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Victor's First Three Dreams from the Lord
1) The Coming of the Lord (July, 1972, Prince Albert, Saskatchewan)
I had this dream before I was a believer, in the summer of 1972, in Prince
Albert, Saskatchewan. This was likely in July, and possibly on July 10. It
was the first time the Lord had ever appeared or spoken to me. I was 26
years old, single, working for Homes Canada Inc., selling mobile homes. I
was living in a basement light housekeeping suite in the home of Murray and
Ila Garneau. Some days before, I had fasted for three days and three nights,
without food or drink. I had been searching for God, spending several nights
over months, struggling at my bedside, begging, sometimes on my knees, for
God to show Himself. I was empty, lonely, desperate, and contemplating
suicide. I had no purpose in life.
The dream began with a
voice saying, “The Indians are coming! The Indians are coming! They are
raiding our gardens! Hurry up, everybody! Get your guns! The Indians are
coming!” It seemed I was one of the servants in a great household or
community of some kind. I headed to the back of the house and into a
porch where the armaments were supposed to be. I looked on the walls and saw
guns and bows hanging, but they were all broken and useless.
I then heard the
voice say to me, “Never mind then. Just go out and see what they are
doing.” I went out, and as I stepped out the back door, I walked into
a beautiful, verdant, and fruitful garden, with bountiful trees amidst low
shrubs and plants full of fruit. There I saw the Indians, American natives,
dressed much as they and we dress today. They were clean, respectable,
and
full of peace and joy. They were gathering fruits and vegetables from the
garden. The women were gathering into their baskets and aprons, and the men
into baskets. Plainly, they were anything but a threat.
As I watched them, I
partially understood their spirits, and I knew what was happening. They were
gathering from the garden, yes, but it was their garden,
not ours. Secondly, they were gathering not for themselves, but for us, to
give to us. They were
not
taking; they were giving, joyfully and thankfully.
I walked into the garden
and passed through it and past them. On the other side, I found myself on city
streets, with
buildings all around, and it
seemed that I was walking south, in Calgary, past what seemed to be the McMahon
Stadium on
my
right. Then it seemed that I was approaching the edge of a city block, neighborhood,
or the earth.
Suddenly, everything went
very still and silent. Not a thing could be heard, felt, or seen moving.
There were people to my left and behind me. We were all facing in
one direction, lined up along the edge of what seemed the block, city, or
even the earth. Something was happening.
As I looked ahead, out on
the horizon, I saw a great white building on the right of my
“screen.” It was rectangular in shape, and seemed to be three or
four stories high, yet thousands of stories high. It had windows all over it,
each window covered with a cloud. It had a large entrance, also covered with
cloud. I could not see the bottom of this building, which was concealed by
the horizon. It began to move slowly and very smoothly leftward on my screen.
The smoothness seemed like that of a great ship or barge, on glass-smooth waters.
When it reached the center
of the screen, it stopped. The clouds covering the entrance dispersed to
reveal a large and spacious entrance without doors, something like what one
would see with large governmental or parliamentary buildings. It had several
and wide steps up to the entrance. The entrance was dark, and it seemed that
the building was dark inside. On each side of the entrance stood a giant man,
armed with spear or javelin, I think, standing “at ease,” feet
astride, with weapon arm stretched out to the side. These men seemed to be
perhaps twelve
to sixteen feet tall, and glorious. I judged them to be angels guarding the
entrance.
Then appeared a red path
inside forming on the floor, proceeding to the entrance and the stairs. It
seemed like a flowing red carpet, wide enough for two persons to walk side
by side
on
it.
Two men appeared on it. As it formed, they
walked on it. It came down the stairs, and they came down the stairs. They
walked slowly and steadily, with glory, dignity, and in relaxation. The
path was approaching us, in the center of the screen, and they walked toward
us on the path.
All people stood
transfixed, not knowing what was happening. As the two men approached us,
I suddenly realized that one was none other than the Lord Jesus Christ! I
began to be very afraid, because I also began to realize that this was what
I, at the time, understood to be the “Second Coming.”
Why was I
afraid? I was born and indoctrinated as a Catholic. The Catholic Church
teaches that if one has a mortal (serious) sin on his soul and dies in that
state, or if the Lord comes while one is in that state, the soul goes to
hell to
burn
forever in horrible torment. Ten trillion years later, there is no parole;
it is just beginning. Believing that, was there not good reason for fear,
seeing I knew I was not right with God? I was never so afraid before, or
since.
Just ahead of me, and a little
to my right, about ten to fifteen feet away or so, stood two men with their
backs to me, apparently farmers, looking at what was unfolding before their
eyes. One said to the
other: “What’s going on here?” Knowing what was
going on, realizing that it was indeed the Lord Jesus Christ, and that the
end of the world was here, I was in great fear. I did not say it, but I
thought to say these words to those men: “What the hell is the matter
with you?! Don’t you know what’s going on? It’s the
Second Coming of Christ, that’s what’s going on!” I was
overcome with fear and desperation.
As the two men drew nearer,
Jesus being on the right, and the other man on His left, I saw His
face. What
a face! I had never before or have I since seen anything like it. Plainly,
there is nothing like it. He was Love, Wisdom, Peace, Power, Perfection, and
Authority Incarnate. He was Lord not by position only, but by His very
nature.
His face was distinctly
Jewish, yes, Jewish, yet it was universal. Seeing His face, I could readily
understand the meaning, value, and importance of the Second Commandment, which
says, “You shall not make to yourselves any graven image or likeness
of anything….” I perceived that any picture or statue man might
make to portray the face of the Lord Jesus Christ would not only misrepresent
Him
or fall short of the true, it would be blasphemous. It would be a product of
the flesh, which is, as the Bible declares, at enmity with God. Any pictures
or statues I have seen of the Lord Jesus in homes or churches or anywhere,
no matter how skilled the artists, are abominable compared to the Reality.
