True Story

This is the rosary that hangs on my bedpost. My mother sent it to me per my request when I found out my uncle, who is a priest in Thailand, would be visiting her. He is getting up there in age and I wanted something, anything, blessed by him before his call home. She chose a rosary, had it blessed by him during his visit and then sent it to me. It stayed wrapped up in a velvet bag, nestled in a box in my nightstand drawer for many years. It wasn't until roughly six or seven years ago that I took it out of the drawer and hung it on my bedpost for a very good reason. A much needed reason. I'll tell you why in a minute, but first a bit of back story:

When I was ten years old, I discovered that I can control portions of my dreams. This little trick comes in handy from time to time. I can get out of nasty dream situations - being chased, showing up to school naked - once I realize I'm dreaming. I just decide what I'd rather being doing in my dream and, *poof* I'm doing it. Neat, huh?

Many years ago, I had a negative experience with several members of a church (another post entirely) and, after several months, decided that there must be something more than "just God" out there, so I began searching. My search lead me far and wide but also left me quite vulnerable. Because of my area of interest at the time, I began having what I would call satanic dreams. In these dreams, evil and invisible entities would attack me. I often woke up scared and shaken. More than once, I woke up screaming - much to the delight of my husband, I can assure you. Usually, I would try to stay awake after one of these dreams for fear I would be attacked again.

Even though these attacks carried on for years, these dreams were not every night or even every week, but often enough that I became annoyed. Having a nightmare and being afraid to fall asleep again afterwards does not make for productive time at work the next day. About this time, my search was steering me back toward Christ. I was beginning to realize that He was the only one who really provided any security and a true promise. Also about this time, I remembered my handy trick about controlling my dreams.

The next two or three times that I had a dream where I was attacked by an evil force, I simply remembered to shout, "JESUS CHRIST IS MY SAVIOR!" in my dream and the evil force would quickly disappear leaving me to either continue with a more pleasant dream or wake up feeling more like a conqueror than a scaredy-cat.

The unfortunate part was that despite my success in fighting off the evil that came to attack me in my sleep, I was still having the dreams. While my little trick worked to fight these nightmarish dreams it didn't prevent me from having them. I wanted them to STOP!

That's when I remembered my blessed rosary in my nightstand drawer. I simply took it out of the little velvet bag, hung it over the bedpost so that it rested right above my head, said this small prayer, "Lord, please protect me while I sleep" and crawled into bed.

And I have not been attacked by a single evil spirit in my dreams ever since.

I did this even before fully returning to Christ. Because of this, I do believe that even faith as small as a mustard seed can, indeed, move mountains. I think God saw me in the distance coming toward Him and rushed out to welcome me back. Even though I had not fully returned, He knew I was coming home and did for me what I needed Him to do - then as well as now.

Fight for me. Protect me. And give me rest. I'm going to bed now.