The Praises Of One Little Believer

A dream…

I found that I had a few hours to spend by myself,
So I wandered down to the ocean,
And found an inlet opening,
That was bound on either side by huge cliffs.

I was relieved and excited to find that I could see
No other person on the beach.
There were huge boulders sticking out of the sand,
That were taller than me, so I listened for the sound of another person beyond them, but could hear nothing.

I was alone.

I gave a great exchange of breath in relief,
Enjoying the salty tang of the air in my lungs.
I looked out before me,
And seen the vast view of water, sand, space, and sky.

I knew that the Lord was with me,
So I began to talk to Him, right out loud, as if He was right there beside me, just listening to me.

I told Him how thankful I was to Him,
For bringing me here to this place, and for loving me the way He does, despite my faults and sins. I thanked Him for my children, my husband, and the faith they hold in Him. I thanked Him for the shelter we have, and for the little jobs that were coming in, that was helping us to stay afloat. (My husband had been out of a steady job for the past year and a half or more, having been laid off at the end of his contract. But the Lord provides enough work to still help pay the bills.) I thanked Him for many things. For all that I had, and for all that I did not have. Mostly, I thanked Him for loving me anyways, and for talking to me.

Next, I began to share with him, my fears and concerns, asking Him if we should still remain where we’re living, or if we should move to wherever my husband might find his next work contract. But the Lord reminded me, that He had provided for us, and will still provide for us, and to not go chasing after the job, but to keep our eyes focused on Him. When the time came to move, He would let us know.

This reminded me, of the great earthquake, fire, tsunami, and flood, that has been prophesized by others to come upon the West coast. Even my own children have had dreams of this happening.

I looked out upon the now calm waters of the ocean,
And realized that one day this water would rise far above my head, and engulf the people of the bay area.

For a moment, fear hovered near by at such a thought,
But I realized that I was safe at this time, and that it would not happen while I was on the beach. So fear left me. But in its place, came a great sorrow, that filled me up, as I thought of those who would die, without ever knowing my God as their very best friend.

So my knees fell into the sand and dirt, and I began to pray in earnest to save the people of the bay area. I prayed that they would give up their god of money, stuff, power, and positions, and work instead to follow Him. I began to cry, tears overflowing my eyes so that I could hardly see. What will these people do, Lord, when they see the high waters come for them? Would they repent even then?
I prayed for them a little while longer, and then moved on to other more personal topics.

I then asked the Lord, to please continue to bless our family, and to keep holding us in His hands. I thought yet again, of all that He had done for us, and the joy that filled me, overflowed. I found myself wanting to break into song.

So I stood there, as the sun was just beginning to set,
And sang songs of praise to my God.
The songs caused me to break down in tears again at one point, crying tears of thanks and joy. But I would not stop.
I got back up to my feet, and began to walk around, as my voice rang out clear and true, echoing off the cliffs around me, and flowing out into the ocean.

I even sang songs that cast out satan,
That bound all the works of the devil,
And ended in giving all glory to Jesus.

Suddenly, from out of the corner of my eye,
I seen a flash of red movement, coming from up the beach a ways, behind me.

I stopped singing, realizing I was no longer alone. For a moment, I felt embarrassed, but figured it was a public place, and I knew that I had an o.k. voice, so at least listening to me sing would not have given them an earache.

I expected some kind of comment from the person,
(I really had been singing loudly, and they were not too far away,) but the person remained silent.

The person came closer to me, still managing to keep a good clear distance from me, and tried to leave the beach area,
By walking past me from behind, keeping as close to the cliff as they possibly could.

I could see now, that the person was wearing a full cape, that covered their head and body in the color of red blood.

Then another came from behind him, following the same path as the first. Their robes were trimmed in some kind of metallic braid, and the cape looked to be made of fine velvet. They refused to look at me, and kept their head averted from my direction, so I could not see their faces. They kept their hands in their bell shaped sleeves, like the monks of old would do, and slowly but methodically walked forward and up the inlet behind me without saying a word.

A third just like them followed their path, and then I realized, that more were coming from behind them. I began to count them as they passed me, one by one.

I heard a sound from the other side of the inlet, and turned to see more of the same kind of people, walking out of the inlet and off the beach. They were all dressed in the same blood red hooded velvet cloaks. They were too far away for me to see any of their faces, and they kept their faces downcast and averted like the others, so I could not tell if they were even male or female.

I then realized with a start, that these were practicing satanists of a higher order, and that I must have interrupted their time of spell casting and worshiping satan along the public beach.

One of them broke apart from their exit path, and came towards me, while the others continued to exit the area behind him, and behind me.

