubt it. I do know that this lock is easier to find than the last. Here, let me at it."
With that, Christian thrust the larger key into the larger lock.
"Why, it goes in easy!"
"Aye! And see how it turns! (click) With ease!"
"Away with this chain!" grunted Hopeful, wrestling with the weighty links until they snaked into a rusty pile at his feet. "Now help me push this rusty door! (creak) It opens! Praise God!"
"Come," commanded Christian. "Off to the yard gate. Peter will not be the only one to leave an empty cell!"
"Aye," agreed Hopeful, his heart pounding as much with joy as from his strenuous exertions. "Off with us!"
And so, they turned and continued their flight from the foggy dungeon of Despair. Their steps carried them down the crooked corridor, up the winding stairs, over, around, and under various obstacles. At last they came into the courtyard all white with bones, and worked their way to the yard gate. Here their conversation was in low whispers because just above this gate was the bedroom window of the giants.
"Here be the gate to the yard," whispered Christian. "Let us deploy our key."
"Will it really work?"
"Hopeful be thy name. Let hopeful be thy words."
"I shall try," agreed Hopeful, chagrined at his unbelief. "Try the lock."
"It goes in. Ugh," grunted Christian, "albeit, not so easy as at the inner gate."
"But does it open the lock?"
"I don't know," whispered Christian hoarsely as he pushed and pulled, fumbled and fiddled-and failed. "Oh dear."
"Oh, it be all stiff and rusty. We are doomed!"
"Shhh! Hush these words of doubt!" commanded Christian sternly. "The key of promise works only for those who choose to believe!"
"Choose? Then . . . then may I simply choose to believe in God's promise? Even if I do not feel belief?"
"Aye. Faith is not feeling. Choose to believe based upon the evidence of what God has done for us in the past."
"Why! . . . then . . . why glory be!" cried Hopeful in a whispered shout.
"What is it?" queried Christian, amazed at the cheerful glow on his young companion's face.
"I have chosen to believe! And God has made it a fact! I do believe! Try again brother, for now your key will certainly open the gate."
"Alright," agreed Christian, renewing his attack on the rusty lock of Doubt.
"Does it yield yet to the attack of faith?"
"No. Not . . . y . . . Wait! Yes! Yes! I think so! Hear it squeaking!"
"Yes! Go hard at it, brother!" encouraged Hopeful with a furtive glance up at the open window, whence bellowed forth the snores of two slumbering giants.
"It opens! Victorious promise opens the doors of doubt!" cried Christian in his loudest stage whisper. Then putting his shoulder to the gate he forced it open. But not without a loud squawk of rusty protest.
"I knew it would! I knew it would!" Hopeful shouted out loud. "Three cheers for the promises of God! Hip hip hurrah! Hip . . ."
"Shhh!" hissed Christian, clapping his hand over Hopeful's mouth and looking fearfully up at the apartment window. There the curtains puffed outwards and sucked inwards in rhyme with the rumble of snoring giants. "We are not out yet!"
Meanwhile, in their dusty apartment, Despair and Diffidence were enjoying ghoulish dreams-dreams wherein they tortured pilgrims in the worst ways imaginable. Then Diffidence's dream dissolved into a nightmare. In it there was an escape and she heard prisoners fiddling with the yard gate! Then she shuddered involuntarily as she heard the lock give way before the power of a magic golden key. And then, horror of horrors! She heard a cheer of triumph! At this, she awoke with a start and viciously jabbed her bony elbow into Despair's ribs. "Hey!" she grunted into her husband's ear.
"Ooomph!" puffed Despair, suddenly dreaming that one of his prisoners had captured his cudgel and whacked him a good one in the ribs. "Why you ugly little. . . ."
"Hey! Wake up!" screeched the witch into his ear.
"Huh, Wha'?" he mumbled fuzzily. "Who hit me?"
"Did you hear something, my dearest?" croaked Diffidence nervously.
"Wha'?" grumbled the semi-comatose monster. "Wuss' wrong?"
"Did you hear cheering?" she persisted, although fearing a violent reaction from Despair.
"What!" he roared, snapping alert as the despised word pricked a seldom used portion of his foggy brain. "Wha'dg you say?"
"I could have sworn I heard someone cheering," she insisted, straining her ears for any hint that perhaps her horrific nightmare had some basis in reality.
