The Football Was The Truth

Before I share the conclusion from my last post, I would like to thank all those who have taken the time to comment on the blog and encourage me. You did far more than that. You are answered prayer!

For several years now, ever since moving out into the country, I have been asking the Lord Jesus to send me some  real friends. They tend to me more scarce out here in the middle of nowhere, and my old friends from the city cut off communications, stating that I now lived too far from them to get together with them.

To be honest, I had kind of given up on the prayer being answered here on earth, and began asking the Lord to have friends one day in heaven.

But after the responses I received (over 20 of them!) I broke down crying before my God, and thanking Him for the true friendships that He had just given me.

Thank You Jesus, for each and every one of you! May God bless you greatly!

And now for the conclusion of last week’s post…

(Continued from: https://dreamsofdunamis.wordpress.com/2016/11/12/the-football-field/)

So I asked the Lord what the football represented. “A treasure,” He replied. “Something very precious.” It took me a few days, before I realized what He meant. The football, was the Truth.

Living in a family where others can see into the unseen world, has given me little pieces of truth, that many in Christendom have not seen. Oh, had I known then what I know now, my life would have been so very different! I would not have wasted so much time “boxing as one beating the air” (1 Corinthians 9:26).

He also let me know, where I was at this point in my life in that dream. I had just stepped out of the cold and into the bus depot.

He pointed out to me, that I had stopped posting on the blog, and was in fact thinking of giving it up entirely.
I didn’t bother denying it; He was right.

He let me know who the people were in the bleachers, watching me. They were my friends and family. This made it harder for me to just walk away, for it’s easier to disappoint a stranger, than those you know and love.

“You really think I can play football for You, Lord?”

The thought amazed me, for I do not think myself much of a football player. I dislike fame or notoriety. I have had my taste of fame early on in my life, and I did not like it. In this dream I was obviously the quarterback, and such a prominent position in the game being given to me seemed totally out of place and unwarranted besides.

“I gave you the ball, didn’t I?”

Sigh.

Then the Lord reminded me of that dream I had recently, about the believers who kept going after a nuclear bomb went off. (https://dreamsofdunamis.wordpress.com/2016/04/18/jesus-could-save-them-from-the-radiation/) They decided to keep serving God for as long as they could. And God blessed them with health.

So why could I not try to do the same?

He then revealed to me, that there were courts in heaven filled with people watching me, and wanting me to succeed in playing the football. This also made it harder for me to stay in the bus depot. When I get up to heaven, I do not want to feel shame at having failed my God. I want to be able to face Noah, Moses, Joseph, Mary, Elizabeth, Junia, Ruth, and all those written of in the books of heaven, knowing that I had done the best I could with what was given to me.

I knew then that I had to get back onto the playing field.

So I ask you, dear reader, are you doing all you have been called to do by the Lord, or have you given up like me? Heaven is watching us to see what we will do next…
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Hebrews 12:1-2 ESV “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

2 Timothy 4:7-9 ESV “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing. Do your best to come to me soon.”

Acts 20:24 ESV “But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.”

Philippians 3:13-14 ESV “Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”
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All The Christmas Stuff

It was now January second, 2011. With the holidays now over for another year, we began the task of cleaning up all the stuff, and packing it away for next year. But after what happened with the lights, (see previous post,) I did not want to even start, without praying first.

“Dear Jesus,” I said in my prayer place, “please let us know if there are other things we need to get rid of, besides not lighting the Christmas lights during the winter solstice. Is there something else that we would be better off not having? I don’t want anything unclean in my house. I don’t want anything that the demons could use to enter and attack us with! Please Lord! Gift us with a spiritually clean camp for us to live in!”

I paused for several moments, waiting for a response, but all was silent.

“Oh Lord, You know my heart. You know it is for You. You know that I desire to serve You with all that I am. I live for You. You alone are why I am still here. Please. LET ME KNOW.”

Silence still greeted me. I sensed that I should begin my work. So I rose and went out to begin disassembling the Christmas decorations.

I began by removing all the ornaments on the Christmas tree, and putting them back in the huge ornament storage box. I was half way done with the ornaments, when I noticed that my hands had begun to burn, as if I had touched a caustic chemical somehow, and was having a reaction to it.

I wondered if it was from the box of new unbreakable plastic bulbs that we had opened and added to our tree this year. There was probably some chemical on them that was irritating my skin. I set them aside in their original packing, and made a note to not use them next year, just in case.

I went to wash my hands, and I applied some hand cream that had always worked before to calm down a chemical reaction on my skin.