I could tell by the way this person walked, that it was a man and that he was the leader of this group.

His cloak parted as he walked towards me, revealing clothes that were black in color, with the imprint of a bleached white skeleton upon them. The face was also painted all black, with the skeleton form painted over his face in stark white. He was speaking something under his breath, but I could not hear it.

As he came towards me, I began to feel dizzy, so I cast out the demon of dizziness from me in Jesus name.

The man paused there at the opening, and raised his hand towards me like a stop sign.

I could see his hand was all gloved in black, but had the imprint once again, of a white skeleton hand covering over it.

The dizziness increased, so I began to speak in tongues from under my breath, hoping that this would remove the dizziness.

It did.

The man was still holding up his hand,
And as the last of his people filed out from behind me and him, he turned slightly, still facing me, and began to also walk out of the inlet. He walked completely out of the inlet backwards, not willing to turn his back to me for even a moment.

I was astounded and shocked, as I realized the truth.

HE WAS AFRAID OF ME!

Me! Little miss nobody from nowhere!
They were afraid of me!

This coven of satanic witches,
Thirteen robed figures in all,
were afraid of me!

It felt as if my heart leapt with joy, as I seen the leader’s skeleton face finally disappear among the inlet’s crevice.

My God is so big, that just the praises of one little believer has the power to chase away a coven of satanic witches!

I gave thanks to the Lord, for using me to disarm this coven. Then I began to sing again, a song of praise unto my Lord.

*

I awoke, with the song still ringing clearly in my mind.

It was “Hallelujah” from Handel’s Messiah.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76RrdwElnTU )

(Or with lyrics: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LyviyF-N23A&list=PLPKLQ8LMUJA8RWBV5Z1XORO-GFQCRMXMG )

*

“But thou art holy, O thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel.” (Psalm 22:3, KJV)

“…I will bless the LORD at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth” (Psalms 34:1).

“By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name” (Hebrews 13:15).

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” (Psalm 23, KJV)

“And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises unto God: and the prisoners heard them. And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened, and every one’s bands were loosed.”
(Acts 16:25-26, KJV)

“Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger.”
(Psalm 8:2, KJV)

(See also 2 Chronicles 20)

*

Update:
While working on this posting late one evening, I decided to do some quick research on the topic of satanists or witches using red robes during their ceremonies. (I didn’t think witches wore them too much, but I found that they could. Satanists sometimes do, but it is the illuminati that mostly uses the red robes that are trimmed in gold or silver embroidery. ) During this search, I was unaware that the pages I had opened on my computer, to do the research, were letting great satanic demons into our household. I sensed, during one of the page visits, to close the window, cast out those demons from that page, and to close the door that had opened by my visit, which I did. But apparently, I should have done this to every page I opened on that topic, for some of my children reported to me the following morning, that they had experienced demonic attacks (the attacks woke them up from a deep sleep,) and were being awakened almost every hour on the hour for the entire night by the satanic demons.

Some of these topics, are clearly dangerous to explore on the web!

* * * *

The Best Way To Raise A Child

Another dream…

This time I was a young woman, newly married.

My parents had raised me with simple Christian values, but they never felt the need for us to go to a church, read the bible, or pray. And that was fine with me as well, for I could see that we were doing o.k. on our own.

There were some things that I had strong beliefs in,
and one of them was how a child should be raised.

When I became a mother of a beautiful baby girl,
I spent as much time as I could with her,
Convinced that this was the way to bring them up successfully. My husband, her father, was away busy working, and did not have much time to spend with us. But every little lesson she learned, I was there beside her.

I realized, when she was around a year or so,
That I should not just give her everything she wanted,
For then she would end up a spoiled brat.

So there were times when I told her no, for example when she wanted to open a certain cupboard door, and it would be dangerous for her health and safety if she did so.

At first she cried, and showed her temper,
But soon moved on to other explorations.

She grew up to be a beautiful and caring girl, whom I loved greatly.

I had a second baby girl, when my first was almost eight, and I brought her up in the same manner as I did the first.
She also grew up to be a loving, caring, and giving girl. For this reason, she was one I was also very close to, all of my life.

I had another baby girl about five years after the last one, and began raising her up as I had the first two.
After she was a few years old, I realized, that for some reason, she was slightly less thankful for something that would be given to her, than her older sisters had been. But I brushed this off as simply being a quirk of her personality. (She was more reserved in other ways as well.) But as she reached the older teenage years, she became wild and rebellious, which would hurt me greatly.

