Storm Evacuations

Another dream…
This time, I’m the mom of a family, in a city
In a foreign country (? not the US,)
And we were in the process of moving there.
We had found an apartment, up in a high-rise,
Like most of the people there, in this country.

As we were moving in, a big storm hit,
And the government told everyone
To immediately evacuate all high-rise buildings,
And go to their assigned shelter.

As we were so new, the government
Had not yet assigned us a place.
But the authorities still came and evicted us
And told us to go to the bottom of the building,
And to seek shelter there for the time being.

We had to leave everything,
Taking only what we could grab.
As we left the apartment. I was so upset by it all,
That I could not remember what we should take with us.
So, we left all our stuff there, thinking it would blow over soon.

At the bottom of the building, there were several other people there,
Who also did not have a place assigned.
I could see that there was indeed
A large storm around us.

As I looked out the window, I could see a small tornado
Beginning to form.
I told those around me, and we all watched it
As it grew and moved towards us.
But as it came near, it suddenly petered out,
And then the sky started to clear out.

“Well,” I said to our family,
“Time to go back to our rooms,”
But those around us
Told us that no one could return
To their apartment yet,
As this was only the beginning.
“The weather grows in form and intensity,
And always lasts about two or three days.
They will not let anyone back in
Until they say the storm has passed.”

At that point I panicked, stating that we were new there,
And did not know that we had to bring supplies
To wait out such a big three day long storm.
One there, suggested to me, that if I was not afraid to go back up,
MAYBE they would take pity on me, and allow me to go back to our place
To get a few supplies.

So I turned and ran back up, until I reached the floor
Where our apartment was.
There I could see that it had all changed there.
The government had set up an emergency desk there,
So they could process the people and all their stuff better.
Everyone’s apartment door was wide open,
And officers were searching through
All the rooms and all the stuff in them.
When they seen me running towards them,
they stopped me, right before the end of the hall
where our place was, and where the desk was,
And so I begged the woman behind the desk to have mercy on me,
Only this once, as we were new to this place,
and to please allow me to go back
Into our place, to get our needed medicines.

She squinted at me and starred at me
for a long moment, before saying yes.

I thanked her profusely,
And then went into our area,
And began searching for our medicines.

It was much harder than I had thought,
As the government (or someone,)
Had begun to rifle though all our belongings.
Nothing was where it had been,
So my medicines were no longer
Where I had put them last.

The lady who had said yes to me,
Then came over to keep an eye on me,
Apparently wanting to give her o.k.
To whatever I took.

I had finally found my pill box,
And I was about to go,
When I opened it up
And found that my medicine
Was not in there any longer.
Some was, but much was not.
When I showed her this,
She told me that I could not have
ANY of the medicine in it,
As it obviously was not mine.

I told her that it was o.k.,
And that I had the bottles
With some extra medicine in them,
With the actual prescription label
Still on them, over there, in my suitcase,
Which was still in line, waiting to be searched.
I then asked her if this would help
Identify the needed medicine as mine.

As she nodded yes,
Her eyebrows rose in surprise,
So I told her that as we were from America,
we were in the habit
Of always carrying the bottles with us,
Just in case we were ever pulled over
By the police and searched.

She seemed impressed and pleased with this.

I quickly went over to my suitcase,
And grabbed the necessary medicines.
The lady checked to make sure they were mine,
And then told me to grab a backpack (of mine,)
Put the medicines in it, and be sure
To put some female underwear in it,
As well as a change of clothes for us.

When I had finished doing this,
She told me that I now had all I would need
To get through the storm, for all the females
In my family.

“What about the males?” I asked her.
“There are three in my family.”

She nodded, and handed me
Another back pack, and told me
To fill it up with my male’s stuff;
Many underwear, and a change of clothes.
I then told her, that I had a son
Who was also on medicine,
And I asked her, if I could get
His prescription bottles also
From the suitcase. Without pause,
She nodded her approval,
And I did as I had asked.
After she checked the prescription labels,
She then told me to take
Only enough food and drink
To fill up the rest of the space
In the two back packs.

As she watched me,
I grabbed some boxes of crackers,
And pushed them into one of the bags,
And then filled up the other bag
With bottles of water.
I made sure, that I did not overstuff
Either of the bags, and that I filled them up
As fast as I could.

As she watched me,
I could tell that I confused her,
For she had expected an American
To put up a great big fuss,
At seeing them search through
Our apartment, and take some of our stuff.
And she figured I’d really get upset,
When she told me I could only have
Some underwear, one change of clothes,
And such limited food and drink for my family.