But this time, there was no difference. My hands still burned as before.

I went back to my work, figuring that the lotion just needed more time to do its job.

I switched from working on the tree, to packing up the advent wreath. But the burning on my hands just became worse.

Suddenly, one of my kids came up to me and exclaimed “Mom! What have you been touching?! Your hands are just COVERED with thick, black, smoke!”

So I told the child what I had been doing, and that my hands were very much in pain.

“Mom,” This child responded to me, “I can’t even SEE your own hands at all! All I see is a ball of thick black swirling smoke at the end of each of your arms!”

I stopped what I was doing. I realized then, that the pain in my hands must be spiritual, and not physical. But then my heart began to ache as well, for I had just begun to realize, what this now meant.

All those Christmas tree ornaments! The advent wreath! The Lord was letting us know, that they were tainted, unclean!

Our family then gathered to discuss what this meant, and what should now be done. Everyone agreed that we needed to get rid of the stuff that was spiritually tainted.

My husband agreed to get rid of the holiday lights, for if he could no longer use them during the days of winter solstice, (December 21st through the 26th,) then they were not worth all the trouble of putting them up and taking them down every year.

The kids felt that if they could not have the lights on the Christmas tree, then they no longer wanted to put up the Christmas tree. Too much work, for little reward. (I had to agree with them; the Christmas tree lights are what made it all so beautiful and special. Without the lights, it seemed like just another tree that was in our house.) The kids did not like having to get under the tree to water it, and hated the influx of creepy (and even dangerous) spiders that surfaced shortly after it was first brought in. Pine needles got into everything and were a daily mess to sweep up.

“We could get a fake tree, if you wanted to try that,” I said to them.

But no one wanted to go through the bother.

“It’s o.k.,” said one of my kids. “We don’t have to have a tree.”

Another one piped up, “As long as we can still have the presents!” Then the thought of the alternative must have come into this child’s mind, for the child then quickly added, “We can still have presents, right mom?”

“I’m not prepared to make that kind of a decision right now. I’m still trying to come to terms with having no tree!”

They seemed to understand this, (they could see that I was shaken and very upset,) so they left their present questions for a later time.

No one questioned the vision of this particular child; this child is the one that can see into that unseen world, like most people can see each other. This child sees the demons and casts them out in the name of Jesus. This child sees and converses with the angels, and is filled with the Holy Spirit. Often times, this child was the one to give us warnings of evil that was coming our way, and we were able to avoid and prevent great tragedy because of it. We have learned not to ignore this child’s visions.

But this! Surely there was some mistake! All those Christmas tree ornaments? Ugh! I simply could not face such a loss, so I went into denial.

“Maybe there are some Christmas ornaments that we CAN keep,” I said to the others. “Maybe we should see which ones are tainted, and which ones are not.”

The others nodded in agreement.

So the kids and I began to go through each item, to discern if it was clean enough to keep or not.

Some were easy for the kids to discern; they were quick to point out those right away. But by the end of the day, my hands throbbed with burning pain, and it began to be too painful to touch anything else.

So I called for a break, and asked this particular child (the one who has such strong visions,) to come and help me bless my hands.

I did not even bother to wash my hands this time with soap and water, for I knew it was spiritual and not physical. THE MOMENT THE BLESSED OLIVE OIL TOUCHED MY ACHING HANDS, THE BURNING AND PAIN SUBSIDED!

The child looked at my hands and said, “The black smoke is all gone now Mom.”

I gave a great sigh of relief.

I then looked back upon all the things that we had gone through, and realized with a sinking heart, that it made up quite a big pile of stuff. There was not even one Christmas tree ornament that was able to be saved.

I went back to my God in prayer, and told Him how sad I was, about all the tainted items. I then asked Him what He wanted us to do with it.

“Wait. Just set it aside and wait till you go though all the Christmas stuff.”

But I knew what the end of these things would be. I knew in my heart, that He wanted us to get rid of all of it. I just didn’t know if He would want us to pass it through the fire, and then break it all up into little pieces.

We had done such, (as Acts 19:19 describes,) to smaller amounts that were unclean and found to be tainted idols, but never to such a large amount of stuff. Even with the smaller items, we found that it left the ground a dangerous mess, with shards of broken pottery, glass, and metal pieces that were too hard to fully remove from the fire pit. The thought of smashing all those glass bulbs was a bit much for me to bear. I imagined the mess it would make and dreaded it.

