the dream

Struisbaai's well-known harbor-wall systematically makes its appearance throughout the somewhat misty, chilly early morning. I see a woman standing on the beach, a long way from me. Her stern, upright, alert demeanor is striking.

In the distance, a few dim female figures appear, all clearly ready and waiting for something. Their heads are raised and their eyes intently focused on something in the distance, perhaps the clouds. Immediately I realize that I am dreaming and find myself in the spiritual realm.

I have to quickly suppress my excitement in an effort not to wake up and lose this revelation.

I suddenly think of one of our other intercessors' dreams. In the very harbour she spotted a shark. My eyes search, slightly distressed, for the shark, the enemy, satan, but I perceive nothing.

My attention is drawn by a long, fluttering dress. The soft material romantically wraps around the beautiful woman but at the same time, I know that she is someone with authority. I focus my attention on her and begin to take in everything around her in wonder. She is dressed in special clothes. I am beginning to realize that all the women are so upright, strong, focused, and ready. They are clearly ready for action.

"Ready for what? Where's the action?" I heard myself ask, and only then did I see that Jesus was walking with me. His eyes are only focused on me. I first allow myself a moment of healing,

love, and

grace,

while I lose myself in the idea that in my dream,

I am walking on the beach with Jesus.

His penetrating love,

a warm wholeness,

intense hope.

Unquenchable gratitude

and faith build me up for however long I let it.

"They are ready for war", He answered me.

My thoughts: I really don't like war and I would rather stay in our romantic walks in the field and here by the sea, run away with me.

He answers me with such compassion and reassuring ease, and I realize that He knows my thoughts.

My amazement at the perfect relationship between us continues to grow.

"That's because you think about ordinary warfare. Our battle is not against flesh and blood but against the forces of evil. You don't have to wage war against the people around you. I love those flesh and blood people, so much that I died for them all and bore their punishment."

The peace that will surpass all understanding lies gently in my heart and suddenly I know for sure:

That God is love,

that all His actions bear witness to it and

that I am only now beginning to know its intensity.

In the meantime, the shark has made its appearance, it's already swimming up and down the harbour wall.

This reinforces the knowledge that war is definitely inevitable.

My eyes fall on a woman who is suddenly very close to me. I can see everything in detail and I realize that I am witnessing the full armor of God.

I revel timelessly in the breathtaking, perfect image.

The realization that God is coming to clothe us fully, complete us all, and He is enabling us to fight, overwhelms me.

The image is mesmerizing but I realize that this is not the normal armor I have seen on sketches. The clothes do not place the woman in a restrictive box at all, on the contrary,

it separates her as someone of stature with authority, power, and strength.

The unique armor makes her stand out complete, perfect, and ready for the front lines of this war.

One of her ribbons around her head braided through her hair, flutters against me.

The detail, colour, and perfection of the helmet on her head teased me.

I dwell on her femininity and how her hair blows in the wind and plays with the braids of her ribbon helmet.

I notice that the various ribbons are filled with stories. On one of the ribbons, I follow the story: of rejection, humiliation, pain, and loneliness, as in a film playing out in front of me.

However, I notice that the story disappears in a deep red colour, never to be seen again.

One of the other ribbons has words on it and another scripture from the word of God. I recognize some of the scriptures and I realize that Jesus' blood on the cross redeemed the woman from so many different traditions, flaws, and shortcomings.

Her helmet not only places her in a redeemed state, free from the past and healed of pain, but also in a continuous deliverance from earthly carnal limitations and fetters, which effortlessly fall from her.

My head slowly turns to Jesus and my heart fills with admiration and gratitude for His all-encompassing salvation that He bought with His own life for us, for me. I only manage to get a faint:

"Thank you, thank you very much,”

out in a whisper.

At which I see His head nodding. His answer charms me all over again:

"You are worth it!"

I realize that the transparent helmet renews the woman's thinking as she chooses to subordinate it to God.

This living-crown-helmet is not stagnant but subject to the woman's choice to submit her thinking to God.

My inner self murmurs softly, that I also want to think like that.

"It's easy My love, just choose to think what is beautiful, and sincere, and uplifting and

think of others, what you now know I think of you."

It sounds difficult.

"Ask Me, every time you doubt, struggle, or stumble. I am the enabling Holy Spirit in you."

We walk on and the glowing, illuminated woman catches my eyes.

She wears flames for her breastplate with such ease as if it were made just for her.

Surprised I ask; "Why flames?"

I know that the breastplate is our righteousness in Christ Jesus.

