Chapter 1: Early life and faith
My name is Catherine Okonnell. My journey began not amid heavenly visions or night terrors, but rather in the bolic tranquility of a small town in rural Ireland, a place where the hills are so deep green they seem handpainted. And the ancient stone fences whisper the stories of generations. I was the daughter of Pastor Leon Carana, a man whose faith was as solid and unshakable as the cliffs of M. My mother Fiona was the heart of our home and the church.
A woman whose gentleness and quiet strength were the glue that held everything together. I grew up under the protective shadow of the church steeple. My life was governed by the Christian calendar, by hymns sung with the strong local accent, and by the daily reading of scripture at the dinner table. The fundamental principle of my upbringing was obedience. obedience to God, obedience to my parents, and by extension, obedience to the pastor was a simple world, a straight and well-defined path.
I was the pastor's daughter, a role I performed with a mixture of pride and duty. My voice led the worship. My hands helped organize community events, and my presence was constant at every service and prayer meeting. I loved God with the pure and unquestioning faith of a child. A faith as familiar and comforting as the smell of Pete burning in the fireplace. At 23,
Chapter 2: Marriage and ministry shift
my life took an unexpected turn. Our church welcomed a visiting missionary pastor from Canada named Juliano Boa. He was dynamic, eloquent, and possessed a fervor that seemed to set the air around him on fire. His sermons were not the quiet reflections I was accustomed to. They were calls to battle summonses to a radical and passionate Christianity. I was instantly captivated. Julian's blue eyes shone with a vision for the nations.
And I, a girl from a small Irish town, felt my heart expand with the possibilities. Our romance was quick and intense, blessed with enthusiasm by my parents, who saw in Julian a man of God with a genuine calling. We were married in a sunny ceremony in my childhood chapel. By saying yes and becoming Catherine Dubis, I felt that I was finally stepping into my true purpose to be the companion of a great man of God on his mission throughout the world. The first great tear in the fabric of my comfortable life was departure.
Leaving Ireland, my parents, and the only church I'd ever known was like tearing out a piece of my soul. But Julian's calling was to his homeland. Shortly after our wedding, he felt God's leading to found a new church in Toronto, a vibrant and immense cosmopolitan city, a world away from my verdant refuge with suitcases full of hope and a heart full of apprehension. I followed him. He founded Covenant Life Center, and I became at 24 the wife of the founding pastor.
The culture shock was immense. Toronto was a metropolis of skyscrapers, a mosaic of cultures, and for me, a lonely place. The role of first lady in a modern growing church was a heavy burden. In Toronto, image was crucial. The evangelical culture we found was polished, professional, and successoriented.
Chapter 3: Living a double life
Julian, though sincere in his faith, quickly adapted to this new environment. He believed that to reach the city, we needed to appear successful and blessed. Kate, dear, he would tell me with an encouraging smile. You are the showcase of our ministry. People are attracted to excellence. I accepted this new mission with the same dedication as always. I decided that if this was what it took to support my husband and build the kingdom of God, I would become the woman I needed to be.
I immersed myself in a world of fashion and sophistication that was completely foreign to me. I traded my wool sweaters and modest skirts for designer dresses, high heels, and delicate jewelry. I learned the art of makeup, lining my eyes, and painting my lips with colors that made me feel like an outsider. Dot. I transformed myself into a chic urban woman. Vanity became my new armor, and I justified it as a ministerial strategy.
However, behind closed doors in our condominium, overlooking the city, the facade crumbled. I traded my tight dresses and heels for short shorts and strap tops. There, in the privacy of our home, I sought comfort and a remnant of the laid-back girl I used to be. I saw no harm in that. It was my space, our refuge. Julian didn't object. He appreciated my effort to be attractive to him. I was living a double life, the pastor's wife, impeccable and inspiring to the public, and young Kate, worldly and a bit lost in private.
I wasn't aware that I was building my spiritual house on a cracked foundation. The first
Chapter 4: The first divine warning
divine warning came suddenly and terrifyingly. It was it was a cold afternoon and I was in our room kneeling beside the bed praying for our church. Suddenly the walls of the room seemed to dissolve and I was taken away in a vision. I saw our congregation, the familiar faces of our members being lifted toward heaven in a blinding beam of light. Dot. It was the rapture. Immense joy filled me as I watched him ascend, but it was immediately replaced by icy terror.
