Do not look for deliverance as though it were a single stroke that fells the enemy once for all. These wounds of the soul are not like bodily sores that a physician might heal with a salve and send you home. They are the wounds of the passions, the defilement of the inner man. When you sleep and find yourself seized as by force, ask yourself: what thoughts did I entertain while awake? What images did I welcome, what fantasies did I court with my mind? The soul that plays the harlot during the day by giving entrance to unchaste imaginations will find those same adulterers haunting her at night. For when sleep overtakes us, the chamber of the heart is left unguarded, and the images we have stored up come forth to torment us. So the dream is not a thing from outside that assaults an innocent soul; it is the fruit of a soul that has already been bargaining with sin in her thoughts.
The treatment then is not a ceremony of deliverance only, nor a prayer spoken once, but the lifelong labor of mortifying your members upon the earth. What did the Apostle command? “Mortify fornication, uncleanness, passion, evil desire.” He did not say restrain them, but put them to death. That which is dead, we put away without pain; if I cut into a dead thing, I feel nothing. But if I cut into what is living, it cries out. So it is with these passions. As long as they are alive in you, the cutting hurts. The dream that feels like rape is the cry of the soul that still has life in those desires, and the sword of the Spirit is piercing them. Do not flee the pain; endure it as a healing wound. The very fact that you wake in agony is a sign that the medicine is working, for the soul is pained and on fire, not the body. That suffering belongs to the soul alone, and it is a suffering that can cleanse if you do not shrink back.
You say you have prayed and gone through deliverance, yet the struggle remains. Have you truly made the soul unfruitful for the enemy? When a virgin daughter is in the house, you lock the doors, you keep watch, you suffer no one drape a lustful glance upon her. Your soul is more precious than any daughter, yet you let innumerable wicked thoughts come in and defile her. The love of luxury, the image of a fair face, the remembrance of past sins, these are the adulterers that visit her. You throw open the doors yourself by gazing, remembering, imagining. Then night reveals the guests you have seated at her table. God permits this not as a cruelty but as a sparing mercy. He who spares his child ruins it; he who spares it not preserves it. These ### months of torment are a severe grace, a rod applied to deliver your soul from death. The dream that seems like rape is the shock needed to rouse you to war.
Therefore, do not seek first to be delivered from the dream; seek to be delivered from the thoughts that feed it. Fast, not only from food but from the wandering eye and the idle recollection. When the evil image springs up in your mind by day, cut it off instantly; do not parley with it. Christ himself said, “If your right eye causes you to stumble, tear it out.” The right eye is the darling thought, the seemingly small indulgence. Tear it out, which is to say, mortify it. Let nothing remain alive that can rise against your soul. For the flesh is not evil of its own nature, but when it passes its proper bounds and rises against the soul, then it corrupts everything. Keep it under, and it will serve you; give it liberty, and it will destroy you.
And do not grow faint with the length of the trial. You may think that because you have struggled so long, you are worse off than those who seem free. But it is often the soul that is being purified like gold in the furnace that suffers the fiercest heat. The grace of baptism already recast your soul and made it shine brighter than the sun, but the dross of habitual sin must be burned away again and again by temptation resisted. Did not Christ Himself cry out, “Now is My soul troubled”? He who had no sin felt the agony of the approaching hour, yet for the profit of our salvation He did not draw back. So your troubled soul, enduring this violence in the flesh of your dreams, learns to despise the very pleasures it once craved. The discomfort is not a sign of God’s absence but of His intimate surgery.
Be neither a woman in weakness, giving way to despair. For to be given over to the passions is a disease of the soul, an inferiority. The blow that comes to you in sleep falls on the soul, not on the body; it is you who sustain the greater damage if you consent to the memory or the shame. But you, dress your soul with the judicial robe of gentleness and patience. Stand firm, and the enemy will fear you more than you fear him. Do not count up the days and say, “### months and no relief.” The race of the soul requires a soul thoroughly awakened, and the soul is strengthened, not weakened, by long endurance. Old sins, old wounds, old scars, do not let them speak of defeat. Let the gray hairs of your struggle become a crown, for in this contest the veteran often runs more vigorously than the youth.
Rise up, then, from this despondency. When you wake at that hour and feel the defilement, do not lie in the bed of the wound, but rise and cry out to God with tears, and then go about your duties with a resolve to guard every sense. Do not imagine that sin is a thing done only with the body; the soul can commit adultery in the bed of the mind. Let the day be so filled with the remembrance of God and with sober employment that the night finds your soul a sealed garden. And if the dream returns, say to yourself: “This is not me; it is the dead man stirring, and I will bury him again.” For His grace touches the very soul and plucks up sin by the root. Only persevere, and you will find that what felt like a violation becomes the door through which a deeper purity enters, a purity you could never have known had you not been so fiercely tried.