I was hearing voices, not happy, reassuring voices, these voices were low and demonic. In my mind’s eye, I was being visually attacked by creatures-creatures from the “underworld. (Satan likes to come after us when we’re at our lowest point. (Satan Tempts Jesus) Satan knows that the only way to possibly influence us is when we are laid wide open. Our minds are most easily influenced in this state.)
In fear, my soul cried out to my Savior. With the assurance that I am a child of God, I knew that He would protect me. Lying in my bed, I began mentally reciting scriptures from memory, singing praises to God, and denouncing Satan. Shouting at him in my mind, telling him, “You have no power over me! I belong to God, and he will protect me!”
Gradually the creatures began to disappear, replaced by blooming flowers. One of Jesus’s names is “the Rose of Sharon.” I believe the flowers were to remind me that He was with me. As a sense of peace enveloped me, I eventually relaxed and went to sleep.
This is an experience I pray I never have to go through again. But I am grateful for the result of the strengthening of my faith, and the increased knowledge of God’s ever presence in my life.
I have added a video to youtube. The video is my poem Renewalthat I had published on Ruthie’s Writing. I used pictures on the Pacific Ocean as background. There isn’t any sound because I wasn’t sure how to add it. Maybe the next video will have music ☺
I love this time of the year: the colorful lights, joyful sounds of caroling, and happy laughter of children. I look forward to the birth of our Savior.
Unfortunately, mixed with the joy is a sadness.The tragedy in Connecticut lingers in our hearts and minds, casting a shadow over the season.
Twenty children, eagerly awaiting Christmas, taken so suddenly and unnecessarily. My heart cries for all of us, for we are all affected in one way or another. My solace is the thought that these young ones are in Heaven, celebrating with Jesus this year.
I pray you will allow this thought and the Joy of Christmas lighten the darkness and bring you a measure of peace.
“Oh when the Saints go marching in, oh when the Saints go marching in…”
The words echoed in the dark room as a frightened girl cowered under the blankets, her eyes pinched tightly against the flashes of lightning, She blared out the song trying to drown out the thunderstorm raging outside her window, sleep impossible until the storm abated. Continue reading →