Two Dreams

I had a hard time deciding where I would share this.  It has kept my head pondering for the last several days.  If you know me--or have followed me on this blog-or our mission blog--you know that I journal.  I rarely miss a day.  It's a prayer journal.  I write prayers, I dialogue with Jesus--and sometimes--I write out when I feel like God has given me a dream--or a message in a dream.

On the few times that I have had a dream that felt significant--like a message--I wrote it out in clear details.  I've had two very significant dreams in the past 7 days.  I want to go ahead and share both of them.  It happened two days apart.  They both happened in the early morning- I woke suddenly from the first one at 3:24 AM.  I got up--this needed pen to paper immediately before I forgot.

Background for those who don't know me:  I work at a funeral home owned by some dear friends.  And while I was surprised that God planted me here fresh off the mission field--still dealing with depression--I have been very blessed to be able to minister and love on families who are facing their hardest days.  I have learned a lot--and I've grown a lot. (At 61, who knew you still grew?!)

Some days I'm emotionally drained.  The day that led up to the dream was a fairly normal work day.  Nothing really out of the ordinary to speak of.

The First Dream:

The phone rang.  I answered it and immediately knew something was very wrong.  One of my co-workers was standing in the office and heard my side of the conversation.  The voice on the other end was low, slow, and I could tell too physically spent to even speak:  "Help!"  This came as a pained groan.  More that a whisper but not in a regular talking voice.  "Help!"  Again.  But weaker than the first time.  

I looked at my co-worker and said very loud, "Call 911!"  He did immediately.  I gave him the phone number that showed up on the caller ID and the "help" came one last time--so soft I could hardly hear it.  It was weak.  I was in a state of panic.  Who calls the funeral home asking for help?  We are the last ones that get the call and it's always from someone other than the person needing our help.

Silence.  "Hello?  Are you there?  Are you still there?  Hello???"  The panic in my voice matched the heat rising as my blood pressure shot up.  Nothing.  No response.

I stayed on the line--hoping for strength to return to the voice...but then--another voice.  Raspy and wicked sounding.  Harsh, sickening and almost metallic --"It's too late!  I've got him!  You're too late!!"  Followed by wicked laughter.  Very wicked laughter.  I could almost see demonic dancing taking place on the other end of the line and could almost smell the sulphuric smoke that had to be evident on the scene.  

I could hear the officers on the scene--and then everything changed.  Back at the funeral home, two of the men were in the prep room (embalming room) and I had walked in there to tell one of them something.  As I opened the door and saw the embalmer poised over the body with his instrument--I hollered loud enough to scare them both into stillness.  "Stop!  Back away! Don't touch that body!"

I could see a thick green fog rising and swirling just over the corpse.  I could tell neither one of them could see what I was seeing.  The embalmer backed up with a look of surprise and trepidation on his face.  I walked forward and began rebuking Satan--the mist swirled.  The two men in the room came to one corner of the room to see if they could see what I was seeing.  They could see it.  I stood in front of them--with my arms outstretched as you do when you hit the breaks and have a passenger in the car with you--and I continued praying and rebuking Satan--then I began praying in the spirit along with English.  

I woke up--and it seemed every nerve in my body was alert.  I lay only briefly and took stock of where I was.  I rolled over and looked at the clock-- 3:24 AM.  I got up.  Listen--this is not up for theological discussion.  I have never cast a demon out.  I've been in one church service in my life in the early 80's where that happened and I was not front and center--I was praying from "afar".   This is not something I think about doing.  Just no.

Now, I can hear some of you--"You watched too many movies."  I can promise you and my family will testify--I don't watch anything scary.  I don't like them at all.  I hadn't eaten any weird pizza or anything of the sort.

I began to pray when I got to the living room and closed the door--secluding myself off with the Lord.  We recognize that there is warfare going on in the spiritual realm.  Look at what the enemy is trying to do with our children.   Our teenagers.  All of us!  That morning--I prayed for all believers, all over the world.  I prayed that God would open our eyes as never before --I prayed that He would wake up the sleepers and alert the drowsy.  It's time.  

