Dear friends,
I am still somewhat in a state of diffidence regarding whether I ought to share this story. It is, in fact, an ongoing story, and I don't have all the answers. I don't want to give the forces of evil more attention than they ought to have, but I also realise that this story could serve as an encouragement to many who, perhaps, have dealt with a similar situation and still struggle with fear and a doubt of God's goodness as a result.
I pray that this story serves to bless and encourage you, and strengthen you for the fight, however that may manifest in your life. If something like this is only going to increase fear of the demonic or stoke an unhealthy curiosity in the spiritual realm, then this post is not for you, and I would advise moving along. I am going to share my brief and rather routine, at this point, brush with those things on the other side of the veil.
It began when I was eighteen and off in Indianapolis for college orientation with a little Christian organisation where I met several lifetime friends. I was taking a quick nap one afternoon and I began to have a very vivid dream. In a conversation with one of the staff members in the organisation, the dream suddenly took on a very eerie shade and the staff member was no longer standing across from me, but had slid across the room and was simultaneously hissing in my ear: "Say yes, say yes" was what he said, while simultaneously a heavy weight was pressed against my chest. The staff member was gone, and in his place were dark shadows pressing in around me, with the weight bearing down, and still that hissing voice in my ear urging me to just say yes.
I had no idea what was going on, nor had a parameter to explain to myself what was happening. I knew three things in that moment. One was that I was aware that I was dreaming and exactly where I was, flopped over the bed in my dorm room. The second was that whatever was happening to me would stop if I could only get myself to wake up which suddenly seemed very difficult. The third was that whatever this voice was pressing me to consent to, it was imperative that I not agree.
I struggled and finally awoke with what I thought was a scream, but once I had woken, I realised that the only audible sound I had actually made was a gasp. The scream had been completely silent. During that moment I had had nearly no agency over my body. It was terrifying and I tried to forget it as quickly as possible.
The problem was that something similar happened again when I got home. It was night this time. The shadowy figures just within my peripheral vision, the heavy weight on my chest, the pressure to just give in. It was slightly different. It began with a fall from a great height and a sudden silent crash into blackness. I was again fully lucid but unable to wake myself up or move or make a sound. I had no idea that such a thing called "sleep paralysis" existed at this stage. All I knew was that something that felt incredibly evil was with me in that moment, and I needed to not agree to whatever it was it wanted me to agree to. This time, though I couldn't get an audible word out, I called on the name of Christ in my head, and instantly the pressure vanished and I woke up, sitting straight up in my bed, gasping for air. My sisters were still asleep. All was silent. Once again, I thought I had screamed, but there had been no sound.
On this occasion I was too scared to go back to sleep for a while. I prayed, read my Bible, and begged God not to ever let something like that happen again.
God comforted me in that moment with his word, and a very real sense of His presence, as though he were wrapping his arms around me and giving me a hug, but his answer to my prayer was "no."
This situation repeated itself over and over, but always dissipated when I called on the name of Jesus Christ. This alerted me to two facts even without knowing what was happening or whether anyone else had experienced the same thing. One fact was that whatever it was, it feared and/or obeyed the name of Christ, and the second was that regardless of how terrifying it all felt, God was protecting me the entire time. He was in complete control.
With this knowledge I learned to recognise the beginning signs of these "attacks" as I'll call them, and to call on Christ sooner. I also noticed that the attacks often lined up with visiting certain places which, gave me bad feelings when I was there, or people who gave the distinct impression that they were antagonistic to Christ. It wasn't always the case, but I still wonder if there was a connection. Either way, I don't want to put too much stock in it. It isn't my place to know for sure about other people's relationship with the Lord. My job is to be a good witness for Christ, pray for the people whose lives intersect mine and leave the rest up to the Lord. I have tried to use these connections as an opportunity to pray for the people or organisations after or during which I experienced these attacks.
I believe it was close to five years after the first attack when I read St. Patrick's confession and his account of being assaulted by the devil. Here is what he says:
"...On that same night I lay
Sleeping, when Satan sorely troubled me,
As well I shall remember, for as long
As in this mortal body I shall be.
He fell upon me, as a mighty mass
Of rock might fall, so that in all my limbs
Remained not but so much of power as brought
Into my mind the thought to cry, "Helias."
With which word in my mouth, I saw the sun
Rise in the heavens; and while I cried, "Helias,"
With all my might, its radiance fell on me,
And banished all my torpor: and I think
'Twas Christ, my Lord, who gave my cry for help,
And sent His succour."
If you are noticing the similarities between this account and what I just described happening to me, well done, so did I, the moment I read it. It floored me. Here was an ancient Christian Saint who had described word for word nearly exactly what I had experienced, and while his means of banishment was slightly different, his attribution as to Who aided him was the same. I now, at least, had parameters for what I had experienced.
I could now call it a spiritual assault, though it was slightly different than what I had grown up believing a spiritual assault was. Certainly a little more up-close and personal.
My most dramatic incident happened when I was twenty-four, and just newly moved to Scotland for my Masters studies at the University of Aberdeen. About three weeks to a month after I arrived....I failed to record the exact date...I came down with a cold, had some trouble sleeping, and, one night, moved from my bedroom to the living room couch in order to try and sleep in a more upright position which helped with the congestion. I could feel a fever rising steadily, and didn't really feel any better, but, in spite of this, I fell into a fitful slumber. The dream I had is slightly embarrassing to recount(I didn't do anything wrong in it, but it included personal details that are irrelevant) and so I shan't detail it here. Suffice it to say, it was in which someone suggested he help with a situation I was wrestling with at the time, and gave me a solution which, through, I think, a grace of God, I was hesitant to accept. Even at that point, while I was fully dreaming, I felt something was off...I refused his solution, and it was as though a light bulb had snapped out. The dream vanished. The man in the dream who had been trying to persuade me suddenly morphed from an appealing, bright being of human appearance, to a great, black, shadow creature which lowered in the corner of the living room. I was lying on the couch, completely stuck, unable to move or breathe. I could feel the being's gaze upon me, its weight on my chest, hating me with all that was in it. I have never felt so malicious and hateful a gaze as I did in that moment, from that being. No human has ever come close to looking at me that way.
