Testimonies

God Spoke While I Slept

by Anna Thomas
07/20/21
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GOD SPOKE WHILE I SLEPT

On  December 21, 1966, I married Vince, a firefighter in the Air Force. I was 18; he was 21. Soon afterward, an unexplained sadness and a smoldering anger began gnawing at me. I told no one. However, God knew about this inner melancholy blanketing my spirit.

During the next12 years, I became the mother of two children, graduated from nursing school as an LPN, and worked as a nurse. Throughout those years, Vince and I faithfully attended church. My desire to have a closer relationship with God turned into a hunger and thirst. Having private time for Bible study and prayer became a priority in my life. 

One night I retired and had the following dream. The dream was unusual in that I was both a spectator and a participant.

I saw myself sitting in a chair. A light from above spotlighted and encircled me, then dissolved within three feet in every direction. Only darkness laid beyond. I felt calm and safe. A sixth sense compelled me to stare straight ahead into the darkness. A large square gray area appeared. The consistency and color reminded me of a thick fog. Next, an open Bible appeared on it. The Bible moved toward me, enlarging until I could read the exact book and chapter—Isaiah 43—before it disappeared. The scene repeated twice in total silence and ended. 

When I woke the next morning, I read that chapter, and verse 2 spoke to my heart: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze” (NIV).

I knew God spoke through dreams, but I couldn’t connect the dream’s message of assurance for strength and protection to anything happening in my life. I did not know God was preparing to reveal secrets hidden inside me. Although I was drawn to read Isaiah 43:2 at intervals, fear that turmoil might come and fulfill the dream’s promise of protection never entered my mind. Eleven years passed before the scripture’s message became reality.

Vince and I had now been married 20 years. Our sons had graduated from high school, obtained jobs, moved out, and started families on their own. 

One day while on vacation, an unnerving moment occurred. We were swimming. Vince pulled my body close to his, and repulsion shot through me like a bolt of electricity. I pretended to enjoy his embrace but desperately wanted to pull away. I felt violated. Startled and confused, I hid my emotions and said nothing. The rest of our vacation went well. 

 Another puzzling incident happened when Vince was at work. I was home mowing grass when a vivid picture of a concrete wall suddenly flashed into my mind. It reminded me of a dam. Then a pin size hole appeared two or three feet from the top. I stopped. Nervousness settled in my stomach as something told me, “Life will be changing.” 

From that moment, the sadness slowly changed into despair, and despair transformed into a profound darkness and oppression. Guilt and shame for having no reason for depression kept me from seeking help. It became difficult to maintain a happy facade. The depression interfered with my work performance. I had to quit my nursing job.    

My mental state worsened, and one day after church I drove myself to the hospital, walked to the psychiatric unit, handed the nurse my journal notes, and was admitted for suicidal thoughts. I shuffled back to my room, crawled onto the bed, and wept until I fell asleep. I awakened to a gentle hand on my shoulder and a soft voice saying, “Anna.”

I opened my eyes. Vince was kneeling beside the bed. I sat up, put my feet on the floor, sobbed, and said, “I want to die.”

He gasped. We sat in silence and held each other. 

All physical tests, and questions by the therapist and psychiatrist, failed to uncover the reason for the deep oppression. Emotionally more stable after three weeks, I was released from the hospital. I maintained doctor visits for a few months, then stopped because I felt better.

Approximately three months passed. The debilitating depression crept back into my life as a constant, irritable anger. I began meeting weekly with a Christian counselor. A few weeks into therapy, new emotions attached to my deepening oppression surfaced. 

I asked my counselor, “Why do I feel disgust, rage, and sharp stabs of anguish in my spirit? Why do I experience overwhelming guilt and shame as if I have done something wrong? Why do I have periods of feeling dirty, being used like an object and tossed aside?” 

“Anna, I have no answer for you right now,” the counselor said.

Finally, the core reason for my oppression surfaced—childhood sexual and ritual abuse. It was like I was experiencing someone else’s childhood—except it was mine.

Vivid flashbacks of childhood sexual abuse began. A few months later, flashbacks of ritualistic abuse emerged. These scenes terrorized my mental and physical well being, and the weight of the blackness I experienced intensified. Experiencing flashbacks left me feeling like a piece of cracked glass. Touch me and I would shatter into a million pieces. Feeling like my humanness and dignity were stolen saturated my being. My compassion for others slipped away. Love and joy were taken out of my heart. Doing deeds of kindness became a heavy burden.

The grueling flashbacks and the agonizing emotions seemed never-ending. Time after time, Oppression whispered, “It’s better to die than live like this. You will never get out of my blackness.” Its message grew intense and intoxicating. It alarmed me.

The two following life-like dreams revealed the extreme spiritual conflict and emotional weight I carried.

I found myself alone in a dark room. Silence permeated the eerie, sultry air. I laid on my back, suspended, in mid-air, weightless and unable to move. Powerlessness washed over me. My heart raced.