"Cheering!" scoffed Despair with a snort. "My dear! Cheering hath not been heard in the land of Doubt since . . . since . . . since . . . uh . . . Hmmm, actually, I don't think it has ever been heard here. No! Never! Nor ever shall it be! Get thee back to sleep, eh?"
"Yes, dear," yawned Diffidence reluctantly as she fluffed up her greasy pillow and yanked the sooty comforter over her hideous head.
As she was settling back into her grimy nest, her large black cat leaped to the windowsill and, tail twitching angrily side to side, stared intently at two emaciated fugitives easing their way through the partially opened gate. Then, through the foggy gloom of Doubt, he watched as they made ready to break for the main castle gate.
"Now what?" queried Hopeful.
"Now we dash across the courtyard, attack the great iron gate, and escape across the moat," Christian declared confidently, straining to see across the foggy boneyard.
"Shall we have at it?"
"Aye. But do tell, is it day or night?"
"Well, the sun be all hidden by the clouds of Doubt, but it must be day for all the chickens are clucking and scratching about."
"Unless the moon be hotly bright. Is the way clear?"
"Yes," whispered Hopeful. "The curtains still be drawn on the giant's apartment."
"Good. Next time they both snore together we'll dash across the courtyard and be out in no time. You cover our backs with prayer."
"I shall," promised Hopeful fervently.
"Ready?"
"Ready," affirmed Hopeful, casting one last edgy glance at the window. "Watch out you don't take a tumble over all the rolly skulls."
"I'm off!" Christian whispered loudly, pushing off the mossy wall of the castle and dashing over, around, and between the scattered piles of bones.
"I'm right behind!"
And so they ran the bony gauntlet and soon reached the relative safety of the great yard gate.
"We made it!" rejoiced Hopeful, bent over with his hands on his knees and panting heavily. "Hurry . . . (pant pant) with the lock."
This Christian had already proceeded to do and marveled to see how large his key had grown during their quick dash across the bone yard.
"How goes it?" quizzed Hopeful, glancing nervously back at the window.
"Hmmm . . . hard," grunted Christian, struggling to insert the key into the huge rust-clogged lock. "'Tis rusty and old. I don't think the key of promise has been brought against it very often."
"But be of good courage. Our God shall prevail over Despair."
"By faith I know 'tis true," grimaced Christian as he finally penetrated the lock with his shiny key. "But we should have been at this gate last week, before it got so rusty."
"Yea, but better late than never. How goes it?"
"Hard," grunted Christian, cold sweat springing to his brow, "and yet it seems to budge, ugh, a bit."
"Hurry," hissed Hopeful frantically. "I see the giantess opening the drapes of her window."
"Lord, keep Thy promise strong, for I am about to hang all my weight upon it!"
"God be with thee," encouraged Hopeful, frozen as statuesque as one of Diffidence's pagan idols.
"He is," grunted Christian through clenched teeth.
"Does it open for you?" whispered Hopeful, watching tensely as Diffidence picked up her black cat.
"No," confessed Christian, fatigued from his strenuous exertions. "I have lost too much weight. Here, I'll put this leg bone through the loop and hang on it. There. Here goes. Ugh."
"Did it work?"
"No. Come add your pounds to mine."
"Might we not break the key?" objected Hopeful, fearful of destroying their only hope.
"If the promise be not strong enough to hold all our weight, then the entire pilgrimage be in vain. "Quick!" he hissed. "Grab on!"
"All right," obeyed Hopeful, reaching up for a grip on the bone. "Here goes."
Meanwhile, unable to resume sleep after such a harrowing nightmare, the giantess had roused herself and plucked her black cat, Lucifer, off the windowsill to lend herself a bit of comfort. She had just drawn the curtains to feast her eyes on the grimy, grey fog of Doubt, when she detected motion at the far yard-gate. Her eyes narrowed to angry slits as she watched one emaciated prisoner join another in hanging all his weight on a large shiny key. Then she saw the key turn and heard the lock squeak. Dropping the cat in alarm, she snatched the covers off Despair, kicked him soundly on his goose-bumped bottom and shrieked wildly, "Despair! Despair!"
"Hmmm?" he mumbled through clenched eyes as he sent a hairy paw in search of his lost comforter.
"Wake up!" she screeched into his hairy ear. "Do you hear me? Wake up this instant!"
