on sunday, after family time, we started a ritual of blessing each other before going to bed because of the spiritual warfare going on. after that night, if no one blessed me, i wouldn’t ask (which is what we’re supposed to do), and every night i’ve woken up in the middle of the night randomly, which is weird because since NYCUP started, i’ve always slept all night, peacefully. so last night, jack prayed for me, and i had this dream:
i found myself back in high school. not my high school but a high school even though i’ve already graduated. i talked to a younger boy because he didn’t talk and seemed sad. he led me to a bookshelf, took a book from a series, opened to the last page, pointed to a story, and left. the story was about a little boy who died. the connection i got from that was that the little boy who died in the story was haunting the forlorn one. after putting the book back, i prayed for the spirit to leave the little boy alone.
next thing i knew, we were outside in the misty rain due to a fire alarm. as i walked around the playground, i saw my college classmates (specifically this one girl) who weren’t Christians. then i woke up.