I woke up on January 1st, 2019 with the tangible remnants of an intense dream upon my spirit and mind. I woke up remembering every single detail of the dream, which usually only happens when the Lord gives me a dream, which He often does. When I have dreams that I remember, I find that they are mostly apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic in nature, and they usually stir up feelings of urgency, purpose, and destiny. I know that Jesus is returning at any moment, and I wish He could come this very moment to free us from this life.
We know that toward the end of the world as we know it, God will give us dreams and visions. “In the last days, God says, ‘I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams'” (Acts 2:17). Now, I’m not an old man, but I do dream dreams. I’ve had dreams of cutting off the devil’s head and fighting in a battle at the end of days. I’ve had dreams where I just see Bible verses and then wake up and study them. I’ve had dreams/visions of speaking in tongues and I’ve awoken with my tongue tingling, which makes absolutely no sense in the physical realm. I’ve had intense moments of prayer where I’ve seen images of the cross on fire. Consuming fire.
So when I get a dream from God, it tends to be so normal for me that I’m not surprised at all. But, my dream during the night on December 31st, 2018 to January 1st, 2019 was so different, so stunning, that I had to immediately write it down on my phone. This was one of the first God-given dreams I’ve had that spoke of new life, not of the end.
To give context to this dream, you should know that I’m unmarried, have no children, and have actually been told it might be difficult to get pregnant because of my endometriosis. I’ve always planned to adopt children whether I could conceive or not, but I must admit that pregnancy actually frightens me because of the possible complications.
The day before this dream was the last Sunday of 2018. I went to church like I usually do and felt a sort of breakthrough in my spiritual life. While praying I felt like God was saying that this whole time I had been pushing the church away, I had actually been pushing Him away from me. We had our moment of reconnecting and I immediately felt God say to me that I was going to be a missionary after all of my “failed” attempts, but that it will look differently than I think it will.
The next night I had this dream.
During the dream, I was in labor with my third child. It appeared that I was in a sort of makeshift hospital on a mission field. I was surrounded by other women who were all in labor. As they rushed me into the delivery room, I began to feel panic and I looked around, hoping to find someone who would listen to my cries. I was scared of having complications, even though this was my third child. When in the delivery room, no one hooked me up to any machine to monitor my vitals and I was terribly afraid of dying of a PE or some other serious complication. I kept yelling for someone to check on me. I had no husband in this dream, or if I did, he wasn’t present. But, I didn’t need him. All of the other new mothers around me gave me enormous amounts of encouragement and they advocated for me. Because the staff in this makeshift hospital were so busy, I actually had to deliver my own baby. I put a brown t-shirt or towel down between my legs and pushed for a little while until this baby came slithering out of me. I immediately wrapped it up and saw that it was a boy, a very light-skinned boy. His skin was a warm golden shade, but so light that he almost glistened. I also noticed that he had a sunken fontanel, which comes from dehydration. I called for someone to come over and help me and my new baby and then I called my mom to tell her the good news.
I have such a close relation to the spiritual realm. I’ve seen demons cast out. I’ve witnessed and participated in divine healing (most of them strangely my own), I’ve heard demons actually speak to me and tell me to go to hell, and I’ve battled with the demons that speak through people I know. Spiritual warfare is not new to me. In fact, I’m so accustomed to it that I forget that some Christians don’t experience much of it, and sometimes I wish I could have that luxury.
So most of my dreams involve me fighting demons, fighting the devil, fighting evil people, fighting for justice, and setting people free. I had never before had such a dream with this promise of sparkling new life. It felt so divine, especially because of the mention of the number three, which signifies the trinity. This dream was foreign to me in every way. I don’t know if the dream has a literal meaning, because I may never get pregnant or have any children, but I know at least on the spiritual level, that God is birthing new life in me.
Naturally, the spiritual warfare increases when God gives such a beautiful, affirming spiritual experience. And so the battle wages on.
Thank You, God, that You birth new life in me. I pray that this new life takes shape in whatever way You see fit for my life.