The faint stream of cool air feathering against my face warned me my body was slowly rotating. The hissing sound of the air whizzing past me grew louder and harsher against my face as my body spins faster and faster. I couldn’t think. The spinning stopped. Remaining elevated and paralyzed with my wits intact, I wondered why I wasn’t dizzy and why did I lack the desire to fight back. Instinct told me that my fight=or=flight response had been deadened because the event was a test. A hand laid on each of my shoulders from behind and pulled my stuff body down a few inches. One arm slid under my legs and another under my trunk. My body jerked and I became limp in the arms of an unseen person. My hands rested on my lap and my eyes looked straight ahead. I was carried outside into the cold night and placed into the passenger side of a car. I saw no face, only a long, black, hooded robe.The instant the person shut the door; I heard the clicking of the doors locking and the stranger vanished. The headlights came on and the car drove itself down the road into the darkness. I was horrified while looking out the front window into the dark. 

Suddenly, a wolf appeared beside me in the driver’s seat with its front paws on the steering wheel—driving! The sight took my breath away and immobilized me. I knew no one could help me. The gray and white wolf turned his heavy head toward me and flashed an intimidating smile to reveal his long sharp teeth dripping with saliva. His dark eyes sent me a silent message: Satan sent him with the assignment to test whether my belief in using God’s Word to help me was genuine. I recalled scriptures that referenced the authoritative power a child of God legally has to use the name of Jesus Christ, such as, “…He gave them power against unclean spirits….” (Matthew 10:1) “…and gave them power and authority over all devils….” (Luke 9:1). I turned to the wolf and said, “In the name of Jesus Christ, I rebuke you.” The wolf disappeared and my dream ended. 

In the second dream, I saw myself sitting on a couch in an unfamiliar room. Suddenly, the couch began to levitate up toward the ceiling. Then nick-nacks and articles were hurled toward me by an unseen force. Instinct told me it was Satan trying to scare me with his show of power. 

Although I saw no image or form of a supernatural being, I said aloud, “My God is greater and you can’t scare me.” The couch began speeding from room to room as articles continued being hurled at me. Ironically, none of the articles were hitting me. I continued saying, “My God is greater, you can’t scare me.” Remaining on the levitated couch being zoomed from room to room without being harmed by the objects, the dream ended. Once again the scriptures fought for me. “Greater is He that is in me then he that is in the world” (1 John 4:4). 

Hebrews 4:12 describes the Word as strong, powerful and active and the dreams became an encouraging, faith building reminder that with His Word living in me, the Holy Spirit is able to effectively use Scripture to fight dark forces. 

Scripture compares Satan to a “roaring lion seeking whom he may devour” (1 Peter 5:8). If Satan can’t claim your soul, he will try destroying your testimony for God. Ephesians 6:11 tells us we must prepare to stand against the devil’s schemes. Thankfully, “God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand” (1 Corinthians 10:13 NLT). 

One constant emotion felt like my heart was methodically being mauled by anguish. But during one incident, God let me know my experiencing such indescribable anguish was finished.

Vince and I were alone at church practicing my solo for Sunday’s service. The first run-through, the phrase “fire and water” streaked across my mind. I shook my head to maintain focus on the song. Again, the phrase “fire and water” streaked across my mind. I shook my head to maintain focus on the song. Again, the phrase “fire and water” intruded. I kept going. The third time, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; when you walk through the fire, you will not be burned” flashed across my mind. Then I heard in my spirit, “You have come through the fire and water. It is finished!” A profound, gentle peace enveloped me. I have not experienced the death and dying feelings again. That pivotal moment enabled me to breathe while continuing my healing journey. 

For me, the “fire” meant experiencing and living through the flashbacks (both scenic and the physical body memories). The “water” meant not drowning in the heart-mental-gut wrenching emotions. Keeping focused on Isaiah 43:2 helped me walk through the emotional, physical and spiritual darkness rising from the past that was hidden from my conscious mind. 

For my healing to occur, I needed to walk through the pain and darkness of the past. In Isaiah 43:2, God does not promise to take us above or around the waters that threaten to overwhelm us. Rather, He assures us of His presence as we walk through the storms of life. And during my storm He kept His promise.

Ecclesiastes 3:3 says: “…and a time to heal…”Fivemajor reasons I believe God waited until I was age forty before revealing the past are: 1. He knew when my mind would be strong enough to look at the trauma. 2. Mature more as an individual. 3. Grow in my faith. 4. Spare my children from growing up in an unsettling home environment. 5. Time for my husband and I to mature in marriage.

God may never speak to me again in such a vivid way, but His message of assurance has proven true. 1 Corinthians 4:5 tells us that “He will bring to light that which is hidden.”John 8 :32 says, “And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” Praise God! 

The Bible is the voice of God. Isaiah 55:11 says when God sends forth His Word, it will not return unto Him empty, but will accomplish what He desires and succeed in its purpose.     

©  Anna Thomas Dumfries, Va.