Here we go again.
Apparently, I’m under a spiritual attack. And it only started after I spoke the name Yahweh—the name of our one true God, the Father of Jesus Christ, the Creator of everything. I know Yahweh tests faith. He puts us in situations, lets the enemy come close. But I hope He doesn’t put me through that. I pray He doesn’t.
The reason I say I’m under attack is because the devil has been sending my mom dreams—visions of me dying and going to hell. Of me caught in some kind of trance. I rebuke thee. I’m not afraid of Lucy because I know I’m covered in the blood of Jesus Christ. But part of me wonders… is this more about her demons than mine?
It was still unsettling to hear.
She doesn’t tell me everything because she knows I overthink. What she doesn’t realize is that overthinking helps me prepare for what’s coming. The way she experiences spiritual warfare and the way I experience it—it’s different.
Opening up spiritually has changed me. It’s made me question everything. I don’t know if I’m seeing things for what they really are, or if I’m just going crazy. Maybe this is the beginning of schizophrenia. Maybe this is what a spiritual awakening feels like.
Am I on the right path? Or am I losing my mind?
I can’t even look at my family the same anymore. Take my cousin, for example—I love her to death. But when we had a sleepover and she lay next to me, every time she moved, a thought crept in: What if she stabs me in the back?
I don’t know why I thought that. I know she wouldn’t do that… right?
Maybe spirituality isn’t for everyone. I’m starting to think it isn’t for me either. But I feel like it chose me. And now that I’ve started, now that I know the truth, I can’t go back. I can’t unsee. I can’t live the way I used to live.
And why would I?
Too much is happening in this world to not have the Lord’s protection. I know He tests us—not just our faith, but our spirit. We can be angry at Him, but we were the ones who chose the tree of good and evil. Now only the strongest souls will make it out alive.
I don’t want to burn for eternity. But I also don’t want my mind turning against me.
I don’t want to be here. But I don’t want to leave, either.
This world is cruel. Greedy. Evil. Why would anyone want to stay here? No wonder the good die young—they weren’t meant to see the end. The ones who live through it will wish they could die but will have no choice but to endure it all.
And yet, even knowing all this, I’m still afraid of death.
Even though I know there’s more after this. Something better.
Echo R.S 