I think she came to the conclusion,
That I was a little crazy,
But would never the less, make a good and acceptable citizen
Of their country. I also knew, that she would log this info
Into their government computers,
Thereby making our way smoother
Into this new society and country.

“You realize,” she said to me,
“that this is the only time,
That I will allow you to come back
For your supplies like this!”

I nodded in understanding,
And reassured her
 That another time
Would not be needed.

Once done with all this packing,
I turned to her and bowed low before her,
Thanking her yet again
for her mercy and generosity.

This amused her and pleased her,
And so she told the security guard
That was waiting to escort me out,
“She’s o.k.; you can let her go
Back down to her family by herself.”

And so it was, that I was able
To go back downstairs, in freedom.

As I walked back, I could see
That there were several other groups there
From the government, All doing the same thing
To the other floors of the building.
But they did not bother me,
For I did not try to go down their hallways,
But kept to the main halls and stairways.

As I was almost down to the bottom,
I came across several young men,
No more than teens, hanging out together.
At first, I felt a pang of fear,
But then I sensed that they were the sons
Of those who worked the floors above,
And were not interested
In taking my backpacks.

As I passed them,
I caught the eye of one of them,
And realized that it was the same boy
Who had been eyeing up one of my daughters
Appreciatively, just the day before.
So I took a risk, and went up to him,
And asked him if he knew
Of a place within the city,
One nearest to where we were,
That had a basement, room, or tunnel.

I could tell that he recognized me,
And wanted to make a good impression on me,
So he could maybe ask my daughter out later.
So he frowned for a moment as if in thought,
And then said “you mean the underground?”

I smiled and said yes,
that’s the word I was looking for!

He said “sure;” gave me the building’s number,
And then told me the street. “St. Augustine’s.”
(At least I think it was the street;
It may have been a different form of ID.)

I asked him then, if he had a pen,
So I could write the address down
On my hand. At this point,
All the other boys around him,
Had grown silent, and were listening
To the exchange.
When the boy seen that the pen
Was not showing up on my hand,
He got out a piece of paper from his pocket
And let me write it down on that.
I exchanged some bantering with them,
Making the boy who helped me look good
In front of all his friends,
Thanked the boy with a warm smile,
And then left the building.

I treasured that piece of paper,
Hiding it well upon my person,
For I knew that it would be
Where we would one day take shelter
From a BIG destructive storm,
And survive.

I returned to my family,
And we sought out shelter there,
As best we could.
The outdoor fireplaces,
(There were two there,)
Had been stuffed with garbage,
But we figured that if the storm
Got real severe,
That is where we would try to shelter.
But at that thought,
I felt my God tell me,
That we would not need to do that,
As we would be fine where we were.
We survived the rest of the three day storm,
(The f5 tornado from the storm
Had taken out a different high-rise,
A few miles from ours,)
And settled in to our new apartment
And our new life in this new country.
And every so often, without warning,
The government would issue out
A storm evacuation, and we would go
To where the government had decreed
We were to go for shelter.
Most of the places, that people sheltered in,
(including the one assigned to our family,)
Reminded me of concentration camps,
With their barbed-wire fences pointing inwards,
portable toilets, and lack of any real amenities.
But we became well-liked at these encampments,
For we kept the peoples spirits up,
By reassuring them that we would all be o.k.,
And by helping to pass the time
By initiating fun little games or conversations
That took the peoples mind
off the approaching storm.

Till one day, the Lord told us
To not take our shelter with them
Like we usually did.
As the government simply assumed
That everyone would go to their shelter,
(to not do so, was thought to be crazy,
For it left you out in the danger,)
And did not bother to check,
And make sure that everyone was there,
It was easy for us,
To go to the underground by St. Augustine,
And seek our shelter there instead,
As our God, Jesus, told us to. 

Back at the encampment,
Once the gates there had been locked,
The people there suddenly missed us,
And wondered where we were.
There were a few, that hoped we would be safe,
But most of them could care less
About anyone but themselves.

Our hearts were full of grief,
For we knew that this time,
It would be THEIR shelter
That got destroyed by the coming storm,
And that there was nothing we could do,
To help them.

Sure enough,
The incoming storm,
Wiped out not only the shelter,
With all the people in it,
But also the high-rise building
That our apartment was in.

