“The third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water—the name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter, and many people died from the waters that had become bitter” (Revelation 8:10-11).
Maybe the devil didn’t like my post yesterday about testing the spirits, because I had a dream last night that left me pretty shaken up. All the other dreams I’ve shared so far have been from years ago; it’s been a while since I’ve had one with such intensity and urgency. I have no idea how my dream ties any way with Wormwood in the Bible, but that’s the scripture I was given. “The third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water—the name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter, and many people died from the waters that had become bitter” (Revelation 8:10-11).
I don’t recall exactly how the dream started, but people I had never met were in my house. At first just a few people, but their numbers kept multiplying to the point I lost count. The people consisted of men and women, young and old, and of different races. I realized that they weren’t human, and they knew I knew they weren’t human; there was total transparency in that regard. They were patronizing and really didn’t interact with me unless I interacted with them or tried to flee. I was their prisoner as they went about their business. This went on and on for what seemed like hours. They scoffed at all my attempts to drive them out, although when I referenced Jesus by name, they did pause with noticeable dread on their faces, but then quickly resumed going about their business. I looked and saw that a woman was constructing something across the room; something I somehow knew was intended for me to stand on to hang myself. They wanted me to give up; they wanted me to believe that I had been abandoned by God. They wanted me to believe that Christ had no power over them. This was a determined and methodical attack. I was exhausted. I finally fell to my knees in a heap and started crying. I asked Jesus to please forgive me, and as I was uttering those words, the woman rushed across that room toward me. The last thing I remember is seeing her face morph into something ugly, and hearing her say, “No!” I immediately woke, then maybe a minute or two went by and my alarm went off.
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