JEANE'S SPIRITURAL JOURNEY

Dream 1: The Burial Ground and the Circle of Women

The first dream shook me to my core.

I was lying in my bed when suddenly, a hand — not a scary hand but a powerful, authoritative one — grabbed me by my feet and lifted me upright.
The hand told me: “Look.”

When I looked, I wasn’t in my room anymore. I was staring into a burial ground.

There were 11 women circling a huge wedding pot, candles in their hands, chanting something I couldn’t understand. Their posture wasn’t peaceful. It felt ritualistic, dark, intentional.

And just as quickly, the hand released me, and I fell right back into my bed.

I didn’t know it then, but that was the first sign that God was trying to open my eyes to spiritual battles connected to me.

---

Dream 2: The Shallow Grave

The second dream was even worse.

I was lying in a ditch — a shallow grave.
I was alive, but I couldn’t speak. My voice was gone, but my thoughts were screaming:

“I’m alive! Don’t cover me!”

People began covering me with grass — burying me as if I were dead.
A tractor trailer came to drop the second load, and right before I was fully buried alive…

I woke up.

This dream revealed the feeling of being silenced, unseen, overlooked, and spiritually buried.
But even deeper — it symbolized that something or someone was trying to spiritually “bury” my purpose before it could even come alive.

---

Dream 3: The Pastor Behind the Door

I walked into a building in the dream.
A pastor — one I recognized from real life — stood behind a door watching me.

As I passed, he grabbed me with his left hand, threw me on a bed, and forced my mouth open.
He blew into my mouth hard… with anger, authority, and a spirit I could feel was not from God.

Then he pushed me out.

This dream wasn’t random.
It showed spiritual manipulation, spiritual control, and the false authority some people carry under the disguise of religion.

That dream was a warning:
“Not every spiritual leader is led by God. Be careful who speaks into you.”

---

Dream 4: The Boat, the Water, and the Hands Pulling Me Down

Then came the dream that felt like a movie.

I was on a boat — a cruise ship — and walked to the bow.
A massive wave hit and knocked me overboard. I held onto the side of the boat, fighting to survive.

But as my feet hung in the water, two unseen hands grabbed my ankles and started pulling me down.
The pull was strong — stronger than me.
And part of me wanted to give up.

But something in me refused.

Two captains came out, saw me, and pulled me up.
They covered me in towels, trying to warm me.
I told them what grabbed my feet — they didn’t believe me until they saw the handprints on my ankles.

At that moment, I knew:

“This attack wasn’t natural.”

The captains took me to land — a place that looked like the Bahamas.
As I stepped off the boat, I saw my daughter and grandson coming toward me.

Something told me:
“That boat is going to explode.”

We heard the bell strike midnight.

And at exactly 12 AM, the ship exploded.