kalikshama
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Joined: 8/8/2010
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The author is living in the wrong millenia:
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-religion/2510525/posts
Interestingly, from the moment I began to read volume one, I too was hit by an unexpected spiritual disgust, along with the sense of an oppressive presence that I had come to recognize over the years as the proximity of adverse spirits. Oftentimes in my life, while doing research, I have read books containing clearly evil elements. In terms of contents alone, Harry Potter is rather tame in comparison. So I can say that I approached the series with no strong emotional bias, no irrational fear.
However, from the day I opened the first page and began to read, a cloud of darkness and dread descended, which was held at bay only by increased prayer.
I also experienced nightmares of a kind I had never before experienced in my life. This is totally out of character for me since I am not prone to bad dreams, and usually years go by without me having one. I have had some frightening experiences in my life (far worse than reading a few questionable books) and never suffered a bad dream from it.
But from the moment I began my little part in the resistance, I suffered from nightmares of unprecedented power.
Three stand out in memory. I will spare you much of the detail, but in one, which occurred immediately following the publication of my first critique of the Potter series in a major newspaper, I was being cursed by three witches (perhaps symbolically countering the blessings and prayers of the three holy women who had launched me on this labor). The witches’ spells against me were utterly terrifying, nearly paralyzing, and only when I cried out the name of Jesus were the spells broken and pushed back. I had to keep repeating His name to preserve the defense, and woke up in a state of terror that did not dissipate in the manner of bad dreams. My wife woke up too and prayed with me, and finally we were able to go back to sleep in peace. In a similar dream the following night, the three witches returned, now accompanied by a sorcerer, and once more they cast a hideous spell against me. Again it was repelled by the holy name of Jesus and also by the prayers of the saints, especially St. Joseph.
A third dream that occurred not long after was the most frightening of all. In it, I had been captured and taken to an isolated house deep in a forest. The building was filled with men and women involved in witchcraft and sorcery. They were waiting for a man who was their chief sorcerer to arrive, and I was to be the human sacrifice in the night’s ritual. When he entered the room I felt that all hope had been lost, a black dismay filled me, along with terror of a kind I had never before felt. Even then, I was able to whisper the name of Jesus. Instantly the walls fell backward onto the ground outside the house, the cords that had bound me fell from my wrists and ankles, and I ran for my life. Leaping out of the house, I was astonished to find the entire building surrounded by mighty angels, who by their holy authority had immobilized all of the sorcerers within. I leaped and danced with joy, and realized that I had been transformed into a child. Jesus appeared in the sky above and began to descend. I continued to dance in jubilation and relief, crying out greetings to him as he arrived. At which point I woke up, filled with utter joy. And that was the last of the bad dreams.
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