Readers,
I make this plural today because it's obvious this blog is getting a lot of attention. I think that's awesome, but I keep hoping that it's not about me. I'm becoming more aware that anything not glorifying to Him may as well be perishing or worthless.
Today has been neat. We really didn't work much, so it's been kind of leisurely. However, I woke up this morning a little bit unsettled. At service last night I found myself praying a lot to understand more the depths of His love and the weight of the cross. I prayed that somehow He would show me these things, whether they be dreams, visions, or just people. After I prayed this Matt Hawn came up to me and squeezed me so tight and said, "He loves you so much and He's so proud of you." This just warmed me to the core. Just before that I was thinking how everything my boyfriend does reminds me so much of His love for me too. Then I would reflect on my dad and how much he showed me that love.
Still, last night I had a dream that was vaguely disturbing for a few reasons, although since I started writing it's become a little more foggy, so bear with me. It was a pre-apocalypse-type dream. Although it was so clear when I woke up I only remember feelings of fear and anticipation and confusion. I remember quoting revelations to other believers and assuring them of the situation. I remember things falling apart and order coming undone. There were building simply burning to the ground and people fleeing their homes. I don't mean to be frightening, but it was so vivid and seemed very real. I remember at one point breaking from the group I was fleeing with (although there was chaos the believers seemed to be filled with no fear, but complete awareness which made time seem to move slowly) and I went into an home, untouched by fire and rubble.
This is when things began to unsettle me. To backtrack, I remember one night in Ecuador (real life story, not a dream) when we were all praying thinking, "Satan must hate the genuineness of this." Then I heard the door slam and lots of noise behind us and finally I felt a weird sense someone was very close to me. I don't mean to crack this up to more than it was. I brushed it off as nothing more than 30-some people being in a room in a quiet prayer and a person coming up to me. Still, when I explain the dream you'll see why the dream weirded me out rather than that moment.
After I walked into the home it was nicely decorated, dimly lit, and a man stood in it. He was much older, with wrinkles and grey hair. At times, he was young with black hair and handsome. He spoke to me lies, he unsettled me so much, yet I felt like I knew him very well. I never heard his voice, but I always knew when he was talking. Like I said, he was so familiar. He tried to strike fear into me, but I refused to give in, although this was so hard for me to do. I would pretend what he said or did wasn't unsettling, that he was outrageous for thinking I could fall for any of it and tried to ignore him.
At one point I remember knowing Jesus was so near. It was a different feeling with Him. I couldn't see Him, I just stared in the distance knowing the minute I left the building I would be with Him and others, which comforted me greatly. I also knew it was almost over.
When I woke up I felt like it had been so real, I found myself having a really difficult time adjusting to being awake.
Then I realized death must be like dreaming (not to sound morbid). That there is no time, not order, no storyline. That's how the dream was. I just knew what was happening, even if there was no sense of time or an order of events. That's the closest I've probably felt ever in understanding Heaven. And Hell...
It gave me one more realization as well. The voice in the strangely orderly house, during all that chaos, was the enemy. His face and voice was so familiar. Yet he no longer held any power over me. Yet Jesus' face was still unseen, although I knew His voice much better, without even hearing a sound.
I know this may all seem weird. I'm not one to fall into talks about demons or prophecies or fortunetelling. Still, I can't really shake this one. I was reading Isaiah today and it just wouldn't shake, I can't totally explain it.
Truthfully, I don't know how to easily transition this blog to an end. I hope this means something to someone. It at least feels good to get it off my chest.
Chelsy.
I make this plural today because it's obvious this blog is getting a lot of attention. I think that's awesome, but I keep hoping that it's not about me. I'm becoming more aware that anything not glorifying to Him may as well be perishing or worthless.
Today has been neat. We really didn't work much, so it's been kind of leisurely. However, I woke up this morning a little bit unsettled. At service last night I found myself praying a lot to understand more the depths of His love and the weight of the cross. I prayed that somehow He would show me these things, whether they be dreams, visions, or just people. After I prayed this Matt Hawn came up to me and squeezed me so tight and said, "He loves you so much and He's so proud of you." This just warmed me to the core. Just before that I was thinking how everything my boyfriend does reminds me so much of His love for me too. Then I would reflect on my dad and how much he showed me that love.
Still, last night I had a dream that was vaguely disturbing for a few reasons, although since I started writing it's become a little more foggy, so bear with me. It was a pre-apocalypse-type dream. Although it was so clear when I woke up I only remember feelings of fear and anticipation and confusion. I remember quoting revelations to other believers and assuring them of the situation. I remember things falling apart and order coming undone. There were building simply burning to the ground and people fleeing their homes. I don't mean to be frightening, but it was so vivid and seemed very real. I remember at one point breaking from the group I was fleeing with (although there was chaos the believers seemed to be filled with no fear, but complete awareness which made time seem to move slowly) and I went into an home, untouched by fire and rubble.
This is when things began to unsettle me. To backtrack, I remember one night in Ecuador (real life story, not a dream) when we were all praying thinking, "Satan must hate the genuineness of this." Then I heard the door slam and lots of noise behind us and finally I felt a weird sense someone was very close to me. I don't mean to crack this up to more than it was. I brushed it off as nothing more than 30-some people being in a room in a quiet prayer and a person coming up to me. Still, when I explain the dream you'll see why the dream weirded me out rather than that moment.
After I walked into the home it was nicely decorated, dimly lit, and a man stood in it. He was much older, with wrinkles and grey hair. At times, he was young with black hair and handsome. He spoke to me lies, he unsettled me so much, yet I felt like I knew him very well. I never heard his voice, but I always knew when he was talking. Like I said, he was so familiar. He tried to strike fear into me, but I refused to give in, although this was so hard for me to do. I would pretend what he said or did wasn't unsettling, that he was outrageous for thinking I could fall for any of it and tried to ignore him.
At one point I remember knowing Jesus was so near. It was a different feeling with Him. I couldn't see Him, I just stared in the distance knowing the minute I left the building I would be with Him and others, which comforted me greatly. I also knew it was almost over.
When I woke up I felt like it had been so real, I found myself having a really difficult time adjusting to being awake.
Then I realized death must be like dreaming (not to sound morbid). That there is no time, not order, no storyline. That's how the dream was. I just knew what was happening, even if there was no sense of time or an order of events. That's the closest I've probably felt ever in understanding Heaven. And Hell...
It gave me one more realization as well. The voice in the strangely orderly house, during all that chaos, was the enemy. His face and voice was so familiar. Yet he no longer held any power over me. Yet Jesus' face was still unseen, although I knew His voice much better, without even hearing a sound.
I know this may all seem weird. I'm not one to fall into talks about demons or prophecies or fortunetelling. Still, I can't really shake this one. I was reading Isaiah today and it just wouldn't shake, I can't totally explain it.
Truthfully, I don't know how to easily transition this blog to an end. I hope this means something to someone. It at least feels good to get it off my chest.
Chelsy.
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