A few weeks back I had an interesting dream
I was surrounded by darkness and demons. A way of escape appeared and I ran hearing them speaking of leting me go, because a battle was coming that they would surely win, and then I would never be free.
I was then in a brightly lit room with 15-20 others. They seemed to be spiritual leaders, and there was much discussion of this coming battle; different ways the enemy might attack, and arguments about different plans of defense. Somehow I could feel with my soul that the enemy was gathering a very large army. I could feel them, broken into rank and file, preparing strategically for the battle. And we were arguing strategy instead of preparing.
Anxiously I left the room, walking through a doorway into a dark room. All of the lights were turned off and in a chair corner was Dennis.
His head was bent in prayer, and I felt with my soul that he was prepared, and actively preparing for what was coming. All alone in a dark room, with the leaders and respected persons right next door in bright light, he sat with eyes closed, communing with Holy Spirit.
Suddenly beside me was a small demonic creature with weapon in hand. I struck at it, but turning I could not see it. What followed is strange to describe, every time I tried to look, I saw NOTHING, and would be struck. But when I did NOT try to see with my eyes, I saw, and could respond. All the while Dennis sat in the corner with head bent, and heart fully connected to Jesus.
Waking I realized that when I tried to see with my eyes I was disorientated and attacked, but when I “looked” with my soul, I saw and responded. I was being trained to see with my spiritual eyes because of a man who had himself prepared his soul in the place of communion with God. That morning I walked into the coffee shop and there was Dennis behind the counter working, but I could feel that his soul was prepared.
I have become suddenly incredibly thankful for those who have forged a path of intimacy with Jesus in dark rooms. Who have loved Him only for the love of Him. At IHOP we have language from dreams and prophetic promises about a “nameless & faceless generation” who will walk in the Spirit of God, carry Intercession as a torch and usher in a great revival, and I believe it.
But I know that I am walking on a path that has been beaten with rusty knifes and broken shovels, a road that was forged with much difficulty by so many men and women who’s names I will never know on this side of eternity. But I see Dennis, and I love him for the battles that he fought in secret to gain ground in his own life, so that I could get up and run.