“Don’t think of that right now,” He told me. “Just work on going through all the stuff.”

As usual, the Lord was right.

It took us almost two weeks, to go through all the Christmas stuff. It was heart wrenchingly painful, for we found that most of it too, was tainted.

Several times I broke down crying, when I’d realize that something precious to me was actually tainted and needed to be removed.

Anything that had a Christmas logo on it, was seen as having that thick, black smoke on it. Santa, reindeer, elves, holly, holly berries, bulbs, ornaments, a string of lights, the phrase ‘Merry Christmas’, red and green ribbons, presents, wreaths, anything with Yule Tide written on it; it was all tainted with the spirit of Christmas.

I think the most surprising of all the stuff, was the baby Jesus statues. The Roman Catholic ones that had the hands and arms molded into their odd positions, (reminding me of the hands and fingers of the Buddha god statue,) were the ones that had the darkest black smoke around them. The one that had a picture of a simple baby on it, only had a grayish fog surrounding it. Madonna and child statues and pictures, especially the ones with the halo in back of their heads, were among the worst.

I thought of all the money that these things were worth, (some of this stuff had yet to even be opened!,) and that perhaps we should just sell them to someone else, but I cringed at the thought of being responsible for giving such tainted items to another. I didn’t want that on my conscience, not at any price!

Oh but the things that were hardest for me to give up, were the priceless heirlooms that had been handed down to me from my family. At least three generations of stuff. The table cloth painted and embroidered with holly leaves and berries by the kids great grandmother, The placemat, kitchen appliance covers, and stuffed centerpiece, all patterned with a huge Christmas swan (or goose) that had been sewn up by my mother for our family, the ceramic creche my mother had formed for us in her ceramics class, complete with real gold highlights painted on the figurines. This alone had cost her several hundred dollars, just to add real gold to the statues. Even the Christmas ornament made by my great grandmother’s hands had to go. All was tainted with the spirit of Christmas. The hardest one of all to let go of, was a small little manger set that I had grown up with. It held so many memories for me. The pull to keep it was very great! But every time I would touch it, my hands would start to burn again. I knew in my heart that I had to let it go.

Numerous times during this cleansing, I would stop, and go into my private prayer place, and ask the Lord if there was some way I could still keep some of the items.

But He would usually tell me no.

“But Lord!” I pleaded with Him, “I’ve gotten rid of so much stuff already! Would it really hurt to just keep a few things to remember it all by?”

And He would often answer me with a question of His own.

“How many doorways for demons would you like to keep in your home?”

Or these ones that really got in to the heart of the matter.

“Will you not follow Me, ma petite? Can’t you trust Me? Are you not Mine?”

These last questions would cause me to fall at His feet in surrender, and then return to the sorting.

But I still cried. For days it was as if I was in mourning. It took me a while to say goodbye to all the stuff. I know this sounds silly. I am ashamed to admit that I mourned the loss of these things. But morn them I did. And the Lord, in all His mighty patience, remained there right beside me, as I cried, mourned their loss, and then continued on until the next great heirloom triggered that retaining emotion within me. Then the whole process would start up all over again.

He never forced me to give up any of it. I knew I had the choice to keep it. But I also knew my God, which meant that if He wanted me to give it up, then there was a very good reason for Him to do so, and I simply needed to let go and put my trust in Him.

Finally, all the items had been sorted. All that was left, was some rolls of Christmas paper and ribbons in solid colors (and with no holiday printings on it,) a few greeting cards that had only pictures of snow flakes on them, and some guest hand towels, that had been cut off at one end, where a holiday design had once been embroidered upon it. These towels would now be used as kitchen rags.

Both my hands and my heart were exhausted.

As I sealed up the last of the huge boxes of Christmas items, I felt the Lord tell me what we were to do with them.

“Throw them out.”

“You mean we don’t have to burn it all in our fire pit?” (I was greatly relieved to hear this!)

“No.”

“But Lord,” I replied, “Our garbage can is already overflowing!” Then I thought of an alternative. “Can we bring the stuff down to the garbage dump?”

“Yes. Close the boxes up, and label their outsides as ‘GARBAGE’, and then take them down to the local dump.”

That Saturday morning, the stuff was tossed into the city dump. There, it would be added into a big pile of other people’s garbage, crushed into a very small block, and then finally burned in a huge furnace.

The remains of history totaling almost over one hundred years of family Christmases, (and at least a thousand dollars worth or more of stuff,) had just been removed from our house.