When I realized I wasn't with them, my feet were nailed to the ground. A cry of pure despair welled up from the depths of my soul in the vision. Lord, don't leave me. Please don't leave me behind. Then a voice powerful as a thunderclap, yet clear as crystal resounded not in my ears, but in my spirit. I know you. Change your clothes. The vision vanished as quickly as it had come. I was back in my room, shaking uncontrollably, my face wet with tears.
The words echoed in my mind. Change your clothes. I looked down at myself. I was wearing black leggings and a sparse top. In an instinctive panic, I ran to the closet, ripped off those clothes, and put on sweatpants and a loose- fitting t-shirt. I didn't understand the full meaning of it. It was literal, symbolic. Confusion was a lump in my throat, but the fear of being left behind was the most overwhelming emotion I'd ever felt.
Life moved on, but the vision left a scar on my soul. I began to question everything. My lifestyle, my choices, but the pressure to maintain the image of a successful ministry was enormous. The church was growing exponentially, and Julian was hailed as a new prophetic voice in the city. I didn't want to be the cause of trouble. the legalistic wife who hindered progress. So I continued to play my part, smiling, wearing the fashionable dresses.
But the joy had faded. Each application of lipstick felt like an act of hypocrisy. The second morning was more intimate and even more frightening. One night, I went to bed
Chapter 5: Intimate encounters with God
wearing a silk lingery Julian had given me. It was a beautiful piece, and I felt sensual. I fell asleep feeling loved, but my sleep was invaded by oppressive nightmares. I dreamed of a shadow moving in the corner of the room, and the feeling of being watched was wrenched from my sleep by a crushing weight on my chest. It was a physical, real pressure. The air was sucked from my lungs. Panic paralyzed me.
I couldn't scream. I couldn't move. It was terror. A single phrase learned in childhood emerged in my mind. I cried out for the blood of Jesus. The instant I formed the name of Jesus in my thoughts. The weight vanished, evaporated. I sat up in bed, panting, my heart pounding wildly. The room was silent, bathed in the orange light of the street lights. Julian slept soundly beside me. What had that been?
Sleep paralysis. Since I'd read about it, I tried to convince myself it was. But the feeling of an evil presence, of a spiritual violation, was undeniable. Still, denial is a stronghold. I was married. After all, what's wrong with wanting to be desirable to my husband? I continued to sleep in my underwear and shorts, trying to ignore the fear growing in my heart. The next morning, I prayed with desperate fervor.
Lord, what is happening? Please give me answers. That same night, the answer came in a dream. This time, there was no terror, but an overwhelming holiness. A being of light appeared beside my bed. His presence filled the room with a peace that calmed my troubled spirit. It was an angel. His voice was like the sound of many waters, powerful yet gentle. the rine, he said, "And my name on his lips is a heavenly melody.
Do not sleep in scandalous clothing. You are the temple of the Holy Spirit. Remain holy at all times and in all your conduct. Do you know the hour the Lord will come for his bride? He may come in the morning, at night, or at dawn. He doesn't even know. Will a woman go up naked before God? Even dressed in these clothes, he who is holy sees the intentions of the heart. The bride must remain pure without blemish with oil in her lamp at all times so that her lamp does not go out and she is not surprised.
Every time you sleep like this, the angel who guards your sleep is ashamed and moves away and a demon approaches. The angel of the Lord camps around those who fear his word. Those who fear, obey and live a holy life. For those who fear the Lord, the angel does not move away. In Psalms 34:7, it is written, "The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him and delivers them. I woke with the angel's words burned into my memory.
Shame consumed me. I, the pastor's wife, was grieving the Holy Spirit and driving away divine protection because of my vanity. That morning, I cleaned house. I threw out all my sexy nightwear. From that day on, I slept in long, modest pajamas. It was a small change, but for me, it was the beginning of a revolution. A few days later, Julian and
Chapter 6: A vision of the afterlife
the church leaders organized a prayer vigil for deliverance. That day would mark my life forever. When my husband, the workers, and I began to cry out, I felt a powerful anointing descend upon my body. It was a weight of glory so heavy that my legs could not support me. Come out. Come out. My husband understood that God wanted to deal with me and continued praying with the others. What followed was not a simple fainting spell.
