Seers and other spiritually-sensitive people often have difficulty sleeping. Sometimes they lay in bed, hearing whispers and voices from the spirit realm.
Sometimes they open their eyes in their dark bedrooms and see dark, shadowy figures in their room.
Sometimes they fear being assaulted.
Sometimes their dreaming hours are the most exhausting, ever attacked by dark spirits in dark dreams they cannot understand.
When our own seer daughter was quite young, we realized the value of night lights and prayer before bed.
And now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.
Who in the world came up with that prayer?
We certainly didn’t talk of death to our seer daughter before bedtime, but I did pray God’s Kingdom in your life, good dreams and good sleep in Jesus’ name.
And if she saw a dark spirit, I’d open a bedroom window and commanded any dark spirits in the area to depart, sometimes inviting the Holy Spirit’s presence to fill the room. She learned to do this even without us present and learned what Jesus smells like when he shows up.
Nonetheless, our daughter would often have terrible spiritual dreams for an array of reasons.
Sleep Paralysis
Some spiritual attacks take the form of “sleep paralysis”, when you cannot move, feel the presence of someone in the room, feel pressure on your chest, and terrible fear. While this can be a normal physical response to a cascading series of conditions, it can also be an avenue of spiritual attack. See this Peeranormal episode on that, and this page for more on what to do when Sleep Paralysis is a demonic attack.
Spiritual Attacks in Dreams: An Ancient Concern
I came across a poem, “Hymn Before Sleep” from the 4 or 5th Century AD by a Roman poet with this line in it:
But he whose heart is blackened,
With many a sin imbued,
Sees phantoms grim and ghastly
That beckon and delude.
If only it were that simple. Many seers who pursue holy lives and live by faith in Christ Jesus see “phantoms grim and ghastly” whether they are asleep or not, and they don’t know why.
But certainly, not living a holy life of faith in Jesus Christ invites more darkness to the seer. That’s what my book Peace in Your House is all about.
But as I read the poem more carefully, the author is affirming peace and protection in Christ for a good night’s sleep, not that attacks can’t come to the holy. The poem reminds us – and the spirit realm – that darkness has lost and will lose to the Lord Jesus because Christ’s victory on the Cross. This reminder is an encouragement to us, and dismay to the enemy spirits because we can command:
Vanish! for Christ is with us;
Away! ’tis Christ the Lord:
The sign thou must acknowledge
Condemns thy hellish horde…
This is the poet’s faith and hope.
I find this poem really encouraging. It tells me that in the 5th Century, Christians were struggling with spiritual attacks in the middle of the night even as we do today, and the notion of seeing spirits wasn’t foreign to them (so why should it be foreign to us?).
And our hope isn’t in waving sage before bed or having white noise to drown out the voices but in the Lord Jesus Christ, because
The Cross dispels all darkness,
All sin before it flies,
And by that sign protected
The mind all fear defies.
Here is the complete poem. You might find it encouraging to read when fear hits you before sleep.
Hymn Before Sleep, translated by R. Martin Pope. Created by Aurelius Prudentius (AD 358-413)
Draw near, Almighty Father,
Ne’er seen by mortal eye;
Come, O Thou Word eternal,
O Spirit blest, be nigh.
One light of threefold Godhead,
One power that all transcends;
God is of God begotten,
And God from both descends.
The hour of rest approaches,
The toils of day are past,
And o’er our tired bodies
Sleep’s gentle charm is cast.
The mind, by cares tormented
Amid life’s storm and stress,
Drinks deep the wondrous potion
That brings forgetfulness.
O’er weary, toil-worn mortals
The spells of Lethe steal;
Sad hearts lose all their sorrow,
Nor pain nor anguish feel.
For to His frail creation
God gave this law to keep,
That labour should be lightened
By soft and healing sleep.
But while sweet languor wanders
Through all the pulsing veins,
And, wrapt in dewy slumber,
The heart at rest remains,
The soul, in wakeful vigour,
Aloft in freedom flies,
And sees in many a semblance
The hidden mysteries.
For, freed from care, the spirit
That came from out the sky,
Born of the stainless aether,
Can never idle lie.
A thousand changing phantoms
She fashions through the night,
And ‘midst a world of fancy
Pursues her rapid flight.
But divers are the visions
That night to dreamers shows;
Rare gleams of straying splendour
The future may disclose;
More oft the truth is darkened,
And lying fantasy
Deceives the affrighted sleeper
With cunning treachery.
To him whose life is holy
The things that are concealed
Lie open to his spirit
In radiant light revealed;
But he whose heart is blackened,
With many a sin imbued,
Sees phantoms grim and ghastly
That beckon and delude.
So in the Egyptian dungeon
The patriarch of old
Unto the king’s two servants
Their fateful visions told:
And one is brought from prison
The monarch’s wine to pour,
One, on the gibbet hanging,
Foul birds of prey devour,
He warned the king, distracted
By riddles of the night,
To hoard the plenteous harvests
Against the years of blight.
Soon, lord of half a kingdom,
A mighty potentate,
He shares the royal sceptre
And dwells in princely state.
But ah! how deep the secrets
The holy sleeper sees
To whom Christ shows His highest,
Most sacred mysteries.
For God’s most faithful servant
The clouds were rolled away,
And John beheld the wonders
That sealed from mortals lay.
The Lamb of God, encrimsoned
With sacrificial stains,
Alone the Book can open
That destiny contains.
By His strong hand is wielded
A keen, two-edgèd brand
That, flashing like the lightning,
Smites swift on either hand.
Before His bar of judgment
Both soul and body lie;
He whom that dread sword smiteth
The second death shall die.
Yet mercy tempers justice,
And few the Avenger sends
(Whose guilt is past all pardon)
To death that never ends.
To Him the Father yieldeth
The judgement-seat of Heaven;
To Him a Name excelling
All other names is given.
For by His strength transcendent
Shall Antichrist be slain,
And from that raging monster
Fair trophies shall He gain:
That all-devouring Dragon,
With blood of martyrs red,
On whose abhorrèd power
John’s solemn curse is laid.
And thus the proud usurper
Of His high name is cast
By Him, the true Christ, vanquished
To deepest hell at last.
Upon the saint heroic
Such wondrous slumber falls
That, in the spirit roaming,
He treads heaven’s highest halls.
We may not, in our weakness,
To dreams like these aspire,
Whose souls are steeped in error
And evil things desire.
Enough, if weary bodies
In peaceful sleep may rest;
Enough, if no dark powers
Our slumbering souls molest.
Christian! the font remember,
The sacramental vow,
The holy water sprinkled,
The oil that marked thy brow!
When at sleep’s call thou seekest
To rest in slumber chaste,
Let first the sacred emblem
On breast and brow be traced.
The Cross dispels all darkness,
All sin before it flies,
And by that sign protected
The mind all fear defies.
Avaunt! ye fleeting phantoms
That mock our midnight hours;
Avaunt! thou great Deceiver
With all thy guileful powers.
Thou Serpent, old and crafty,
Who by a thousand arts
And manifold temptations
Dost vex our sleeping hearts,
Vanish! for Christ is with us;
Away! ’tis Christ the Lord:
The sign thou must acknowledge
Condemns thy hellish horde.
And, though the weary body
Relaxed in sleep may be,
Our hearts, Lord, e’en in slumber,
Shall meditate on Thee.