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(And yes, in case you were wondering, our family still exchanges presents with each other. We now celebrate the Feast of Dedication. For eight nights, we each share a miracle or answered prayer from our own life, light the (7 candle) menorah, read scripture out loud, play board games with each other, and open up presents. Remembering God’s miracles in our lives has rekindled our faith in Him, and serves as a reminder to re-dedicate ourselves -a living temple,- back to Him. So far, no demonic attacks upon our family have taken place from celebrating this holy day, and great peace is experienced during this time, especially while the menorah is lit.)

To Jesus Christ goes all Glory! Thank you Jesus Christ of Nazareth!!

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A Deal With The Devil

In the beginning of 1992, I called out for the devil, and he came to me.

We (our family) were driving, and I told my husband that I’d be willing to make a deal with the devil to be a teacher again of cosmetology.

My husband just looked at me in shock. “Woman,” he said, “do you know what you have just said?!”

I thought his comment was a bit off; my husband had never referred to me simply as ‘woman’, especially when we were together in the same place.

But that odd warning did nothing to stop me. “Well I would!” I replied to his glare. The silence in the car was deafening, and we both felt a little uncomfortable, but I soon forgot all about it.

Until that night.

I was almost asleep, (or was I already asleep?) when he came. He called me, and I asked the voice who he was.

He said “you know who I am; you called for me.”

I sat up in bed and looked over to the left where I had heard the voice come from. It was hard to see much of anything, for the room was filled with clouds and smoke. But then there were two spots of pure bright white light that shone out from the corner of the room. These lights were perfectly circular, and sat next to each other horizontally like snake eyes. Looking into his eyes was like looking into a slice of leftover heaven, bright, peaceful, pure, and white.

But that was the only part of him that reminded me of heaven.

As I stared at the two white lights, a grayish-white smoke swirled all around them, and then began to swirl even further into the room.
This gray-white smoke then parted for just a moment, and I caught a glimpse of what looked like the middle part of a long tail, covered with shiny reflective scales. The very top of the snake body was dark green in color, the sides were a lighter green, and the belly had a yellow-green mixture of scales that slowly turned into a stripe of pale beige in the center. It moved like a snake, pushing its belly forward, so it could rest its neck and eyes above it. When the smoke swirled to cover him there, another area opened up to my view. This area was closer to its eyes, and I could see a pair of very small thin arms with hands on the end of them, similar to the ones found on the T-rex dinosaur, protruding from the underside and side of its form. As the smoke swirled about him, I could see that the body was long, and went on beyond my sight. But it never revealed its face to me. Just those startling and hauntingly beautiful eyes.

He spoke to me then, and asked me for the soul of my youngest boy, telling me that in exchange, he would let me teach again, and even be a director of the nearby school. He somehow had transported us into my youngest son’s bedroom; I could see him below me sleeping peacefully, but I could not touch him or protect him from this devil.

But with this one, my answer was easy.

“No!”

But then, knowingly, the devil pulled me into my older son’s bedroom. I seen my eldest son lying on his mattress, fast asleep. I dreaded the next question from satan, as I already knew what his question would be. How did he know my weakness so well? It was as if he had calculatingly discerned, to ask me for my youngest son first, KNOWING I would say no, and then turning to my oldest son, in the hopes that I would capitulate on him and then seal the deal.

My first born son had been born with disabilities, ones that made it harder to love him. He disobeyed more often than not, and was prone to violent temper tantrums, often striking out and injuring those closest to him. He disliked being held or touched, and often seemed to live in a world of his own. I had spent many hours in tears over him, figuring that he would probably one day end up in prison.

THIS was the child satan had wanted in exchange from the first!

And so satan turned to me, and asked me for his soul, in exchange for my teaching position.

I floated over his toddler bed, watching him pull in his breath, and letting it out, for several moments. Oh how peaceful he now looked!

Satan sensed my weakness at such a long pause, and came towards me, pushing me harder to give him the answer he desired.

But there was one thought that entered my head at that moment, one that made me really doubt all my previous assumptions about my oldest child.

Satan was ASKING me for his soul. That meant it was not yet his! (Yes, there were many times I had wondered if he was already of satan; his behavior was that bad!) But if satan had to come to me to ask me for my son’s soul, that meant that there was REAL HOPE for him in the future! For why would satan try to bargain for a soul that he knew would soon be his anyways? He wouldn’t waste his time on it. I KNEW this, as sure as I was still breathing.

