Similar to lucid dreaming wherein a person is aware they’re in a dream, can consciously make decisions, or choose responses to events, I also experience lucid slumber. In my recent lucid slumber, there were no dreams, images, impressions, or thoughts, except I knew I was asleep, and I was also aware of the Lord’s presence.
“By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me—a prayer to the God of my life.”—Psalm 42:8
It hadn’t always been the Lord in these dreamless pockets, but it’s always him now. And as I soaked in his company, I heard him say, a gentle reminder, “I will never leave you nor forsake you…”
Then I had a dream. I could see eleven missiles launch from a vertical launching system closer than imagined. I could hear the hostile sound of them as they ripped through the air, an ungodly whistle. Fast and furious, they left no time to react. These missiles landed before detonating and didn’t explode upon impact, but were set to within seconds. The missiles landed around me, one even landed almost underneath me, and I nearly tripped over it; in fact, my belly touched its surface, but I recoiled and remained unharmed. I heard instructions from heaven, “Get up and run toward the people.” I then saw that there were crowds of people who were playing outdoor ping-pong, oblivious, laughing and joking as if explosions weren’t beginning to erupt. I ran through the crowds, heralding, “Wake up and take cover; take cover in the Lord! Wake up! Wake up and take cover; take cover in the Lord!”
“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge. His truth is your shield and armor.”—Psalm 91:4
The dream over, I again lingered in lucid slumber, listening to the Lord’s gentle voice again say, “I will never leave you nor forsake you…”
My eyes opened. It was still night. I lingered over the last words spoken. Found in several places in the Bible, they were first given as a promise to Joshua (Deuteronomy 31:6), when Moses passed the torch of responsibility to him to lead the people into the Promised Land. I dwelled on that because I have a heart for people, a heart for God’s promises, and a heart for ministry. I do what I can from where I am, and have served in several types of outreaches in years past. But I know God has something different intended from what I’ve ever seen or done before in terms of revival and sharing God’s redeeming love and hope, and his word, his truth. I also know that I won’t be alone in this outreach. We all need a tribe, a spiritual family, so to speak. A team who gets us, and we get them. Doesn’t have to be large—could be, but doesn’t have to be. We just need fellowship, encouragement, and a joining of hands—a team of likeminded, spirit-filled players. This is something I yearn for, yet is one of the promises I’m waiting on. I have always had a soul-tie with my biological sister. Like the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David. I am to my sister as she is to me. And, gratefully, I don’t know what I’d do without her. But the Lord has shown me there are others with whom he intends to align me. Although I have yet to meet them, I have prayed for them. I started praying in the Spirit for them at that moment, and I saw a vision:
On the deck of a ship, there were four or five piles of ropes. Thick, strong ropes—mooring lines, I suppose—but they were all tangled. The end of each rope whipped heavenward until the entire length of each rope snapped into a straight, taut line. Then the ropes returned to the deck and meticulously coiled into individual, tidy piles; each pile of rope lined up next to the other in the same row. I knew these represented the lives of people, a certain team. The Lord worked out the kinks in each life until they, like the ropes, were prepared or set, ready to be used effectively. This verse he then gave me, loud and clear; not a jolt, rather a warm covering: “And God has made all things new, and reconciled us to himself, and given us the ministry of reconciling others to God. (2 Corinthians 5:18 TPT)
I’ve dreamed of ships a lot in my life. In years past, they were never good dreams; they were nightmares. I used to dream of ships going down, and I was trapped, filled with fear and dreaded doom. Now I dream of a ship sailing steadfast, precise, slicing through the water (I can hear the sound it makes, and I smell the sea), propelled by the winds of the Holy Spirit, guided by the giant hand of God. The ship looks like a mere toy in God’s hand, but he cares for the vessel with such attention, such value. And I am unafraid, in fact, I’m filled with joy.
My future is this. It might not materialize like this or how I think, but this is what the Lord has in store: guided by his hand with utmost care, purpose, joy, fellowship, and I trust him; I’m unafraid. This is also the future, metaphorically speaking, of many of you who are reading this. Dare to hope. Do not lose heart. We don’t need to worry about how the whole caboodle, whatever your caboodle might be, is going to come together. The Lord will take care of that—all of it. If he’s shown you something; if he’s promised you something, whatever it is, simple or outrageous and more, it will be.
Content in visionary prayer, I fell back asleep and had another dream. I was in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown, propped up. I was healthy and whole and simply waiting for the administration to discharge me. There was another bed right beside mine that was empty of a patient, and already made up tight and tidy. In fact, like the ship lines, there were four or five beds like this in a row. Except a person reclined very relaxed on top of the one right next to mine, propped on an elbow, wearing street clothes and a peaceful smile, patiently waiting. This individual, part of my spiritual family, held a key to my future. A lady from administration came into the room brightly and said, “Okay, Tessa,” and she clapped her hands once; the sharp clap shook the four walls. “You’re free to go!” The key holder hopped up at that moment and took my hand to lead me out. I remember thinking, had it not been for the Lord’s disclosure during the night season, I wouldn’t have known they were real, or the appointed future was real. Words of knowledge had given me seeds of great hope and expectancy.
Your spiritual journey and gifting might look different from mine, or maybe there’s a resemblance or even a connection. Whichever way, if we but seek Jesus, yielding our lives to him, the Lord will be gracious and give us favor and protection, and he will guide us.
“So be strong and courageous, all you who put your hope in the LORD!”—Psalm 31:24
*** The Lord had asked me to share what he gives me this week in dreams, visions, intercession, and just soaking-in-the-Spirit time, so I do this in obedience and trust. Shalom shalom ***