Whatever Happens, Be Still!

Dream Applications: Receiving Words of Knowledge and Wisdom for your times.

In the cloak of the dark, under lamplight, my husband and I walked towards a white four door sedan. Around us other people also strolled their own ways. Once in the car things rapidly changed. My husband was in the back seat and I in the drivers seat. With steel in his voice he said, “Whatever happens, Be Still!”

In the next moment a great grizz of a bear smashed through the back window swiping at my husband. I slung my body and huddled against the drivers door with my arm and elbow raised in self protection as a young lion then jumped through the window as well, into the passenger seat beside me. Its gaping jaw opened inches from my face as it roared. Immediately my base survival instincts kicked in and I began flailing at the lion, while my husband wrestled the bear. I felt my bare skin push through warm slime as my arm slipped in the lion’s mouth. I pulled back and did my best to use both thumbs to jab into its eyes and gouge them. This repeated until the lion finally shook itself and jumped out the passenger door window, leaving me with a sense of being stunned. Then the dream abruptly ended.

When I woke, my mind immediately began to process… What was That!? As my thoughts and emotions began to take order, I realized that the skin on my arm had never even grazed those razor teeth. I had only felt the warm slime as my hand and arm slipped through as I tried to hit at it, resisting with all my might.

In the days that followed I began to understand the dream’s purpose. A word of Knowledge and Wisdom had been given to me regarding literal events that were quickly about to unfold. We had been on an wonder filled journey of restoration as a family. (More about that in another post.)

We had sold the house we had bought and restored and planned to build our home on the four acres God had helped us purchase prior. Since it was bare land, we began from scratch and started the shop that would house the cabinet making and finishing business my husband I had started a few years before. We had estimated a couple weeks or so until we would be able to move into the living area we had included in the shop plans, so we moved in with my parents for the short interim.

The couple weeks turned into nearly 8 months. (*8 is the number of restoration, and many such synchronicities had been taking place) By the time we were planning to move out of my parents house, the condo board mailed legal papers stating that we had been there too long and must move out or legal action would be taken. No conversation occurred asking how long we might stay or when we planned to move, just an ugly letter from the condo board– Out or else.

Though it was rude and an unnecessary manner of asking us to go, fortunately, we had already been making plans to move to our own place April Fools day. We packed up and began our move. The weather was beautiful, the kids were running about helping and getting in the way-–perfect. The Peace Officer was an unexpected addition to the chaos that was already underway as we unloaded and squeezed everything into the reduced living spaces.

” You can’t live here.” Come again?–what was he talking about? Its our property, of course we can. “You can’t live here, its illegal.” He noted our blank looks, then began to reveal “people” in the neighborhood complained that there were kids living in the garage and mentioned a restrictive covenant in our purchase agreement. At first I just stared at him. Then my ire began to rise as I processed what he was saying. He began to look nervous and my voice took on a “tone” and I shared a few thoughts with him. Speaking of bears, the proverbial momma bear in me awakened and growled, standing on hind legs.

He explained that the legal covenant we had signed in the purchase of the property had some very fine print.  He stated that holiday campers were allowed to be lived in on the property while we built the house, but we had to apply for a legal suite designation to use the shop as living space. Never mind that it had 1.5 bathrooms, a lunch room with full kitchen, two offices upstairs and a loft area. None of that mattered because we hadn’t known to apply to the county for a legal designation of living quarters or an “in-law” suite before we built it.

He departed leaving us in a stupor of surprise and growing frustration. No names would be given of who had a problem with us living in the shop, and once again, no one had bothered to come talk to us about their concerns.

We couldn’t go back to my parents, and we weren’t allowed to live in the shop quarters. We didn’t own a holiday trailer either. With four rambunctious boys, not just anyone was going to invite us in to stay, and we hadn’t planned to start building the house for another two years. We were caught between two legal entities with nowhere to go.

The dream didn’t immediately come to mind when the peace officer had discharged his duties but filtered into my consciousness at a later point. The community in the dream literally consisted of my parents condo community and our subdivision community. The white sedan represented our innocent actions taken to provide for our family. The peaceable dark summer night symbolized our unwitting motives, and troubling events we were about to enter through underhanded tattle-taling of the community members, and the enemy’s intent to trap us and prevent us from fully realizing our restoration and blessing the Lord had promised. The bear and the lion-obvious enough-our prowling enemies sent to devour us and stop our blessing.

Since we had no where else to go, we went inside our shop for the night. We began investigating the why and to who this mattered, and to see if we could change the designation of the shop living quarters. We were getting nothing but red tape as staff turnover at the county office kept delaying our process, and they wouldn’t share who had made the complaints. We had wanted to express to them we weren’t making our kids sleep on the cement floor, they were being fed and clothed and were perfectly fine, better in fact, than camping in a trailer on the property.

My soul was troubled so I shared at my shop kitchen table with my prophetess friend what was going on, expecting at least a sympathetic ear. What I got was listening nods and then abruptly, laughter.

Laughter.