Then I knew that if there was the slightest chance of my eldest son ever coming to Christ, then I could not sell his soul to satan for anything. No matter what his behavior was, he was still precious, and he was still the child that I had so longed for, for so many years. This was the one that I had promised God, that I would love as my own, no matter what.

So as satan pressed in again for my answer, I told him “No!”

I thought that this would be the end of it, but satan kept on, nagging me, over and over and over again, trying to convince me to hand over his soul as payment for the desired favor. I told satan to leave, but he refused.

After several hours of this, I lost my temper, and yelled at him, that I would NEVER sell my children’s soul to him for ANYTHING!
At that, the devil paused.

And I thought, ‘at last! He will leave me now!’, but he did not.

Instead, he changed his offer.

Suddenly, we were back in my bedroom, with satan still floating above me. I was no longer in my bed, but found that I had gotten down on my knees on the floor by my bedside.

He then whispered to me, in that sly, knowing voice of his, -it sounded like a hiss that formed into words, never shouting or loosing patience,- that he would get rid of my migraines, if I only promised him my soul when I died.

My first response, was “No.”

But then he pressed upon my head, and forcibly reminded me of the pain of those horrible migraines. I would get them so bad that I would want to kill myself, but as soon as I would reach that point, the pain would be so severe, that I had no strength left within me to take my own life. Day after day, year after year, I lived in a cycle of never-ending migraine pain.

Again I told him, “no!,” but it was a weaker no, and he sensed this right away.

So he pressed in again and again, hoping I would change my answer and agree to his bargain.

I sat there, at the side of my bed, struggling just to hold my head up in its pain.

And then from seemingly afar off, I began to hear voices. I looked down onto the ground, from where they seemed to originate from, and found that the floor where I sat was no longer a solid unbroken foundation, but a crack had opened up beside me, that allowed me a glimpse into hell.

The voices were all crying out at the same time, howling in their pain and anguish. But this is not what struck me the hardest.

What hit me the hardest was the incredible, overpowering, hollow insatiable HUNGER. It was a living, moving entity, there in the pit before me. It consumed all souls in its grip and would never let go. It was HOLLOW and INSATIABLE.

Hunger for water, hunger for food, hunger for sleep, hunger for healing, hunger for companionship, hunger for ANYTHING and everything, that a human being would ever desire. But the fulfillment for it was not there. Only the HUNGER for it was there. And it NEVER ENDED. I knew it never would.

I could feel the heat from below rising up to my face. I could feel and smell the thick pungent smoke as it followed the searing heat upwards. And above all, was that insatiable, never satisfied spirit of HUNGER.

I backed away from the edge of the abyss, and shouted to the devil my answer.

“No! Now go away!”

But he remained.

The crack leading below closed up, and my floor looked as it did before.

But still satan would not leave me.

I could tell that many hours had passed, since satan had come to speak to me. (The clock on my nightstand told me this,) but still he would not leave me alone.

He nagged, over and over and over and over and over again, for me to change my answer.

But my answer remained the same.

“No! Never! Now get out of here! Leave me alone!”

But he remained.

I told him then, that he should never have appeared to me, for now I KNEW, without a shadow of doubt that God DOES exist! (For how could this earth survive something so evil as this worm without Him?!)

But he simply shrugged this off in total apathy, and continued to tempt me.

Then I suddenly remembered someone telling me, that all evil spirits run from Jesus name, so I yelled out “JESUS! JESUS HELP ME! JESUS!”

And then the devil and all his smoke disappeared from my bedroom in the blink of an eye.

I found that my husband had awoken with my screaming, and was reaching out to comfort me from across the bed, to where I was still crouched on the floor. He wanted to know why I had called out for the Lord.

So I told him.
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I share my testimony with you today, because I sense that there will be those out there in the future, who may think about making their own deal with the devil. They may wish to make such a bargain, for something as basic as even having some food to eat. BUT KNOW THIS: THERE WILL NEVER BE ANYTHING WE WILL ENDURE ON THIS EARTH THAT WILL EVEN COME CLOSE TO BEING WORTH AN ETERNITY IN HELL!
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Matthew 13:42 “And shall cast them into a furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth.”
Ps 86:13 For great is thy mercy toward me: and thou hast delivered my soul from the lowest hell.
Pr 15:24 The way of life is above to the wise, that he may depart from hell beneath.
Revelation 14:11 “And the smoke of their torment goes up forever and ever; and they have no rest day and night, those who worship the beast and his image, and whoever receives the mark of his name.”
Matthew 10:28 “And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. But rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.”
Mark 8:36, “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”
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