"What do you want, wench?" he growled, cracking one bleary eye and scowling angrily from the depths of his hangover.
"How many times must I tell you not to let the prisoners out to exercise in the open air?" she shouted furiously. "If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times! Sunshine and exercise are tools of the enemy and only serve to increase the prisoner's health and lift their spirits!"
"What are you talking about, wife!" protested Despair, indignant to be the target of such a base accusation. "Me never lets me prisoners out into the open air. Sunshine be the death of me and my power over them!"
"Well then," squawked she, "why are those two scrawny pilgrims out? And why does one of them have a great big, shiny key that fits into your outer gate?"
"What!" He snorted in utter disbelief.
"Look for yourself," she screeched, drawing aside the curtains.
"You be crazy!" he bellowed as he finally sat up in bed and rubbed bleary eyes with hands still greasy from his last feast. "Stark raving crazy!"
"Just listen," she challenged as the sounds of a huge rusty hinge sent its complaining squawk echoing across the castle yard.
"What?" he yelled, heart pounding in a raging panic. "That be me gate opening!"
"And those be thy prisoners escaping!" she screamed, pointing to the large castle gate, hanging open on its hinges.
"Me club! Me club!" he commanded, exploding out of bed and landing on the cat's tail. The cat, feeling unjustly abused, returned the favor with a spitting hiss and a nasty scratch on a bare leg. "Ow!" roared Despair, sweeping the snarling, spitting ball of fur rolling down the stairs, while he jerked on his leather britches. "Get me me club!" he screamed. "None shall escape the kingdom of Doubt or the rule of Despair!"
"Run fast, dear," she urged, handing him his huge, spiked club. "They be crossing the moat!"
"I'm going! I'm going! I'm going!" he bellowed, his huge voice trailing off as he clattered down the stairs in his iron war shoes while still fastening his belt.
Now, by this time the prisoners were across the moat and hobbling along as quickly as stiff bones would allow. But, no matter how fast they tried to go, Despair went all the faster and it was not long before they heard his great clomping steps gaining on them, moment by moment. Then said Christian desperately, "Come quickly, friend Hopeful. I hear the steps of the giant!"
"Aye," panted Hopeful weakly. "But we are weak and ill-fed, and he is fat with the blood of martyrs. 'Twill yet take a miracle. Will your key open the clouds?"
"And why not? Oh, God of promise," he prayed earnestly as he limped along, "open unto us the sun of righteousness and blind the eyes of Despair."
At that moment Despair came bounding heavily across the moat, waving his blood-stained war club and uttering evil imprecations. "Don't think you can escape Despair so easy as that, knaves! Me have never opened me prison gates before this. Nor shall me now! Grrraugh!"
"He's coming across the moat!" cried Christian, casting a furtive glance back at the fearsome spectacle.
"Oh, where is the sun?" pleaded Hopeful, trying hard to control his rising terror.
"It will come," encouraged Christian, his faith growing to meet their need.
"When?" pleaded Hopeful fearfully.
"Just when we need it most."
"That 'tis now!"
"Quick! Turn in here," suggested Christian, turning down a little used by-lane.
"All right," obeyed Hopeful trustingly.
"A dead end!" cried Christian, screeching to a halt before a dense wall of briars and thorns.
"Oh, no! 'Tis a trap!" groaned Hopeful, turning to flee only to find the only escape blocked by the hulking form of giant Despair. He stood grinning sadistically and swinging his war club menacingly from side to side.
"Yes," concurred Despair with an evil chuckle. "Heh, heh, heh. A trap. And now me's got you. You're too weak to get away from me! Grrrr," he snarled viciously as he began closing for the kill.
Then the Spirit of the Holy One came mightily upon Christian who, casting off all fear, pointed his key at the giant's head and said, "Stand back or I'll use this key of promise to cut off your head!"
"Ptah!" spat Despair, advancing step by measured step. "Me curse thee by the gods of discouragement and depression, of dungeons and dragons. Me shall tear thee limb from limb and feed thee to the fish of the moat!"
"You come to me with a club and in the name of the god of force," cried Christian, advancing fearlessly to the conflict. "But I come to you in the name of the God of courage, whom you have defied!"