When the storm was over,
Any survivors
(if there ever were any, which was very rare,)
Could then go and search through
A holding building,
Where they put all the things
That had survived the last storm,
To see if any of it belonged to you.
When we went there,
The people there had been told
That there were no survivors,
So they acted quite put out,
(angry? Resentful?,)
At having to suddenly deal
with a pair of survivors.

They reluctantly let us search
Through all the stuff,
But only for a short time.
Most all of it, was ruined by water,
Or stained with mud.
Only small articles of little worth remained.
I tried to find my special salt
In it’s special salt shaker,
But we soon found
That all the salt that remained
Had been soaked by the rains,
And was worthless.

They then wanted to bring us in,
Right then and there,
(as I guessed they usually did,)
To the office of the government,
But they had special plans for that night,
And didn’t want to be late.
So we told them not to worry;
We knew how to get there,
And that we’d go there as soon as possible,
For we had no where else to go.

They seemed satisfied with this,
And so let us go on our way without them.

We did not go to the government,
For that was not what The Lord had told us to do. Instead,
He let us know that we still had more work to do for Him.

When we arrived at the shelter He had led us to,
(a shelter amongst other Christians,)
We were asked by them, how we knew what to do,
To survive.

We then told them, about the other dream
Someone else had, that we had come across,
Explaining how they had survived a similar storm,
And how they followed The Living God.

This was how we knew
What we had to do.
Then I woke up.


Three Idol-Encased Demons

When my mother-in-law passed away, some of her old stuff was shipped out to us in case we might want it. In this box, were some statues and trinkets that she had purchased as souvenirs from her travels. One of them, was an all-white porcelain statue of a Chinese geisha girl, holding out her arms and hands in a peculiar way. One of the hands looked like it may have at one time been broken off and temporarily repaired, so I was wondering if I should apply a permanent fix to it, or if it was even worth saving at all.

As I was holding it, I began to feel vaguely uncomfortable with it, and wondered if it was spiritually o.k. or not to keep. So I asked my kids for a second opinion. 

One shrugged and said they had sensed something evil about it at first, but as that feeling quickly went away, they couldn’t be real sure. So they went to see if there was more information on it over the internet.

My oldest son however, wanted it out of the house immediately. He said he could hear foreign voices coming from the statue, singing and chanting in tongues, and he knew that they were demons. As the minutes went by, he became more and more distressed over it, because their voices were getting louder and louder, and more threatening.

So I decided to bless it with our blessed olive oil and claim it in the name of Jesus. As soon as the blessing oil touched the statue, my oldest said the demons were shrieking and howling in pain and anger, and were coming out of the statue. But they soon went back to their odd chanting and singing, this time even louder than before. My internet searcher then reports back to me, telling me that this statue is an actual demon goddess that people in China pray to, in their homes. My oldest interrupts to say that he felt the Holy Spirit telling him that we NEED to get rid of the statue, NOW.

At that point, one of the demons physically attacked my son. It threw him down onto the stairs, (as he tried to run away,) and then wrapped its tendrils around his throat and tried to choke him, while another smaller one sat on his chest to try and silence him by suffocating him. My kids could only stare at the demons, unable to move or speak, frozen in fear and terror, as they watched them viciously attack their older brother. (This was odd behavior for some of them; normally they don’t let them spook them, they simply cast them out in the name of Jesus.) It sounded horrible; I could hear my son’s screams of sheer terror; he kept repeating over and over: “NO! DON’T LET IT TAKE ME! GET IT OFF OF ME! MOM!! HELP ME!” And then a moment later, ”PLEASE! GET RID OF THE STATUE!!! NOW!!!!”, as he tried to claw away at his own neck the suffocating strangle hold of the demon’s grip. I looked into my son’s eyes, and could see the absolute panic and terror that he was feeling reflecting out from them. But I myself could not see any demon at all; all I could see were strange markings of something around his neck, and his face grow red and bulge as he kept struggling and gasping to pull in a breath of air.

At first I looked for the obvious signs of a ‘too-tight’ shirt collar, or anything else that might have caused such a reaction, and a part of me couldn’t help but wonder if my son was just faking it to get attention. Till I looked up and seen all the eyes of my children starring at the same demons that was on top of him in horror. They were all starring at the demons, not at my son. Then I knew it was indeed real.

I cried out for my husband, (who had heard all the commotion and had been wondering what was going on, but had remained downstairs working on his computer,) and asked him to quickly take the statue and “get it out of this house!”

