The Blessed Hope: A Journey of Faith and Renewal by Ivy Jebichy

It is three in the morning, and I am fully awake.

Lying here in my bed, and staring into the suffocating darkness, where shadows seem to breathe. I would rather be deep in some sweet sleep, but I am glad I am awake so I can stand against the devil and tell him to his face that he is a liar and a loser.

I just had a nightmare. I was at war with the devil, actually, but unlike the many other nightmares I have had in my dreams, this time, I awoke, and I was not scared.

I will first go ahead and gladly tell you that I gave my life to Jesus almost two months ago. I am glad about the new change in me because I have never found anything or anywhere safer than being with God.

With that, I am simply telling you that there is peace and real life with Jesus. The confidence I have here in giving you this joyous piece of news is not mine but the Lord’s.

And going back to the nightmare, I want to confirm that I had actually seen a huge bird on top of a tree last evening, and I pointed it out to my friend. I am not really sure what kind of bird it was, but I think it was a giant owl, for I have seen at least one, if not several in the village. And what would a bird be doing, sitting comfortably on a branch in the cover of darkness, save for an owl, which happens to be nocturnal anyway?

The thing is, the bird I had seen attacked me in my dreams. It was an owl. A giant, black, ominous owl.

Owls have always unsettled me. Their hoots being an eerie call, a whisper of bad luck, or perhaps even a herald of death.

In my dream, I am home, upcountry, in my night attire, ready for bed when a knock sounds on the door. I open it, and there stands the one guy I like most. I usher him in, and suddenly, an owl starts hooting just outside the house.

I have never liked those sounds. They disturb the quiet of the night, and again, they are unsettling, depressing, dreadful, revolting and, like I had said, ill-omened.

I have never been known to tolerate them either, if I can help it, so in this case, I want to go out and try to drive it away.

Unbeknownst to me, the devil has declared war. He sent the brother to tempt me in the one way a woman can be compromised.

The devil sought to make me sin, to make me weak. The man was also in the faith, so I didn’t see that coming, but I passed the test, picked up my coat, and ran out.

The devil is sly, he knew I would go out rebuking the bird like I have done so many times before.

So he lay in wait to devour me.

But my God is true and faithful. The God of my salvation is my strong tower and my shield against any weapon formed against me. And in Him, I have the confidence that every tongue that rises against me in judgment shall be condemned.

So I walked around the compound, peeking at trees with the help of the moon that shone bright.

Then I spotted it.

Bloodshot, huge eyes- the most terrifying bird I have ever seen- staring at me menacingly. It sits on a branch, watching, seemingly huge and gloomy, poised to attack.

Then it soars toward me, talons outstretched, a shadow of death in the moonlight. I froze.

There is only one being who can save me, the one being who is above and beyond any other, the one name I hold onto and consider holy- the name Jesus.

I shouted and rebuked it by the blood of Jesus; I tell it he is nothing save a loser and a coward. I recited the verse where it is written that no weapon formed against me shall prosper, asking God to protect and preserve my life from the fear of the enemy.

By this time, it was so close I had to dive behind the barbed wire near me to save my head.

It comes down, hopping on its feet with its wings drawn out wide for balance, stopping just a few paces behind me. Then it turns and approaches me in the most assured and calm manner.

I sense the end… but then, it suddenly stops, appearing to be struck by something.

I take the golden chance to flee to safety, but just as I am about to open the door, it catches up with me.

With my adrenaline on edge and my survival instinct on point, I grab a thick piece of wood leaning against the wall and swing with all my might, striking the evil bird with a sickening thud.

It doesn’t die but loses balance and drops to the ground. I struck it repeatedly, again and again and again, until it died.

By the time it lies still, I am shaking with fear and my mind flooded with disbelief. I had killed the damned bird.

But one thing remains for sure- the Lord saved me.

I arose from my sleep, and I feel peace, security, and triumph over opposition.

Thank you, Lord, for saving me.

I suppose all I need to remember is that God will never let me down. For greater is He that is in me than he that is in the world -(1 John 4:4).

But I do wonder, what really happens should such a dream turn tragic?