I try not to think of Satan. I usually think of Satan when little things happen. For example, you have on your favorite or brand new pair of shoes and the first thing you do when you step out of the car is plop your foot on a big piece of bubble gum. Or you look down with pride at how pretty and long your nails have grown, and then you break one. That's when I imagine Satan, whatever he is, laughing and giggling.
But not this morning. Oh no. This morning, that same concept was handed back to me on a big silver platter. It was as if Satan (or whatever you believe evil entities to be) thought, "What is Donna's worst, deepest, most soul-wrenching pain? Oh, yes, that's it! I think she needs a huge dose of it this morning before she wakes up. She needs to live it, feel it, smell it, taste it... Yes, that's what Donna needs this morning." And therefore the torment commenced.
Those of you who know me well know that I often have vivid dreams. This one was no exception, aside from the fact that it played upon every single emotion & physical sense, literally reaching down into my soul and slicing me with a twisting, writhing, hot scalpel. I saw, I touched, I smelled, I tasted the apparitions. I woke up groaning, sobbing, and wrenching in mental agony. As my sweet girls surrounded me and comforted me, very worried that I woke up so distraught, I struggled to recover and not wallow in the sensations of the dream. Slowly I regained composure, and was able to drive them to school safely.
I do try not to even think of Satan; this morning what I experienced could only be described as personal torment. A personal attack. A direct hit. I may not have stepped in any bubble gum lately, but I knew what was up immediately, and thanked God for giving me the intelligence to realize it. Some of us are at a point in our journey that we don't always give power to the presence of evil. But it is there. Oh yes, it is there.