Prophetic Dreams: How I Became a Christian

Ashley Swartzfager
Sep 3, 2018 · 3 min read

I was messed up. I was an atheist. I was crying everyday, miserable. I was with this guy and I loved him, but he didn’t love me. I had nothing in my life but the books I escaped to and the abuse I suffered. After reading about visualization techniques from books like The Secret and Psycho-Cybernetics, I put it into action. I imagined my abusive dream guy and I, with him finally falling in love with me, developing in-vitro gametogenesis so I could have children, building a business empire.

I wrote out my goals, I did a spreadsheet, I did a timeline of my life, I did it all. That night I had a dream of being driven to a movie theater by some friends. My friends left and I was sad. There was a synthetic diamond ring, the type I always imagined Damen giving me. Then, I saw a depiction of a variety of sins I won’t go over. Sins I had committed. Though that’s not how I conceptualized them at the time. Finally, I saw a needle, to be poked into my arm.

I also wrote a variety of short stories at the time that turned out to be prophetic. A story about a suicide attempt resulting in enlightenment and a story about living in an isolated place for a length of time.

I didn’t know that at the time of course, but it was God paving his way into my life. I had the gift of prophecy and had always just dismissed it as physically impossible. Months go by, I’m in a room alone while we wait to move, with no Internet, cut off from the outside world. I read and write stories. Desperate, and after reading You are a Badass — a self help book, I started praying twice a day everyday, to God. This was a big turnaround for a strong atheist, but the book said to just assume God was real for practical reasons, that it was necessary. I didn’t know what else to do, so I did that.

Then, after some people were watching me while I was exercising in my room, nude, I raised a fist. “Back off” is all I meant. I didn’t like peeping toms.

From there, I had a “psychotic break.” I now better understand this as demonic possession. I blacked out, I started babbling, I had tripped out visions of an alternate universe, I saw synchronicities on the TV. I had read Steppenwolf in the intervening months — AFTER my dream, you know, the magic theater… My dream had come true and turned out to be prophetic.

After that I became a Christian on the spot. No questions asked. But I lost Damen, I lost everything… And there was a demon lying in wait. Over the intervening months I was planning to kill myself to get to Heaven. I imagined that maybe Heaven was a place like a holodeck where we could get whatever we wanted on the spot. Maybe it still is. But eventually, I decided after reading Jordan Peterson on caring for yourself as if you were your own child, I decided I owed it to myself to not kill myself. Unfortunately, I also decided religion was a harmful “addiction” that could lead to suicide for the desperate, so I lost my faith.

Months later I had another “psychotic break” (really a demon attacking), had another wild trip from that, and ended up in a mental hospital for months. I regained my faith on the spot of course.

I eventually got out and have been listening to deliverance prayers, trying to get it out… It can actually control my limbs, my facial expressions (causing me to make evil faces) and gagging me. Before it disguised itself as a psychotic break or as being drugged with LSD against my will, now it flagrantly shows itself as a spiritual entity, thus proving the existence of God. Now I’m a Christian now and forever.

And like the story of Job, I know I will be okay in the end. Better even, with more rewards. That’s my story so far.

Ashley Swartzfager

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