I suddenly realize that not I or any of us, at any given moment of the day, will ever really be holy or upright enough to be able to appear before God our Father.

My mind races with a multitude of revelations, and I try to keep up.

The flames then represent the ongoing justification that has already been done in full on the cross, moment,

by moment

in our lives.

The breastplate protects our heart which refers to our life, and without being constantly in relationship with God we expose the origin of our life, our heart, and our righteousness.

It's so illuminating and I now understand why I don't want to be separated from Him for even one moment.

I live in a relationship with Him, He in me, I in Him.

I walk for a while; on the leveled road to God the Father, in appreciation for Jesus' perfect sacrifice on the cross.

I can now, like a daughter sitting on her Father's lap, sit on my Heavenly Father's lap in anticipation and wonder of Him, my Hero, His wisdom and omnipotence.

Just as I rest my head on my husband's shoulder, I can rest my head on the shoulder of Jesus,

the love of my heart, and enjoy the unity and camaraderie between us.

I wanted to stay longer but His justification overwhelms me and my mind begins to race.

I can't keep up, the thoughts are bigger than I can ever imagine.

Another woman's belt around her hips catches my eyes and I begin to think about its strength.

The braided strong ropes were adorned with beautiful, precious jewels. It was clear that the belt of truth is strong enough to be able to do what it has to, but also that it may bear witness to precious experiences.

I now see, that as with the helmet, certain words are written on one of the ropes of the belt. These were familiar words yet shocking because I knew for sure that this was not the truth the woman identified with.

I'm stupid,

I'm short,

I'm fat,

I'm inadequate,

I'm not good enough.

I then notice how the other ropes in the belt begin to change the words and turn the lies about herself, her abilities, her future and her final destination into truths from God's word.

I am a child of God,

I am the crown of His creation,

created in His image

capable of all things,

I am light,

I am love,

I am more than a conqueror,

are some declarations. My spirit was so amazed that I started wondering about my own belt.

The experience of my first walk with God, and the phenomenal healing that was done by Him in me,

washes over my body, and gratitude starts pouring out of me anew.

The loving words of Jesus softly lead me back to our walk on the seashore.

"Maggie, if you live anything other than the truth,

you make me small,

if it is not written about who you are, in the Word,

it is not true".

I suddenly realize that nowhere in the word does it say that God's children are not enough,

even when we are weak, He is strong within us.

I feel the victory growing in me and see clearly that it is the devil that comes like a thief in the night to steal,

slaughter, and destroy, and that Jesus comes to give us life in abundance.

Somewhere there is a woman struggling to keep her skirt up and it helps me understand that when the belt doesn't do what it should do, your skirt falls to the ground and you are a mockery to the world.

Because you no longer have anything to maintain your dignity.

I realize how great a gift we have received with our adoption into His family, our new identity, the only truth.

I realize that we are constantly protected from the condemnation of the devil.

My wonder overflows into gratitude and I feel my heart grow and glow in righteousness.

I move on and notice a few women's shields and swords almost simultaneously.

It is worth noticing that some women's shields and swords differ in proportion. There are some with small shields but rather large swords and vice versa.

"Why do they differ in size so much?" I hear myself asking.

"When you go to church, read the Bible and can quote a verse or two,

it does not necessarily mean that you start taking action in faith based on your trust in Me."

For a moment I feel condemned.

Suddenly I desire to possess a large prominent shield of faith but wonder if it will ever be granted to me.

At that particular moment, an almost supernatural event caught my attention.

One of the prominent women drops militaristically to her knees in one movement.

With her head bowed and her sword stuck in the ground, she begins to pray and it's as if the atmosphere at the harbour changes noticeably.

By this time, many other women followed her example and without fail praised and worshiped God.

The noise of the rushing water in the harbour attracts my attention and I witness the confusion and disappearance of the shark from the harbour's waters.

The effective power of prayer becomes tangible to me.

Meanwhile, the woman with the small shield of faith begins to grow as she and other women continue to focus on God's character in prayer.

It is breathtaking to witness the enriching effect of the prayers.

Faith comes by hearing the word of God.

This verse pops up in my mind and I realize why I saw the sword of the word and shield of faith so simultaneously.

The reflection of a sunbeam from one woman's sword almost blinds me.

I approach in enchantment, the jewels and grandeur commanding palpable respect and esteem from me.

Suddenly my eyes catch a clock just under the woman's well-trained hand.

"Why a clock?" The question escapes my mind again.