SECOND DREAM:

The second dream happened two days later, February 25.  After the dream--I went again to the living room--very emotional--closed the door to not be heard as I cried out to God with the impact this one made on my heart.

I dreamed I was sitting at a table with my mother and my sister, Aimee.  We were what I sensed was a church, but an older church, judging by the walls.  It reminded me of a class room at our home church before any additions or renovations had ever taken place more than 30 years ago.  As we were sitting there--I could see in my periphery that other people were with us, although, I saw no one in particular, I could hear them--there was a hushed sweet reverence in the room.  I sensed that very strongly.  I realized soon what we were doing there.  We were there to pray for people as they came in.  

It was my mother's turn to pray for the next individual.  It was a man with a gray sweater on.  He was medium height--and kind of barrel-chested, stocky build.  He had on wire rim glasses, had graying hair and at first glance, he reminded me of my Grandbuddy (stepdad) at about 45-50 years of age.  On slower examination, I realized it wasn't him.  Mother's face, when I glanced over to remind her it was her turn, looked ashen.  She simply said, "I can't".  

Realizing it was because of who he reminded her of, and Grandbuddy is currently in the nursing home for therapy--I volunteered to go pray.  What struck me later after I woke up is that there were no men to pray with this man.  There were others there praying--but I didn't see any men.

As I approached him-I could see he was anxious.  He had a fearful look on his face and I asked him his name.  "Kevin", he said.  As I laid my hand on his head right where he stood, I began to just pray what I heard in my heart.  

"Father, in the name of Jesus, I rebuke the spirit of distraction--I rebuke the spirit of self-focus and self-absorption."

At that moment I was fully awake--praying still, but awake.  I've never heard of this man--nor seen him.  I know a couple of Kevin's but this guy wasn't either one of them.

As I laid there--putting things into perspective--these next thoughts came to my mind:  

We need to pray.  We need to march into March --to be marching into battle, as if our lives depended on it.  

If we want revival among us-that we can experience for ourselves instead of just reading about someone else's encounter with God, we need to march after it with all the fervency and passion as if we were seeking God for our most wayward and dearest loved one.

The Holy Spirit reminded me of this:  We have the opportunity to have an audience with the King of Kings!  The very Creator of the universe!  

How would we prepare if that was something we did in the literal physical section of time?  If we had a meeting with our boss at 8:00 AM, would we haphazardly prepare?  Or, would we be organized in what we needed to discuss?  

I felt so convicted!  I feel like I have approached my prayer time, often, with a lazy spirit--distracted and self-focused.  God is calling us to see more and do more through our prayers.

This is more than a dream.  This is a wake up call.  We are running out of time.  And this evening, I pray and bind the spirit of self-focus and self absorption.  I bind the spirit of complacency and distraction .  I bind the spirit of slothful living and attitude.  I call forth and release an attitude of worship of God as never before.  I call forth and release a spirit of gratitude and peace, and I ask for a spirit of focus on God and the things of God and I permanently bind the spirit of self-pity in all believers.  

I have been praying for our grandchildren--asking God to build a hedge around them--the Holy Spirit reminded me last week--our prayers ARE the hedge.

I enjoy sleeping as much as the next person--but sleeping on the job will get you fired.  What will sleeping on your prayer watch get you?....

I've done much praying and repenting--I believe God is calling us up.  After pastor LaVon's message on Sunday--I felt this confirmed-- as believers we need to DO what we KNOW to do.  While we can still do it.  Work while it is yet day... 

We must do the works of Him who sent Me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work. John 9:4 HCSB

I could go a lot longer and deeper in this discussion, as my sister and mother did on Saturday when I shared all of this with them...but I think you get the picture.  

There's something we can all do...

© Angie Knight God has given each of you a gift from His great variety of spiritual gifts. Use them well to serve one another. 1 Peter 4:10 NLT