My body remained on the church floor, but my consciousness, my spirit was taken. I learned later that for all intents and purposes, I had entered a comeoma state that lasted 3 days while my body lay inert connected to tubes in a hospital where I was rushed. My soul embarked on the most terrifying and revealing journey a human being could experience. That night stretched for 3 days of eternity. I felt my spirit leave my body.
Suddenly, I was floating above myself, watching the scene from above. I saw the panic on Julian's face, the workers shaking me, and then as the paramedics arrived, they saw the body being placed on a stretcher. But I felt no fear. I felt a strange peace and the overwhelming presence of the angel who had appeared to me in my dream. He was by my side, his light protecting me from the confusion. The Lord commanded me to reveal things to you, hidden things you do not know.
He contemplated your innocence and saw your dedication. Therefore, the Lord commanded me to show you the mysteries of eternity. The angel took my hand and said, "Shall we descend to hell?" We descended downward. It felt like being sucked into a palpable darkness. We reached a dark place, an abyss of despair. My mind, once a refuge, became a battlefield. I was bombarded with feelings that weren't my own.
A paralyzing fear, a futile rage, a corrosive hatred, an insatiable hunger and thirst. Dot. I heard millions of screams, a symphony of agony that threatened to shatter my sanity. They cried out for help, for an end that would never come. Souls in human forms, more translucent and burning, clung to my spiritual feet, their faces contorted in silent supplication. burning bodies on one side and demonic creatures, indescribably grotesque forms, delighting in tormenting them on the other.
The heat was like being inside a sun, but the angel's light enveloped me
Chapter 7: The valley of lost vanity
like a cooling shield. I saw rivers of sticky fire, red and black, mixed with what appeared to be sweat of agony and spiritual blood. The smell of sulfur was so penetrating that it burned my spiritual nostrils. the smell of eternal death. The angel in his calm voice explained that God kept my senses intact, but kept them so that I could bear witness without being destroyed by the experience. There, faced with the ultimate result of sin, I regretted every breath I took that was not for the glory of God.
I saw people in hell wearing the same clothes they loved on earth. The fire consumed them, but they regenerated instantly in a cycle of endless torment. I asked the angel why the clothes, material things were there. The angel replied with infinite sadness. People who die in their sins carry everything with them. Their minds, their memories, their loves, their idolatries. These garments, you see, are the spiritual manifestation of their earthly identities.
They clung so tightly to the world that the world clung to them in condemnation. In heaven, there is nothing of the earth, only the white robes of fine linen given by the lamb. But in hell, the soul is eternally clothed in the rags of its rebellion. He pointed to a bleeding soul. It wasn't physical blood, but an essence of visible pain emanating from it. "What you see are spirits," he said. But the torment is so real that they suffer as if they had bodies of flesh and blood.
These clothes symbolize that they never put off the old self. As it is written in Ephesians 4:22, "As for the old way of life, put off the old self which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts. I was taken to a vast valley that the angel called the valley of lost vanity. It looked like a gigantic and macabra fashion district. I saw demons sewing and forging the latest trends on earth. Mini tops, tiny shorts, pants so tight they felt like a second skin.
Dresses with slits and necklines that left nothing to the imagination. And there in that valley were the souls of the women who lived for this fashion. Women who once paraded in oat couture gowns were now covered in filthy tattered rags, tormented by demons who mocked their faded beauty. The prophecy of Isaiah 3:24 unfolded before my eyes. In place of luxurious clothing, there will be sackcloth. I saw women who wore short skirts and tight dresses in hell.
Those same clothes seem to fuse to her spiritual skin, burning like acid, while demons pierced them with red-hot trident, screaming, "Did you enjoy attracting men's eyes? Attract our eyes now." My heart sank. I said to the angel, "I wear these clothes, and the church where I attend also dresses like this. Most Christian women I know dress like this." The angel responded with loving sternness, "Satan has been successful in blinding the church."
