I have posted this dream for no other reason than that it was very strange. Perhaps someone will have an interpretation to it. I do not claim that some believers will rest through the Tribulation. I do not claim to understand the Tribulation.
I experienced this dream through my own eyes, and it felt as real as my daily life.
It was a regular day in my house, in the city of what appeared to be my dwelling place (though it was not my current, real-life house or city). In an instant, the power was cut to my house and street, and a great sound could be heard outside. I went to see what it was.
In a dark, fire-tinged sky were what I perceived to be fallen angels entering the earth from the heavens. Around me in the city streets, people were panicking, everywhere.
Men were roaming, behaving as beasts, filled with all manner of negative emotions. Fear, hate, and overwhelming dread permeated the air. Men, also, were killing one another and doing all forms of violence. I too, was afraid. An injured man approached me and I brought him into my house. He died shortly after that, and I placed his body in the bathtub to contain the blood. I left my house because I understood that if I stayed, I would die.
I fled through the streets, and was accosted by demons tormenting others, and taking on abominable forms. On one occasion, a demon appeared as a mass of dark slime and made its way toward me. I rebuked it in the name of Yahuah and Messiah, and it could do me no harm. As I turned away from that wicked spirit, a greater approached me from the sky.
A fallen angel, somewhere around nine to twelve feet tall, soared at me on its wings. It landed with a great thud atop a broken concrete structure overlooking me. Gusts of wind from its wings nearly knocked me over.
The fallen angel glared at me with pitch black hollows where eyes should be. Its limbs were thick like the trunks of trees, and strong. A large hand wielded a weapon of some kind. I either rebuked the angel, or did not. Either way, I tried to avoid looking at it and moved on, understanding that it could not hurt me — though the fear that it would made my hair stand on edge. The fallen angel watched me with its hollow, shadowy eyes until I was out of sight.
On the second day, I was with a group of people whom were scrounging to survive. We had found some supplies in the back of a pick-up truck and were preparing to take it, when another group confronted us. They came close to confront us, and I drew a knife and killed two men. A gun battle ensued. I shot a man who did not die. He then shot me, and I thought that was unfair. In fact, I thought it was so unfair that I refused to believe it happened. That belief saved me and my injuries were healed. Both groups were then split up.
On the third day, I was weak, weary, starving, and thirsty. I felt as if to give up and die because of all the misery everywhere. I returned to my dwelling place and resigned to lay down on my bed to die. A feeling, even a thought, came suddenly upon me: “All I have to do, is do nothing, and it will all be over. I just have to stay here and Yahuah will take care of everything.” I laid down on my bed and fell asleep.
I awoke, and the power in my house was back on. I slowly made my way around, turning off the lights so as to not draw attention to myself from any desperate, deranged people. Peering out windows into the streets, a few other men seemed as if to be waking up from where they had laid down on the grass, concrete, and elsewhere. I looked out another window, and saw a highway busy with road traffic. I checked on the dead man in my bathroom, and found that he had been wrapped in plastic. His body was emaciated and dry, as if much time had passed. I was very confused.
I wondered where my dog was. I walked out the front door, and there he came with a dead rabbit in his mouth. A female dog and two puppies were also with him. I understood, and was amazed, that three and a half years had passed.
Two of my friends, whom I will not name here, who are church-going Christians, approached me.
I said, “I slept for three and a half years.”
They replied, “We know. You were lucky. We’ve had to live and survive through it. It was miserable.”
All I could think, all I could say, was: “I slept three and a half years.”
Each time I said it, I was astonished that it had happened. I perceived that I had slept through part of the Great Tribulation. And, not so much that I had just happened to sleep through it but that I was chosen to, blessed to do so. It appeared that everyone, everywhere, understood that there were some untouchable men, women, and children whom had lied down where they were and slept through the three and a half year misery of the Great Tribulation. As they slept, no man, angel, or spirit of any kind could touch them.
I woke up.