At this, Hopeful was amazed beyond measure. My! To see a starved and tottering prisoner, armed with nothing but a simple golden key advancing to give combat to a fearful giant. It was marvelous beyond words! Even the giant was taken aback for a moment and stopped to consider this exceeding rare spectacle. Then Christian stepped forward, bolder yet, saying, "Stand aside, feeble giant. For I swear that if you give not back, this promise of power shall pierce you to the marrow and lay your bones for the sun to bleach!"
"Promise! Bah! Me fears not a mere promise," grizzled Despair with a guttural growl.
"One last warning, Despair. Stand back and no more defy the God of creation, for if you persist in your folly you shall learn to your regret that the Lord saves not with sword or spear but by the power of His promise. Now back with you lest you show all the earth that there is still a prayer-hearing God in Israel!"
"Pah!" sneered the giant raising the visor on his war helmet in disdainful abandon. Then he rushed forward with great clomping stomps, club a'swinging and gnashing his teeth in furious anger. "Now me's got thee," he snarled, closing Christian into a corner and raising his bloody club, "and I'll tear thy head from thy . . ."
But! Just at this extreme moment when death was but a club stroke away, God split the clouds of Doubt and unveiled the sun shining in its noonday glory.
"The sun!" cried Hopeful joyously.
"Eh? Oh, no! Oh, no!" shrieked the giant, shuddering convulsively from head to heel. "Oh, me! The sun shines through! Got to get me into the shade before me fits start to act up! Got to get me into the shade! Aaugh! Out, cursed light!"
"Quick!" cried Hopeful. "Use your key to reflect the sun into his eyes!"
"Yes!" said Christian, catching a drop of golden sun and splashing its scorching ray, full force into Despair's unshielded eyes.
"Aauugghh!" screamed the helpless tyrant, dropping his club and clawing at screaming eyes as he staggered about like a drunkard. "No! Put up thy sword! Get thee gone! Aaauuuggghhh!"
"Come!" shouted Hopeful as Despair staggered into a thorny briar bush and drew greenish-blue blood from a score of cuts and scratches. "Time now to flee!"
"Nay," called Christian, harrying the giant with his reflected lightning bolt. "I'll hold him off with the light while you get a good start."
"Aaauuuggghhh! Take it away!" snuffled Despair, now fallen to his knees and groveling in the dust.
"I'll not leave you," cried out Hopeful courageously.
"'Twas my fault we came here!" commanded Christian as he jockeyed his way into a sunnier patch of light. "Therefore I shall bring up the rear. Go!"
"All right. But hurry," called Hopeful as he reluctantly turned to flee. Meanwhile, Despair had gone deep into his worst paroxysm of convulsions ever and was reduced to a babbling, gurgling blob of writhing pain.
"Come!" called Hopeful from far up the trail.
"I'm right behind you," answered Christian as he stabbed Despair in the eye with one last blazing flash from his key. "Go on!"
"Away! Please, take it away!" the cowardly giant continued to sob long after Christian and Hopeful had gotten far out of range of his doubtful threats.
And so, by the promise alone, did they escape from the hand of Despair. From thence, by light of full sun, they traveled on through the low-lying swamps of Doubt, through the dark, mossy forests of Doubt, through the windswept moorlands of Doubt, across the fair meadows of Doubt and, finally, back to the stile of Doubt that had first enticed them out of the way. There they noticed, for the first time, that the stile was stoutly built, well maintained, and easy to climb coming off the right way. But going back it was slippery and rickety and scarcely traveled at all. So they cautiously got them back onto the King's highway, where they were totally safe from Despair.

 

Last moments from
The Battle with Apollyon

Bunyan's original text
Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to Christian, and, wrestling with him, gave him a dreadfal fall; and, with that, Christian's sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, "I am sure of thee now." And, with that, he had almost pressed him to death, so the Christian began to despair of life. But, as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man, Christian nimbly reached out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, "Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy; when I fall I shall arise; and, with that, gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give back, as one that had received his mortal wound. Christian, perceiving that, made at him again, saying, "Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us." And, with that, Apollyon spread forth his dragon's wings, and sped away, that Christian for a season saw him no more.

New Amplified Version
Apollyon, seeing opportunity for a kill, began to circle tighter, round and round so as to make Christian dizzy. Then, seizing upon a weak moment, he rushed in like a flood, caught hold of Christian and, with a skill born of centuries of wrestling with flesh and blood, gave him a brutal throw to the ground. This knocked the breath from Christian's breast and sent his sword skittering just out of reach.
