“Whoever has ears, let him hear” (Matthew 11:15).
The following is a recounting of a prophetic dream I had a few years ago.
The dream began with me standing in what appeared to be the shoe department of a department store with a little old man sitting in one of the fitting chairs across the room. I walked over to the old man and noticed a pair of shoes sitting on the table across from him. I picked up the shoes and looked at the price ticket. On the ticket, there were two red symbols and some other writing. I have no recollection of what was written on the ticket; however, whatever it was angered me greatly, as though the store was deliberately hiding something from the public. I turned to the old man, who was identified to me as an employee, and began to question him. Our exchange quickly turned into a spectacle attracting the attention of a few people standing off to our right on the edge of what appeared to be a huge terminal filled with rows and rows of couches with people sleeping on them.
Next, I was in a darkened corridor of an old house with a staircase at the far end where Satan stood staring at me. He presented himself as a middle-aged Caucasian man with a slender build and blond slicked back hair. His outward appearance was unthreatening and unimpressive, but the presence emanating from within was of immense power and rage. Because he was able to appear to be many things at the same time, it’s difficult to do his description justice. In this persona, I distinctly recall that he was called Number One, and his purpose, or function, was as the one working behind the scenes. The designation as Number One and the one working behind the scenes were distinct characteristics purposefully conveyed. Satan was furious, because of the attention my protest was attracting.
Satan surrounded me like a serpent squeezing its prey. His eyes were glowing electric blue and his face was filled with an intense fierceness and hatred. I knew that his intentions were deadly, and the threat was real. Frightened and overwhelmed, I barely mustered up the courage to utter a rebuke in the name of Jesus, which to my complete surprise, he disregarded. I realize that in my weakness that I was without faith, but the Lord was faithful, and met my need at the precise and perfect moment. Filled with the Holy Spirit, who was outraged at Satan’s insolence, I stomped my foot and declared with boldness, “How dare you defy the name of Jesus!” Unlike the first, my second rebuke resulted in his instantaneous retreat back across the corridor. A terrible dread seized his face, for this time it was not I who rebuked him, but the Spirit of God within me. Staring back at me with contempt, Satan crept up the stairs as one who was physically pummeled. Although he was beaten, I knew that we would cross paths again.
Finally, I was back in the terminal where I found a friend sleeping on one of the couches. I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away. Then I woke. “Whoever has ears, let him hear” (Matthew 11:15).
This post is an account of one of my first prophetic dreams, and there were more to follow, as I would find out in the coming weeks, months, and years. It was during this same period, my mother’s first aneurysm was foretold to me in a different dream. These dreams generally come in seasons, which is good, because I don’t get much rest on those nights, and the dreams have a clarity, as well as a permanence, normal dreams most often lack. I have come to see these dreams as the Spirit pulling back the veil to reveal mere snippets of an unseen reality operating in the midst of what is seen, in a way my puny brain can comprehend and communicate to others.
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