They
are a
lie.
There was no condemnation
in His face at all towards me, despite the way I was. My fear was because
of my unbelief and sin, and because of my lack of understanding. It was not
because of Him. Plainly, He was not there to condemn or to hurt. Yet, in
the light of
His character, I was found to be vile. I felt so dirty, so corrupt. Should
I fall on my knees? I found that very difficult, being proud. Should I fall
prostrate?
That was even more difficult. I also knew that if I did fall before Him in
body, I would not be doing so in heart. I knew that my corruption was
unacceptable in His sight, and that anything I did to try to honor Him was
vain and impossible, by my very nature. I dropped to my knees, groveling in
mud, it seemed, though there was no mud except for perhaps me. I was doomed,
and I knew it.
Jesus was dressed in
robes and all royal attire. He had a neat beard, not short, not long, and
His hair was not long, as usually depicted. He was taller than the man with
Him. The man with Him also was distinctly Jewish, but not universal as was
the Lord Jesus. He too had the same kind of hair and beard, and was dressed
in royal clothing. I did not know who the man was. As he walked, he kept
focused on the face of Jesus. He was glowing with admiration. I did not
realize until 27 or 28 years later that what I also had seen in his face was
thankfulness, accompanied with joy. I did not recognize it at the time of the
dream. I only knew that what I saw was peace and deep reverence.
The man tenderly held the
left hand of the Lord in front of him at waist level. While the man supported
the Lord, the Lord was supporting the man - there was a wonderful and harmonious
relationship and work taking place there. They two together also seemed to
be carrying a cushion before them with something on it; but I
do not
recall
seeing or knowing what it was, but I think it was a crown. While Jesus looked
ahead at the people, the man seldom did. The man would take the occasional
glance,
but
mostly
his gaze
was fixed on the Lord's face. Jesus would sometimes raise His right hand and
acknowledge the rare one in the crowd. He did not acknowledge the two
farmers, and He did not acknowledge me. I was condemned, not by Him, but in
myself.
As the two men drew near
us, their path continuing without stopping, they then turned to their right
(toward the left of my screen). They continued walking in front of and past
the crowd. The moment they had turned to their right, the
great
white
building,
which had remained in the background, still in the middle of the picture, began
to move in the same direction as the men, to the left in my view. Again,
it
moved
at
the same
slow, steady, and super smooth pace.
The dream ended, and I
awoke with my sleep shirt soaked with perspiration. I was absolutely
terrified, slightly relieved that it was but a dream and not the reality.
It was so real that when awoke, I wondered if it was not a revelation to
me of
what was absolutely established would be, with no hope of change. The
effect of that dream, though terrifying, was that I would seek after God, try
my utmost to change my life, and seek to be accepted of Him,
whatever that would take. I shared that dream with many, who marveled at it.
Who was the man walking at
the left hand of the Lord? Twelve years later, at the KOA trailer campground
at Lethbridge, Alberta, the Lord revealed to me who he was. I was astounded.
2) The Indians
For the first while after
the dream, I found myself pondering about how the dream had begun, with
Indians, and how happy they were, and I wondered what they had to do with the
“Second Coming.” I then received another dream, a word dream
only. A voice posed this question to me: “Victor, why do you think
those Indians had such peaceful faces?” Suddenly, it seemed I knew, but
before I could answer, the voice said to me: “Because they had
spiritual, not physical food.”
I set out to eliminate all
vices and to practice all virtues. In my attempt to live a good life, one I
thought I needed to live to be acceptable to God, I was soon to learn how
impossible that was. If a man can catch the wind in his fists, he can live
a righteous life. I became despondent, feeling so powerless and helpless.
I
couldn’t understand why it was so hard to do and to be
“good.” I was about to quit altogether after weeks or months of
trying and failing, when I had a third dream.
3) Go On; Don't Stop
In this dream, I was at the
bottom of a long set of stairs that led down to a dark basement. There was
an open door at the top, with light shining in. I was at the bottom of the
stairs,
squatting on the floor, naked, and purging myself. I heard a voice come from
the doorway saying, “For one and a quarter, you have had the word; for
one forty-five, you will have the life.”
I took it to mean that I was to go on, to not give up, to keep trying, that
I was almost there. In that persisting, I would reach the desired goal. The
dream encouraged me to continue seeking after God, and to strive to be good.
Weeks or months later, in
February of 1973, George Lynn, a man in his sixties, came up to Prince Albert
to service our company’s mobile homes. I recall the first time I went
to see him, and to welcome him. I saw him through the window, while
approaching his door, sitting in a chair, not watching TV, not reading
anything, but simply sitting there. It struck me. He seemed to have peace. I
had already been searching for life, its purpose and meaning.
He shared the Scriptures
with me in his motel room evenings, and in the office during the day. At the
end of about seven days, I asked that we pray. We got down on our knees, not
an easy thing for a proud, stogy-smoking sales manager to do, and I began to
pray. I was surprised. I didn’t know how to pray, or what to say.
George coached me, telling me that all I had to do was talk to God as I would
an older man, with respect for Him. He guided me to confess myself a sinner,
and helpless to do anything about it. How I knew that to be true! I had been
searching in the occult, seeking out other religions, trying to be good, and
in failing, I had run out of options and answers. George was telling me that
Jesus was the answer, that faith in His blood and resurrection was the way,
and that receiving Him as Lord, to take over my life, was the only way. I
submitted, by the grace of God. In the next days, I found I was changing,
with vices disappearing and virtues coming forth, and I did not have to make
it happen. How wonderful … not easy, not magical, but now possible, and
wonderful!
I do not recall having any more
dreams or visions for a while.
Victor Hafichuk
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