He convinced her that freedom in Christ is a license to conform to the world. Few churches still preach and live radical holiness. The angel then showed me something that chilled my soul. He took me to a session where there were countless souls of women who on earth
Chapter 8: Doors of condemnation
identified as Christians. They were not atheists or pagans. They were women who attended church, sang in the leather. They served in ministries and were lost. Why? I asked, my voice breaking. Why are they here? The angel then showed me three main doors through which many of these women entered hell. The first door was that of bitterness and unforgiveness. He saw a woman who on earth had been deeply hurt by her husband and people in the church.
She served God, prayed, and fasted, but never released forgiveness into her heart. She harbored the root of bitterness in hell. This bitterness manifested itself as thick, rusty chains that stuck to a rock. As the devil whispered in her ears the offenses she had suffered repeatedly throughout eternity. The angel said, "Many believe that salvation is a one-time event, but they forget that forgiveness is not an option.
It is a commandment. Whoever does not forgive their brother, the heavenly father will not forgive them either." Her heart became such hard ground from unforgiveness that the seed of the word could no longer sprout. The second door was that of gossip and evil tongues. I saw women whose tongues were now fiery serpents that turned against themselves, stinging them and injecting a venom of agony on earth.
They used their words to destroy reputations, so discord among brothers, and defame God's servants were women who appeared pious, always with a Bible in their hands, but whose mouths were springs of bitter water. The angel explained, "Death and life are in the power of the tongue. They chose to use their tongues for death and eternal death was their harvest. They didn't understand that blessing and curse cannot come from the same mouth and God does not accept divided worship. The third door and the one that shocked me the most was that of subtle rebellion.
I saw women who didn't commit major visible sins. They were devoted wives and mothers, but in their hearts they rebelled against the order established by God. I saw women who despised their husbands, who didn't submit to pastoral leadership, who lived in constant murmuring against the authority God had placed over them. In hell, they wandered an endless desert alone, always searching for something they would never find, tormented by a feeling of eternal dissatisfaction. The angel said, "Rebellion is like the sin of witchcraft."
Satan was cast out of heaven because of his rebellion against God's authority. These women by harboring a spirit of rebellion aligned themselves with the spirit of Satan. Dot even though their outward actions seemed righteous. They wanted God's blessing but on their own terms. They saw a demon in 4in high heels who was swaying. The angel said, "It's the demon of sensuality that inspires fashion shows and has already entered churches.
I saw demons of divorce taking joy in destroying families. We went to another
Chapter 9: Judgment of appearance
valley. I saw women who cut and dyed their hair go bald, tormented by demons who shaved their skulls to the bone. The demon mocked, "You like to cut your hair on earth. You will cut it here, too." Isaiah's prophecy was fulfilled in place of hair. There will be baldness. The angel said firmly, "Tell the church not to cut their hair and not to dye it." Hair was given as a veil. I asked about the ends, and the answer was serious and definitive.
Don't trim the ends of your hair. I saw makeup turn into acid, burning faces. I saw lipstick turn into worms. And for the beautiful dawn, there will be burning. I saw models and actresses who had plastic surgery being eternally operated on by demons with rusty instruments. I saw women who had silicone implants having their bodies ripped apart while the demons screamed, "This belongs to us. We invented it here in hell.
I saw a demon covered in perfumes and jewelry. The angel said, "The adornments of the body corrupt the heart and exalt the flesh. Remember Lucifer?" His fall began with pride in his own beauty. I saw luxurious perfumes turn into an unbearable stench. Fulfilling the prophecy. Instead of a sweet aroma, there will be a stench. I saw a woman with makeup on her face. The makeup turned to acid and her face melted and burned.
I saw a woman with red lipstick. Her lips fell off, leaving only her teeth. Another part of Isaiah 3:24 was being fulfilled. And instead of being a true coward, I saw models and actresses who had plastic surgery having their faces disfigured in hell. I saw women who had silicone implants. The demons ripped out their silicone implants and said, "This belongs to us. We invented it here in hell." All the fashions on earth were created by us.
I saw a demon with earrings all over his body. He had a huge one in his ear. Dot another on the nose, on a wrist full of bracelets, and a neck covered in chains. Dot. No vanity comes from God. And women were what Satan has released into the world. I saw demons cutting off fingers that were covered in rings with skull stones. I saw a demon cutting off the ears of women and men who wore earrings. I saw demons cutting off the heads of women with necklaces and men with chains.