"Aha!" gloated Apollyon, savouring the moment. "No sword! Now shall I show you what I do to traitors!"
Then Apollyon, seeking to prolong and deepen the sufferings of death, pressed himself upon Christian to crush out his life and to smother him with his sulphurous breath.
"Dead man, Graceless," he fumed hot into his face. "You are a dead man."
And so it seemed, for Christian could scarcely find air to breathe. And what little air he could suck in was so befouled and sulphurous that it seared his lungs and turned his vision a blurry gray. Seeing that his situation was beyond hope (as did Jacob in his trouble), Christian yielded up his earthly life and committed the keeping of his soul to God. But it was not in God's plan to lose such a brave pilgrim so early on in his journey. Therefore, as Apollyon arrogantly reached for his last fiery dart, God filled Christian with a new supply of hope and strength. Instantly Christian's mind and vision cleared, and in good hope he reached out his hand, praying that God would guide it to his sword. Apollyon, already enjoying sure victory, only smirked a lion-lipped grin for the joy of seeing Christian's hand desperately stretching, scratching, searching, and clawing for his weapon.
"Dead man, sword-seeker," he hissed hatefully, "nothing but a dead man." Then Christian touched the haft of his sword with the tip of his finger and felt a new thrill of hope surge through his breast. But, stretch and struggle as he might, his reach still exceeded his grasp. Apollyon, gloating over Christian's futile efforts, sneered triumphantly and then pressed his entire bone-crushing weight onto Christian's chest. Hissing and fuming sulphurous breath into his face he taunted Christian, saying, "Your Master has left you to die, Graceless. Your sword lies but half an inch away, and your heavenly Lover leaves it lie. You are a fool!"
Thus did Apollyon seek to send Christian to a hopeless grave. But still, with heaven-born faith, Christian continued to flail about for that precious weapon, so near, and yet, so far. At last God, having shown the onlooking universe that Christian would never surrender his faith, no matter how bad appearances might be, gave the nod to one of the eagerly waiting Shining Ones. Instantly there was a flash of light, and a sword slapped firmly into that desperate, clutching hand.
"Aha!" cried Christian, feeling his body surge with new strength from on high and grasping the instrument of deliverance with viselike grip. "Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy!" he shouted triumphantly. "When I fall, I shall arise!" And with that, Christian gave him a deadly thrust which tore the scab off of that old, mortal wound inflicted so long ago on Mount Calvary. Screaming in pain and rage, the brute reared and fell back shrieking out his disbelief, "Auughh! Noooo! This cannot be! You were a dead man!"
Christian, perceiving that his blow had gone home, sprang to his feet and laid into him again, crying triumphantly, "Nay, but alive, for 'in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us.' Take that, foul fiend! Hah!"
So with latter-rain power, Christian slashed and hacked at the beast so fiercely as to force him into a scampering retreat. "Ah! What happened? You come at me as a new man!"
"And so I am!" shouted Christian, pursuing Apollyon's head with a swish/slash of his razor-sharp sword. "For I have waited upon the Lord and He hath renewed my strength. 'I shall mount up on wings like an eagle' and quite put an end to you, defeated foe!"
Apollyon, in spite of all his serpentine twisting and turning, saw fur and bloody scales flying fast as snow and soon judged it wiser to part with pride rather than life. Therefore he shamelessly turned tail, crying out, "Auughh! Away with me!" But, unwilling to settle for partial victory, Christian flew at his backside with holy indignation and chipped out a few bloody divits from his scaly back, calling out, "What! Will you flee from a mere man?"
"Nay, but more than a mere man," whimpered the giant whose flame had gone cold by reason of his fearful wounds, "for you have compassed me with all the armies of heaven!"
"A thing you will do well to remember," shouted Christian, with a zinging slash of his sword, "'for nothing is apparently more helpless, and yet really more invincible, than a soul that feels its nothingness and relies wholly upon God.'"
"So say you now in the flush of victory!" cried Apollyon, finally limping up enough speed to get him airborne. "But it will be a different song you sing when I come to you in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Adieu, vile follower of the dark force."
With that sinister threat, Apollyon spread his tattered dragon's wings and flapped an erratic flight down to the Valley of the Shadow of Death where he might nurse his wounds. Therefore, for a season, Christian saw him no more.

 End of Sample

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