You have been troubled in the night, and the dreams have come again, pictures of grasping hands, mouths that devour what God has given you, and a sense of being watched by eyes you cannot see. It is a wearying thing, this torment of sleep, and I do not wonder that your spirit cries out for a deliverer. But dear heart, listen to this: the Lord who neither slumbers nor sleeps has been watching over you all the while. The enemy may shoot his arrows in the dark, but the shield of your God is broader than the broadest shadow. He has not left you to these prowling spirits. You belong to the kingdom of light, and the darkness has no claim on you.
When the enemy sends a dream to gnaw at your peace, remember who it is that interprets dreams. It was our Lord Jesus who shut the lions’ mouths for Daniel and turned the night-visions of the patriarchs into ladders of angels. These troubling messengers are not from Him. He does not come to steal and to eat, but to give life, and to give it more abundantly. The key has already turned in the lock of the dungeon where these fears hold you. Christ has snapped the bolt, and though old Giant Despair may roar, he cannot keep you captive. You are going free. And hear this as well: when the Lord breaks a chain, He does not leave you empty-handed. He loads you with blessings, heaped up, pressed down, running over, from His own flock, His own winepress. The season you are entering is not bare survival; it is favor. The dreams will lose their teeth, the watching eyes will blink and fade, because the eye of the Lord is upon you, and the light of His countenance scatters every shadow.
I want you to picture a great ship in deep water. The anchors are down, but the tide is rising, and soon she will ride high above the rocks. Your faith may feel like a mere rope-end today, but it is fastened to the immovable rock of Christ. The enemy wants you to think God has forsaken you, that these repeated arrows mean you are unprotected. But that is the oldest lie in the serpent’s quiver. The truth is, the Lord is nearer now than when you first believed. He is teaching your hands to war and your fingers to fight, and the very persistence of your prayers shows that His Spirit is fanning the flame within you. You are not weak when you are driven to your knees; you are strongest there.
Do not judge your tomorrow by the fog of this morning. The sun rises, little by little, until the full day floods the windows. So your deliverance may dawn in shy glimmers, but it is coming. Go to the well of the Word, and drink the promises that fit your case. There is water enough there to drown the memory of every foul dream. And when the night comes again, if dreams should return, do not give them the tongue of unbelief. Say to your soul, “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.” He has not given you over to the pit. He has ransomed you, and He will finish what He began.
Now, let us bow together.
Our blessed Lord Jesus, we come to You in the thick of the fight, and we ask You to stretch out Your hand and still these troubling spirits. You who commanded the wind and the waves, speak peace to this beloved heart. Break the cycle of devouring dreams, and let Your own sweet peace garrison the hours of sleep. Load this dear soul with tokens of Your favor, and strengthen the knees that are weak, the hands that hang down. Give courage to keep praying, to keep believing, to keep looking to the cross where every enemy was disarmed. We say with full hearts, “Amen, so let it be, for Your great name’s sake.” Amen.