So he came up and took the statue outside. Meanwhile I went and grabbed my book entitled “Prayers that rout demons”, (scriptures and prayers based on them that are indexed for immediate battle-ready use,) and started claiming them out loud, and casting out in Jesus name whatever was attacking my son. I had to shout them out, and say them with great energy. I could then slightly sense the demon sneer at me, as it seemingly loosened its grip on my son and disappeared.

So I asked the kids if they still felt the demons, and one told me that they could still hear them, and another told me they could see the thin black ropes, coming from the outside, still trying to attack us.

I asked the child that seen the thin black ropes where they were coming from, and was pointed towards the window, on the left side. We go outside, following the trails of black rope, not knowing where their father had put the statue, (he was back downstairs working again,) and were led directly to the statue, right where the lines were seen to be coming from. 

I took the statue, and along with my kids, went down to the fire pit. We built up a fire, lit it, and when we thought it was going strong enough, we put the statue in it.

Within the next minute or so, the fire went out.

So we rebuilt the fire, this time making it bigger and stronger, right on top of the statue. It was not easy. This was a fire that for some reason did not want to burn. But I asked the Lord to please help us with the fire, so it got going pretty good. Ten to fifteen minutes later, the fire around the statue had dissipated, leaving the rest of the fire around it still burning. We kicked the rest of the fire out, and I went to go pick up the statue with a stick, figuring it was now way too hot to hold. But the Holy Spirit told me to go ahead and pick it up with my bare hands.

It was icy cold. Not a single blemish or smear of soot had disfigured it.

My eldest son cried out to me again, asking me to smash it, but I was already one step ahead of him. I was trying to find a brick to smash it with, but most near me were still way too hot from the fire to use. (I had just burned my fingers on one, finding that out the hard way.) So a brick from the other side of the fire pit was found, and with great force, I smashed the delicate porcelain with one square blow. I must admit, at this point I half expected it to be resistant to being smashed as well, so I think I may have used a bit too much force, for the bricks above it and underneath it ended up being cracked and broken as well. I was going to keep breaking it up into dust, but the kids said it was no longer necessary, as the black trails had now dissipated in the air like smoke does on a breezy day.

I thought this had meant that all the demons were now gone, but I was wrong. There was one still left that had now been let loose without a safe home to run back to. So it ran back into ours, and tried to attack one of my other kids and my husband while they were in front of their computers. This was the big main ring leader of the three idol-encased demons. (Apparently the other two had already been cast out and removed, when they attacked my oldest son on the stairway.) We quickly closed the computer screens and shut down the computers, as we had already experienced demons attacking us through such visual windows before. But no matter how much of my usual casting-out scriptures I recited, it still refused to come out. So I gave my oldest son the “Prayers that rout demons” book, grabbed the bible in my bedroom, (still open to a good Psalms demon-fighting piece of scripture – maybe even Psalm 91,) and told one of my other kids to get theirs. Then we each went onto one floor of the house, and began reciting the scriptures out loud in a bold voice, and then casting it out in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

I sensed it try to attack me emotionally, i.e.: you’ll never get me to go; this is all just in your imagination; and it even tried to rush me with its fear and dizziness, in an effort to scare me off or distract me from my purpose. I then told it as firm as I still could, that I would simply keep on reading from the Bible, till it left.

I think that thought must have scared it off, because the Angel of the Lord was seen soon after by one of the other kids, removing the stronghold demon from this dimension. Finally we were left in peace once more.

*  *  *  *

This Is Satan Attacking Us!

My husband and I
Knew that we could delay no longer,
Discussing and deciding
Upon an important issue affecting us.

(What the issue was, is not important.
The journey, and the vision thereof is.)

So we both came into our bedroom
And shut the door behind us,
So we could discuss the matter privately.

I laid down in our bed,
And he sat down in his chair.

Moments of silence enveloped us,
As we tried to figure out what to say.

It was then that I seen,
a darker shadow
form behind my husband,
and like an ugly gargoyle,
with a beak or a stinger of some kind upon its face,
it arose and perched on the back upper corner
of my husbands chair.

I heard just a hint of speech,
Like a whisper,
As I watched it bend its stinger forward
And say something into my husbands left ear.

The words that came then,
From out of my husbands mouth,
(spoken to me, on the controversial topic,)
Were attacking, condemning, accusing, bitter,
And full of scorn for me and my views.