"This testifies to the time the woman spends in the Word.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

The words cut through me almost like a sword, wounded and filled with deep remorse, my story plays out in my mind. I had known the Word and the Truth but was led astray by my immaturity and I tried for years in my own strength just to survive.

I felt that it was inevitable to serve my other gods as well.

I served my own skills and prestige.

I earned money.

I served my body, food, and diet.

I sought my salvation and solutions through medication,

my husband,

and my work.

The enemy came to steal my time, took the life out of me, and destroyed my relationships;

and this after I had already known God's grace.

I spent no time in the Word.

I see how my watch had stopped and feel so guilty and regretful about my choices to want to handle everything on my own.

Now it was shown to me, how Father, during this time living outside of His word,

sat and waited for me every morning.

I see Him from behind, like in a movie, first on a rock in the field waiting and later on the beach as He sits hopefully looking out over the sea.

.

.

.

I suddenly know that every day, full of expectation, He has been waiting especially for me.

He wanted to share things with me.

He wanted to solve problems for me.

He wanted to make my heart whole for me,

and share mysteries with me.

I see how He walks away a little sad at the end of each day only to sit and wait for me tomorrow full of excitement and longing for me.

I feel my insides breaking, I can't hold it in anymore. I turn to Jesus and cry.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

I feel broken all over again.

I'm crying so loud now that I wonder for a moment if it will be possible to cry yourself awake in a dream.

His hand is now almost real on my shoulder and He calms me down as I am healed in His precious Words.

"It's ok, it's over now, you're here now and I still have so many beautiful things to share with you.

There are still many precious hidden messages and times together."

I feel almost even smaller but surprisingly relieved when I know

that He is not even angry with me,

that Jesus paid for it,

that everything is now restored,

that I am so special and precious to Him,

that He is always ready and waiting for me to spend time with Him,

and that I received it all so undeservedly.

This consumes me.

The women now pray together, help and encourage each other with their sword words and their well-practiced shield of faith begins to fend off the attacks of the enemy.

I've almost gone through the full spectrum of emotion by now.

I still feel an overwhelming need to be trained, focused, and armed to tell everyone the message of peace. However, I noticed that there are quite a few women who are still barefoot.

Gratefully, I store the preciousness of my dream, almost consciously in my mind. The value of having learned the armor from your head to your tows is now clear.

I myself must first be redeemed,

think anew and

be entitled to a constant relationship with Father.

Furthermore, I must have word-knowledge

and faith in the power of God

before I am ready to bring the message of His peace to others.

The women with shoes on, some sneakers, and others with well-worn-in walking shoes, drop back to their knees and pray while others help the barefoot women put on their new shoes.

An unprecedented excitement begins to build up in me. The whole world needs to hear the good news.

Suddenly my mind goes to my husband and I ask almost audibly again:

"Where are the men, Father?"

Instantaneously all the women on the beach stand strong and ready while the most powerful cords of love shoot out from their hips and the men all approach.

I marvel at the cords and know for sure that they are unbreakable, elastic cords that cannot be broken

by any forces,

or depth,

or height.

I realize that my armor extends by the cords of love

and prayer, and feel honored to serve in the persuasions of power.

The men are strange in a way, that some of them are distracted, some have their helmets askew, some are playfully fighting each other, and others look comical with small swords and shields. Another struggles to keep his pants up and others stand and laugh at him.

Before I think to judge their appearance, one woman kneels beside her husband, begins to pray for him, and starts treating him as if he were the king, priest, and prophet of his family. The man in question clearly did not deserve to be honoured as the head of his house. I almost sheepishly look at Jesus in search of an explanation for this.

"When unconditional love forces you to treat others as if they are already as God sees them, that's when change follows."

That's exactly what Jesus did for me when we first met!

Grateful reverence flows from within me to Him and He smiles.

I then watch as the man's shield suddenly grows so large that his entire family can sit in its protection. The children are cheerful and safe.

I lie pampered and empowered on my bed and try in vain to climb back into the dream. It's over now. I am different now. I think differently, see differently, understand differently, and do differently.

"Thank you" sounds so small and His Spirit encourages me with the last loving thought.

" The war is not over yet, it's already won, but fight with me."

Later, the Holy Spirit ministered to me further from the dream, confirming that it is necessary for men to stand up in their masculinity and act as kings, priests, and, prophets. It is important to teach our children about their God-image and their identity, to teach them the armour, and to encourage them to pray. The enemy would love to break up families but God has already achieved the victory.

May you be blessed, and bless God with your gratitude.

Author: Magda Frylinck