I remember the night you revealed it to me in a dream. A young girl full of sorrow, there I lay on my bed, crying out to you like I so often did then. As I surrendered myself to you completely that night, a deep sleep came upon me. That’s when you came to me in my dreams, sweet Lord.
You were in my dreams again last night. I’m not even surprised anymore. It’s become a familiar dream now. Since it happens so often. I sometimes wonder are my dreams just a fiction of my imagination, or does it all mean something deeper. I struggle on the edge of a fine line between wanting to believe all that is meant, yet restraining myself just enough so I don’t fall over the cliff, and go plunging into a darkness unknown to me. But when I close my eyes, and see you as real as love itself, it all feels so right.
Last night I was fighting demons in my dreams. I don’t mean that metaphorically. I’m speaking physical fighting, knife throwing, killing of demons. There was a group of God’s angels guarding a city, and real demons were trying to get in to destroy the people. I can recall the darkness I was in, and the feeling I felt when a demon appeared. Yet I was not afraid. It was like I had the armour of God’s protection around me, as I battled each one. I had the confidence that I would prevail and they would not. Still, the fighting was intense. I’d wrestle with them, and I’d kill them just as violently as they wanted to kill me. Continue reading