I lay there on our bed,
Waiting for the usual response to such accusations,
(anger, hurt, despair, self-righteousness, shock, to name but a few,)
But they weren’t there.
It was as if my emotions
At least for that moment,
Were somehow separate from me.

Suddenly, right at the foot of our bed,
I caught a movement of something darker than the night.
It moved towards me,
And I watched its bulbous egg-shaped head
Bounce up and down
As its body followed suit.

It looked like a balrog,
One of ‘Durin’s Bane’ fame,
But darker and smaller,
Though still much taller than I,
For its head would brush into
our bedroom ceiling above it,
when it moved.
It pulled out something from its hands,
A long tube or sword of some kind,
I heard a soft ‘pop’ and then a hissing sound,
As if a blowtorch had just been lit,
And watched as the demon
Brought it up to its face,
And breathed over it.

At this,
A wave of scourging fire
Lashed out and flared over me,
Its flames crackling and glowing golden red
then almost instantly turning
into a crisp blanket of black coals,
which still smoldered and crackled like lava.

I expected to feel the pain of fire hit my body somehow,
But I did not.

I was beginning to feel relieved,
Thinking the demon had failed in its task,
(for I felt no burning sensation anywhere on my skin,)
Until the demon let out another breath of fire over me,
Same as the first,
And as it rolled over me,
I felt a great filling up within me,

NOW I felt something!

The words that my husband had just spoken to me moments before
Came back up to play over and over again in my mind,
And the burning anger roiling up
from somewhere deep within me
suddenly DEMANDED to be released.

I KNEW I should not speak,
I KNEW it would only serve satan,

Like a pressure cooker about to blow,
My mouth opened
And the words that came out
Were attacking and self-righteous,
Coming to my defense over the issue,
With all that intense anger propelling it forward.

After the initial release of anger,
I had hoped that the pressure had lessened,
But it had not.

I looked over towards my husband,
Seen the other demon whisper again in his ear,
Before hearing more arguing words
Coming from his lips.

I knew then, without a doubt,
That the words he was speaking were not his own,
But was being put into his mind by the demon,
And simply parroted out by him
In an effort to attack (and hurt) me.

I still could not stop myself from responding to the stab!
The demons at this point,
Must have figured that their work for the most part was done,
For I seen that they now sat back and watched us argue with each other,
With evil laughter and sneers settling upon their faces.

More hurtful words still bubbled out from me,
Until I somehow managed to pause,
(to this day, I still do not know HOW,)

My husband continued on in his argument,
So I interrupted him, saying “we shouldn’t talk right now;

My husband flung a few more hurtful words at me,
Before he got up and left the room.

After he exited, I had to physically hold my mouth shut with my hands,
Just to keep myself from calling him back in so we could argue some more!

As I heard him go outside on our porch,
I then let go of my jaw
And managed to get out just one word of my own:


At that, the haze of heated anger
Seemed to release me for a moment,
And I was able to think more clearly.

I knew what I had to do.

I had to cast out these demons
From the BOTH of us,
Regardless of who’s right or wrong!

This was HARD to do,
For that burning anger was still well lit within me!
All I could get out,
Was the scriptures that usually came to mind:

“I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord,
Plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
To give you a hope and a future!

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
And lean not onto your own understanding
In all your ways acknowledge Him
And He will direct your paths…”

The grip of anger had lessened more from me,
So I now turned to address the demons directly.
(At this point, I could no longer see them,
But I knew they were still there.)

“Demons of anger, self-righteousness,
Condemnation, bitterness, and despair,
And any other demons troubling me or my husband,

I sensed then,
That they had been removed,
For the anger that had been infused in me
Was now slowly draining away.

But the painful words
That my husband had said to me
Still lingered in my mind.

So I got down on my prayer stool,
And cried out to Jesus to take away
All their poison away from both my husband and I.

Then I asked Him, to send His Holy angels down from heaven,
To keep watch over us and protect us from satan’s attacks,
And to fight our battles in the unseen world.

At this,
Peace began to enter into me,
And even my body relaxed in response.

My husband then came back in to our bedroom,
And when I seen the sad look on his face,
I got up and went into his arms and we embraced each other.

After saying our sorry’s to each other,
And together asking our Lord in prayer
to be with us and guide us
It took about ten to fifteen minutes
To work through the actual problem.      


*  *  *  *

“Nevertheless, though we walk in the flesh, yet we do not war after the flesh. (For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God, to cast down holds.) Casting down the imaginations, and every high thing that is exalted against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obediance of Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:3-5, 1599 Geneva Bible)