|photo credit: graur codrin/freedigitalphotos|
Today, I’m talking about smothering.
In my Howdunit Forensics: A Guide for Writers, D.P. Lyle says, “Smothering
occurs when some external device prevents air from entering the nose or
started the series on spiritual asphyxiation. You can read part 1 on
Environmental Suffocation, HERE.
had a dream. Not a Martin Luther King Jr. kind of dream. A nightmare, actually.
Now, I don’t think every dream is a spiritual dream. Sometimes it’s the fault
of the pizza I ate.
concrete basement of my childhood home. Washing clothes. The smell of must, lack of light, and
the chilled air from being underground didn’t seem to bother
from the dryer when the hairs on my neck stood on end. Paralyzing fear held me
in place, my eyes bugged out searching for the source of terror. But I saw
settled down my spine and I before I had the chance to process anything, a bony arm came
out from behind me. I knew the only shot I had to survive was to scream out the
name of Jesus.
words cut off as the claw-like hand snapped over my mouth and held my
speech prisoner. I couldn’t breathe.
didn’t beat out of my rib cage, the fear was too great, I think it seemed to
stop beating altogether. Only buzzing between my ears.
“You don’t have to speak to say My name.” Like a thought answering me
All I knew was I had
to get to Jesus. So I raised my hands, and like I’d been taught in Sunday school when singing Jesus Love Me, dropped the towel and brought my middle finger to
the palm of my left hand and then repeated it with my right. Back and forth,
wildly. Sign language.
Jesus!” my mind and hands cried out.
and I was in my bed, still in the dark. My husband slept peacefully beside me.
Sweat drenched my body and the slivers of fear from the dream still clung to
the standing hairs along my neck.
“Jesus,” I whispered. “Jesus…Jesus…”
when the assailant places a gag or tape over the victim’s mouth or nose…”
D.P. Lyle, M.D
and keep you from calling on God, he’ll do it. It’s called homicide for
a reason. He lurks and waits for an opportunity. In my dream, I was doing the
mundane. Housework. I wasn’t expecting a vicious attack. And I certainly wasn’t
expecting one up close and personal.
vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour 1 Peter 5:8.”
with a terminal illness or someone you love is, a loved one dies leaving you
alone, you’ve been victimized, your house burns to the ground, a spouse is
unfaithful, a child becomes addicted to drugs…
enemy slides his bony claws in from behind and puts a gag of fear around your
mouth and nose.
from Jesus. It’ll slowly suck the life out of you. Suffocating you. Fear breeds
doubt. Fear builds walls. Fear sometimes means flight.
you need is Jesus. When you don’t think you have the breath in you to call on
Him, He’ll get creative so you can.
times. You can trust Him to loose the hold the enemy has on you and pull you
from the dark basement you feel trapped in. You can trust Him to carry you
through the nightmare, to wake you up and still be there beside you, holding
your hand–kissing the palm, showing you His. You’re safe. Always safe.