One day, when she was almost eighteen, (and incredibly beautiful with her model slim body and gorgeous waist length blonde hair,) she stood there, in front of her bedroom doorway. I had just gotten done refinishing her bedroom to the way she had wanted it done. I asked her, how she liked it, hoping this would make her thankful, for not even her sisters had been given such a makeover for their rooms.

“Yes,” she said, “it’s great. Perfect.” But then she gave a long pause, as if she was still considering it. “Well, almost. There’s just one thing still wrong with it.”

“What is that?” I asked her, eager to make the change.

“You’re in it.”

With that, she pulled a lit cigarette from behind her back, pulled a big drag from it, and then blew the smoke right into my face.

I gasped in shock.

Pain was then my response, pain that went so very, very deep. It felt like my heart was actually breaking, and then shriveling up inside. I did not know how to cope with such pain. I was immobilized.

How could my daughter do this to me? She knew she was not to smoke at all in the house. She knew that I was very allergic to the cigarette smoke. My eyes and lungs were already beginning to swell up.

I told her that I was not leaving, for this was my house, and if she really wanted to get away from me, then she should be the one to leave. I also told her that if she left like this, I would never bother her or be a part of her life again. It would be as if she was dead to me.

I had hoped that she would back down at this, but she acted like she was quite happy with it.

She packed up her stuff, and left me with great excitement, and as I watched her leave, I noted that she didn’t even look back once.

It took some time for me to recover from what she had done. In essence, she really did become dead to me. I was also resolved to have it remain this way in the future, for I felt I could not survive another blow to my heart like that one.

Several years after my third child was born, I had another baby, also a girl, and knew it would be my last. (I was old at this time, and was quite surprised at the news, for I had thought that my child bearing years were over.) This baby was doted on by my first two girls, as well as me. But I made sure she was still brought up like the first two had been.

She turned out fine as well, thought she had a way of trying to make sure that everything and everyone in the family was doing o.k..

The third (dead) child would call and talk to her sisters, but ignore me. When my girls then went to tell me how she was doing, I told them that to me she no longer exists, and to keep their news about her to themselves, and to not talk to me about it. If they disobeyed me and talked about her, I would ignore what they said and leave the room.

I supported the first two girls in whatever they wanted to do with their lives, and when they decided to leave the nest, I gave them my full blessing, and still supported them in making their own nest, when they requested my help or my opinion. I remained close to my first two girls, and even to my youngest one.

At one point, my girls told me that their (dead) sister wanted to get in touch with me, for she was getting married and wanted me to go to her wedding. I told them no, and that I didn’t want to hear about it. I no longer knew this person they were talking about. She had been dead to me for so many years now, and would remain so.

My daughters tried to get me to change my mind, but I refused.

More years passed, and at one point, while my youngest daughter and I we were walking around in a big mall, I seen my two older daughters coming towards us, with their arms linked around their other sister, the one still dead to me.

My first thought was ‘So…she’s still alive then,’ but I quickly shifted my eyes to look away from her. Even if she had somehow survived all those years, she was still dead to me.

I could tell that my older girls had hoped for a reconciliation, and probably figured that if I could just actually see her, then I would relent. But they were wrong. I knew the statistics, I had heard the heart-wrenching accounts of the other mothers who had to deal with their wayward, wild children. These kids would say they were sorry, but still go back out and return to the crappy behavior and actions that they had before. Why would I think that my child would be any different from them? There was no way I would ever go through that kind of pain with that child again. The girl she had once been to me had died, and someone else now occupied her body.

A few years after that, my girls told me she was pregnant with her first child. “Mom, they pleaded with me, “Don’t you want to see your own grandchildren?”

“Sure,” I replied. “But that woman’s children would not be my grandchildren.”

They gave up trying to get me to go see them, when they realized I still wanted nothing to do with her.

When my own children had children of their own, I would be the doting grandmother, and shower their kids with attention and presents. Their own children were respective and loving towards me, so caring for them was easy to do and caused me no pain.

But I knew that no matter what, that other woman and her family, would remain dead to me till the day I died.

 

I then woke up from the dream, with tears on my face.

*

I wondered, as I lay there in bed, still feeling the inner pain, coldness, and fear that controlled this mother, just what was the best way to raise a child.

It was clear, that simply spending time with the child, and raising the child myself, (instead of handing them over to the overflowing nurseries and then into the public school systems,) would not prevent such wild behavior.

When I went to the Lord about it, He told me that spending the time with the child was still of primary importance, but without an intimate one-on-one relationship with HIM, there would still be problems of this kind. When a mother spends that much time with her child, the parent can sense RIGHT AWAY when something is wrong, and can then petition the problem to Me, and then cast the demon away from the child. (This is done through My Word and through prayer to Me.) But if the parent doesn’t even believe that evil spirits exist, and can try to attack their children, (or of course themselves,) then there is much less hope of fighting off satan’s attacks.