At first I was taken aback. I inquired. She shook her head and went on laughing, then apologized saying she wasn’t sure why. Afterwards I recalled another occasion where she began to laugh when I spoke. This was another whole new area we were about to learn about warfare and justice (More about that in another post.)

A few weeks went by before the Peace Officer returned with his same lecture. We expressed our attempts to work things out and were informed that we could be forcibly removed and if necessary, they would come with crow bars and rip out the cabinets and everything else in the shop so that we couldn’t remain there, it was our choice. Vacate or the wrecking crew would be sent. Unbelievable right? So much for a sense of community. Now I was angry…and somewhat combative in attitude. You’re messing with my kids!  He took some steps back like he was unsure, my husband intervened, and the officer went on his way again.

“Whatever happens, Be Still.”  I wondered at it, asked for understanding. I knew I was given the instruction for this time and was struggling how to apply it. Feeling powerless was too familiar of a feeling. I’m sure you can relate. It makes even the most amiable person feel a bit driven via desperation.

We had even borrowed a camper and pulled it right out the shop doors, spending most of our time in the shop, but spies weren’t satisfied. Like birds of the air they spread their discontent believing we did not conform to their expectations. Back to the county office we went, only to discover a new person in charge who knew nothing of our process. We had to start over.

As a mother, I expressed our plight to the new guy, saying that “someone” would rather our kids live in a tent on the lawn than inside a furnished and appropriate living space. His flippant reply appalled me. He laughed and said “better put up a tent!” By this time it was nearing late fall, with our now typical earlier arrival of  winter soon approaching– no sane Canadian tents in the winter long term. One look at my face stopped up his laughter. I managed to bite my tongue, but my eyes shot lightening bolts. The process began again.

We do not war against flesh and blood but against powers, and principalities in heavenly realms. Ephesians 6

I had already learned a great deal about how the enemy of our souls works, and how to handle it, but this was a new learning curve for me. I knew it only appeared that my enemy had skin on, but our adversarys were using the powers that be as human puppets to thwart our every effort.

Finally, I suggested that we talk with the person who had turned the land into acreages to see if he had complained about us, or if he knew who had the issue with us. He admitted a part with an Polly Anna “Oh gee maybe something I said created this” type of reply. He had been worried if we lived in the shop, we might decide to stay in it and not build a house, so he had shared the legal caveat in the purchase agreement (though we were well under the time allotment deadline) and bylaws to the authorities. He also mentioned another neighbor who had formally complained.

Now it was clear who and what the bear and lion represented leaving us choices to make.

By this time we felt so harassed and tired like the trees whose leaves were already coloring, we started building the house a year earlier than intended, stretching our finances into minor contortions. We also went back a third time to the county and found we were to deal with yet another new person. This one had more compassion fortunately, and time and the economy drop brought changes to policy so she was willing to try to help us get the suite made legal.

Throughout this process, some of our kids were old enough to understand the problems and were worried. I took one of my worried sons and pointed out the shop kitchen window to a spot, and said, “God will help us. A house is going to be built right there; watch and see.” By this point I had recovered my peace I had let go of when the trouble came. Not only did they watch, they helped with the foundation and other parts of the build.

The bear and the lion were no match for our Heavenly Father who had promised restoration. Before all this issue began, I had been learning about “stillness’ and listening to Graham Cooke’s message on ” Stillness.” Thus, the instructions, “Whatever happens, Be still!

I could have went through the entire process in peace and rest.

In quietness and rest shall be your confidence.

My friends reaction should have been another clue to just calm down and be still, knowing that He IS MY God.

God sits in the heavens and laughs…

It’s true that my flailing resistance to my enemy caused him to turn and flee– just like the word says, “…the enemy prowls around like a lion, seeking who he may desire. Resist the devil, and he will flee.”

However, God was teaching me a new way of warfare that was so polar opposite to what I had learned before. No need to get combative. No need to raise one’s voice and shout down the enemy. No need to for any of the, at times, exhausting manner of warring that I had learned in my early days.

This strategy called for peace. For stilling myself in His presence, confident that He was at work, and would prevail on our behalf. He had spoken and so it would be.

ALL I really needed was to be still and believe. The rest would work out. He had told me to ask for upper and lower springs from him, just like Caleb’s daughter had. So I did. We ended up with two properties, the restored house we sold, and the one we live in now.

In faith I had named our acreage, “Caller’s Springs.” The name is a translation from the book of Judges. When Samson had slain all his enemies, he thirsted. Then he called out for water to refresh him. And God responded, creating a spring to rise and gush before him–amazing kindness. Then Samson drank and was revived. Samson didn’t do everything right either, but God was faithful, just as He promised.

It was such a fitting name for our acreage, since we too had been on a journey of overcoming our enemies and being restored, Revived. This story is somewhere around the mid-point of our journey. IF you were blessed reading it, watch for more posts to come sharing other parts of God’s kindness and creative restoration process in our lives.

May you all experience the restoration you are seeking, and be fully revived in the process. Remember, there is a kind of warfare that engages by being still, and knowing, HE IS OUR GOD.

Check out Worship Mob’s song “Defender” with spontaneous worship on YouTube.

 

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