The angel said, "The ornaments of the body corrupt the heart and exalt the flesh. They reveal what is in the heart." Lucifer was exalted when he looked at his glory and his body covered in precious stones. Ezekiel 28 hours 17 minutes says, "Your heart was lifted up because of your beauty. You have corrupted your wisdom because of your splendor." Dot. Therefore, I will cast you down before kings. I will make you look upon.
I saw high society women, models, and actresses who used luxurious and expensive perfumes to seduce men. There, demons poured acid and putrid substances from the abyss onto their bodies, and the stench of decay was unbearable. Those women could not accept that stench. After what seemed like an eternity of horror, the angel pulled me out of the abyss. I opened my spiritual
Chapter 10: Return to the living
eyes and was back floating above my body in the hospital bed. I saw Julian beside me, holding my hand, his eyes red from crying and praying. I saw a heart monitor with a straight line to the world. I was dead, but the angel said, "Your time has not yet come. Come back." I felt a violent tug, like being sucked back in by a vacuum cleaner. The first sensation was excruciating pain throughout my body, and then a rush of air filled my lungs.
I touched violently. The horrors burst open. The white fluorescent lights of the hospital blinded me for a moment. The beeping of the heart monitor returned. France Julian grid. A mixture of shock and joy. Nurses and doctors rushed into the room. I was back. The post coma was in many ways as challenging as the experience itself. Physically, I was weak. I spent weeks in physical therapy to relearn how to walk.
But the real challenge was mental and spiritual. The images, sounds, and smells of hell were etched in my mind. I had nightmares every night. I woke up in a frenzy of sweat. During the day, any loud sound or strong smell would take me back to that place. I was afraid to close my eyes. The world seemed pale and meaningless compared to the vivid reality. I had witnessed people's trivial conversations, their worries about work, money, entertainment.
It all seemed madness, a dangerous distraction from the only thing that mattered. The eternal destiny of the soul. I told Julian everything. He listened for hours in silence, his face changing from skepticism to shock, and finally to awe. He, a man of theology and reason, was confronted with a testimony that shattered all his categories of comfortable, culturally relevant Christianity. The Sunday after my release from the hospital, Julian took the pullpit.
He was no longer the
Chapter 11: A call to repentance
motivational charismatic preacher. He was a broken man, a watchman sounding the alarm. He shared my testimony with my permission and preached a message of repentance and holiness so cutting that the congregation fell into absolute silence. The reaction was an earthquake. They were furious, accusing us of legalism, of preaching a gospel of fear. Satan rose up with great fury. We gave friends, financial support, our reputation.
But others believed. They felt the weight of the truth. Our church, once a growing mega church, shrank to a small remnant. But in this small group, the power of God began to work in extraordinary ways. We built a bonfire in the parking lot where people weeping threw away their sensial clothes, makeup, jewelry, and secular music. It was an act of total renunciation. For 3 months, I struggled with the trauma.
The images and the screams wouldn't leave me. Finally, in desperation, I cried out to God, "Lord, if you don't take away this from me, I'll go mad." And he in his mercy didn't erase the memories but removed the terror leaving only the urgency and weight of my mission. God restored my mind. However, my chronic illnesses, migraines, and digestive problems persisted. I didn't understand. Then the Lord showed me in prayer that although I had cleansed my exterior, my heart still harbored routes of bitterness against all who had abandoned and mocked us.
I spent weeks in a concert of forgiveness, releasing each person before God. When the last route was pulled out, physical healing came instantly. On a day of prayer and gratitude, the Lord's voice came to me clearly. He told me I had only 15 years left to live, not as a punishment, but as a protection. He said that the attack Satan was preparing against me because of this testimony would be so intense that I could no longer bear it.
My time was limited. Lord Jesus, I surrender all the souls who are reading this letter are in the hands of God. If I am no longer on earth, may this letter circulate in many places, alerting the churches. Holiness is not an option. Forgiveness is not a suggestion. Submission is not cultural. These are conditions of the kingdom. Time is short. May all be in the peace of the Lord Jesus. A hug from your sister Thrine Dubo.
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