It made me realize, how important a Christian’s spiritual viewpoint is. If they do not believe in evil spirits being able to affect them, then it is almost impossible for them to see some of the person’s negative and hurtful behavior as being separate from the person themselves. One then tends to take it all personally, as an attack on them. And they also might not have much hope of real heart-felt change. What they don’t realize, is that demons can set up and execute the attacks. In this case, the attacks were (at least,) on both the mother and the daughter. But for the most part, the heart of that person themselves, is still yearning for love and reconciliation with their family. And with Jesus, hearts and behavior CAN be changed!

*

“But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.”
(Matthew 19:26, KJV)

“The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge: but fools despise wisdom and instruction. My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother: For they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck.” (Proverbs 1:7-9)

“Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right.” (Proverbs 20:11)

“Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.” (Proverbs 16:18, KJV)

“Now these are the commandments, the statutes, and the judgments, which the Lord your God commanded to teach you, that ye might do them in the land whither ye go to possess it: That thou mightest fear the Lord thy God, to keep all his statutes and his commandments, which I command thee, thou, and thy son, and thy son’s son, all the days of thy life; and that thy days may be prolonged. Hear therefore, O Israel, and observe to do it; that it may be well with thee, and that ye may increase mightily, as the Lord God of thy fathers hath promised thee, in the land that floweth with milk and honey. Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord: And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates. (Deuteronomy 6:1-9, KJV)

“And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.” (Ephesians 4:32, KJV)

* * * *

Living In Fear Of My Daughter

A dream…

(This was given to me many months after the dream one of my kids had that I’ve shared in my previous post. See https://dreamsofdunamis.wordpress.com/2013/01/03/what-about-the-children/)

I was a mother of a teenage girl, who was maybe fourteen or fifteen years old.

She looked like Amy Farafouler from the TV show called “The Big Bang”. But she wasn’t actually as smart,
She just acted like she was.

She had been sent home from school,
Along with all the others,
To go live with her family full time,
As the schools themselves had closed up,
Because they no longer had the funding and the supplies to keep them all open.

This girl,
Had been mostly brought up in the public school system,
(having spent her weekly days there,)
And was loyal to the system and the government, as taught by her teachers, and supported by her peers.
But now, suddenly, she was home with me.

I was still expected, somehow,
To be able to suddenly change where her loyalties lay,
And transfer that dependency on me.

But it didn’t work.

I was expected by the government,
To simply continue on the best that I could,
In continuing her devotion to the Government.

I was given full responsibility for her and her behavior,
But had no power to enforce anything.

Spanking of any form was outlawed,
And the only thing I had to help, perhaps,
To cause her to obey me,
Was the possible withholding of treats or presents.
(But even that was starting to be frowned upon by the government.)

We were told to go to a meeting of some kind,
And it reminded me of a church building and meeting,
For there were benches to sit on,
And those there in the audience, had to remain silent, and listen to the speaker talk.

Economic punishments were handed out
To those parents who had kids that interrupted the talks.

Mine just had to be one of the worst offenders in our little area.

She would whisper and talk to her friends sitting next to her,
And even laugh out loud, without any regard to the speaker,
Or others around her. She knew this would shame me.

I tried to go over and whisper to her to be quiet,
But she would then respond to me loudly,
Claiming that I was trying to talk to her about unimportant things unrelated to the service, and that “now was not the time.”

I was so mad at her, that I wanted to slap her, but knew I could not.

I threatened her, by telling her that I would withhold the treat I had set aside for her and give it to her younger brother instead, but she ignored me.

She kept on being loud and interrupting the service,
So I tried again to have her be silent,
By repeating my admonition.
She tried to get up, as if she was going to move away from me to sit farter away, but I held on to her tightly by the arm.
She yanked her arm from my grip,
But sat back down in her seat.
She then began to talk even louder to her friend next to her,
Laughing at something her friend had said,
And I reached behind her neck and grabbed a few hairs to hold on to, as she again struggled to get away from me.

Loosing a few strands of hair did nothing to stop her.

After the service,
As we piled up into my car to go back home,
I could hear my daughter talking to her friends
About how bad of a mother I was,
And if she should go ahead and make up a situation about me and her,
and then file a report on me with the authorities.

I sighed, and suddenly, as we were all driving home,
I seen my future with my daughter stretch out before me.
I’d be living in fear of my daughter, and of what she might do next to get at me.

It was quite unpleasant.

But what could I do?

I sighed again,
And began to count the days
Till she would move out on her own…

*

I then woke up.

* * * *