It was as though if it had its way it would fly upon me and rip me to shreds.
It felt as though it lasted for ten minutes, though it was probably no more than a single moment in time. I, lying there fully lucid on the couch, unable to move or breath, with that horrible black shadow crouching there in the corner of the living room holding me with it's malignant gaze. I could feel the shadowy blackness reaching out little wispy tentacles towards me, once again trying to convince me to consent, but it was no longer masked as pleasant urging. The hissing voice was heavy with malice and contempt. It wanted me to say yes so it could grind me to dust...at least that's what it felt like in that moment.
That was when I recollected myself and what was going on and sent up an urgent silent prayer to the Lord which was immediately answered with instant relief. The shadows whisked away, and I was able to breathe, move, and sit up.
These situations had stopped scaring me as much, but this one really rocked me. It almost felt like my dream had first been invaded, my secret desires had been manipulated, and that I had been attacked during a point of physical weakness, as though it would all make me more vulnerable. It really frightened me, and I think I had the lamp on for the next hour, reading the Psalms and talking to the Lord, hoping that my poor flatmate wouldn't be wakened by all my scrambling about. This time the silent screaming thing really worked in my and her favour as I didn't actually make a lot of noise. I think she slept right though it, and I don't recall whether I ever told her about any of this.
That same night I fell asleep again, after some serious prayer, and with the knowledge that things like this had never happened more than once in a single night, and had the most beautiful vision/dream/imagining that I was sleeping on a bed in the middle of a beautiful meadow surrounded by mountains, and that soldiers in knightly armour with spears and swords stood all around my bed, guarding me while I slept. It is interesting to note that my fever had broken upon waking from the attack, and in the morning the cold was almost completely gone.
Another instance of note happened more recently, after marriage. I believe it was about a couple months after the wedding, perhaps longer...once again, I didn't record it, but it began as a dream that I was at some high society function, minding my own business. I began to approach a circle of people, and had a bad feeling about one of the people in that circle who had his back to me. It was almost exactly the same moment that I noticed that something was off with him, that his head did an instant 180 and I had this vague, shadowy face locked on mine, glaring at me with that same heavy malignant hatred that I had felt back in Scotland. This time I knew exactly what was happening and turned around to run, felt myself lying on my bed and knew I had to wake because he was coming after me. It was a moment of panic, lying on the bed, unable to move or breathe, mentally crying out to the Lord. I head the bedroom door creak open and I knew it was entering, I heard its steps approach the bed, and then I woke. Mind, I had been crying out to the Lord this whole time, and it was a matter of seconds but they had been very slow seconds, and it felt as though the Lord had delayed a bit. I trust His timing, even then, I knew that I had not been in actual danger because I trusted then as I do now that he will always protect me, but knowing that didn't make the experience less unpleasant. I tried to not to cry and wake my husband, but when I closed my eyes again, it was as though I was just opening them in another dimension in the same room and place where the shadowy being was waiting for me, standing right by the bed near my head.
That was when I sat bolt upright and dashed the sleep from my eyes. It was like it had hijacked my sleep. It was about four or so in the morning...my husband woke, saw me in distress, tried to comfort me and encourage me to go back to sleep because he would be there to protect me, which was very sweet, but all I could articulate to him at the time was that I couldn't go back to sleep because it was waiting for me in my dream. At that point we decamped to the couch and I had to explain what "it" was.
That was the most recent severe instance I had. There have been more recent milder instances, but, like I said, generally, I can feel things coming on and start praying myself awake before they get started.
In summation, do I know entirely what's going on, or why? No.
Do I understand why God has allowed these attacks to continue? No.
Here's what I do know, though. The name of Christ has so much power that even just praying it in my head sends the forces of evil packing. Even praying it in my end sends Christ or His angels, or both, to my immediate rescue. And, even if He does delay a little longer than I would prefer(Which has happened a few times), never am I helpless. Never am I alone. Never is Christ not there to save me.
When Jesus told Peter that the Gates of Hell would not prevail against His church, it is easy to think of hell assaulting the church, but this is not the case. Notice we are talking about gates here. We, as the church are assaulting hell, at its very gates, and hell cannot withstand the onslaught...sometimes there are casualties in the assault, though none as permanent as in an earthly battle. Christ will resurrect all His slain. I view these little skirmishes on my sleep and peace as nothing more than that...skirmishes. I have only to call out for backup and the vermin of hell scurries back in a fright to wherever it came from. This is victory, this is triumph. It puzzles and frustrates me that, even knowing this, I often willingly go over to the enemy side and voluntarily help in its losing battle when I sin. Why would I, knowing the vulnerability and utter subservience of evil, do such things over and over? Why would any of us who have tasted of the power and goodness of the Lord willingly submit ourselves to the evil malice of one who, but for the grace of God would eagerly and remorselessly rip us to pieces?
All this to say, friends, as we approach Halloween, the high holy day of the servants of darkness, do not fear it, do not be dismayed, do not let them hold anything over your head. Christ is the victor! He has conquered! Pray for their souls, but do not fear them and do not let their darkness daunt you. They are losing. The gates of hell will not prevail against the church of God!
All glory be to Christ!
~ Christianna
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