You
don’t have to believe me, but this really happened. (Not talking about the Lego thing. I'm sure you figured that was real. I'm referring to what's coming up. And for the longer version of this story on my
other blog, click here.) And don't read this if you want to keep enjoying Halloween.
It
started on a dark night in the middle of nowhere, in the bluffs of Iowa, where
there are virtually no neighbors, no sounds, no cars going by at night. Pitch black, silent darkness.
We
were visiting my grandma for the weekend.
And before I went to bed that night, I watched a program on TV from
National Geographic. It was on the Codex
Gigas (aka “the Devil’s Bible). It
wasn’t a sensationalized show or anything, just a look at an old, mysterious
book. I really thought nothing of it at
the time. I was actually intending to
scoff at the program.
But
later that night (or the next, I can't remember), I was sound asleep in my room when I was suddenly awoken in
the middle of the night to the sound of screaming. Not normal screaming, mind you, but the sound
of thousands of people screaming out in pain all at once. A horrible, painful wail of humanity.
But
the sound wasn’t coming from outside.
It
was coming from inside my head.
No,
I wasn’t losing my mind or hallucinating (or whatever the hallucinating
equivalent is for hearing things that aren’t there). But I could clearly hear this awful screaming. And coupled with it was an intense feeling of
darkness, of evil.
I
had never experienced this before, so I did the only thing I could think
of: I called out “Jesus, help me.”
And
the sounds subsided. And I slept fine
the rest of the night.
But
that was just the beginning of almost five months of regular, nighttime,
demonic harassment.
Several times a week for the
next five months, I was woken up with various different sensations. At different times, I woke up hearing
screaming, feeling something heavy on my chest, feeling paralyzed, or (the
usual one) feeling like my body was being electrocuted by a bolt of lightning
or a blast of electricity. I would feel
this electricity and it would paralyze my body and mouth, making it hard to
call on the name of Jesus for a minute or so.
Many times, I could almost sense something in the room before I went to
bed, a chill or a presence.
Later on, it began to feel
more vivid and violent. Once, in my
“dream,” I could feel a snake-like demon wrap itself around my leg, which woke
me up feeling electrocuted. And another
time, I was “dreaming” that a demon was in the room, hovering over me in a
cloud of black smoke as I slept. I could
feel the intense hatred radiating from this being, as though he wanted to cause
me serious harm, but was prevented from doing so. And then, I saw these long, black arms reach
out to grab me, and immediately I felt the electricity and woke up. Other times, I could sense their presence as
I slept, without really “seeing” anything.
And just as I began to realize that I needed to call on Jesus for help,
I would feel the electricity and wake up and struggle to break through the
paralysis and make my mouth move again so that I could call on Jesus’
name.
There was one minor time when
I heard “thunder” in my ears (that rumbly sound you get when you yawn really
deep and long) after saying this in my dream, “You know the book that the guy
wrote about his trip to heaven … I believe him.” Immediately after saying that, the thunder
sound came and woke me up.
I’ve heard strange loud
noises just as I was falling asleep and crossing over from consciousness to
unconsciousness, like breaking glass or a cup of marbles being dropped onto a
sheet of metal. Weird noises that jolt
you awake but would have no real explanation.
(My husband experienced this around that time, too.)
I’ve had very disgusting,
bizarre images pop into my mind out of nowhere as I was falling asleep,
grotesque images of severed heads, corpses, and really strange images I would
never even think about imagining. And
they would come one right after the next, as I tried to focus my thoughts back
on the Lord. I believe these are
spiritual attacks, too, and not just “my own thoughts.”
And then there were a bunch
of disturbing times when I woke up feeling like something was holding my mouth
shut or sucking the air out of me or sucking my face up into a “vacuum.” One time, I woke up feeling like something
was choking me. I actually was fully
conscious, laying there and thinking, Could I be choking myself? There’s one hand of mine, but where’s the
other? Is it my own hand choking me? But it wasn’t; both of my hands were under my
pillow. And as I continued to nod off
again, I would feel the grip getting tighter and tighter. And then as I woke up again, it would
loosen. That only continued for a minute
or so, until I was awake enough to call out Jesus’ name. But it really bothered me to see how
“physical” it was getting.
While you may doubt it, I no
longer think that most of those “dreams” about a demonic presence were actually
dreams. (Hey, you weren’t there; I
was.) I know what a dream and a
nightmare feel like. And this felt
nothing like that. I never really jolt
wide-awake with a nightmare. Nightmares
are usually scary things that I can’t seem to wake up from. Or they simply play out for a little while,
then go away, and then I don’t think of them again until I wake up. But I do jolt wide-awake during these
attacks, feeling electrocuted and usually just as I realize there is a demonic
presence and I need to call on Jesus.
After really thinking them
over, I have come to believe that they are more like visions – an awareness by
my spirit of what is going on in the spirit realm around me, even as my
physical body sleeps. You don’t have to
agree with me, but this makes the most sense for me as I consider how it
happens and what is going on in my mind right before these attacks happen.
You might not think so, but I
believe the Bible when it says that angels and demons are real. And while they never really physically bothered
me before, I believe that I “invited” them in when I watched that program on
the Devil’s Bible. Maybe demons float
around, waiting for someone to roll out a “welcome mat” for them, such as
watching demonic things or engaging in occultic things. Or maybe they got bored of harassing cows out
there in Iowa. Either way, something
about watching that program drew them to me.
Gave them permission to harass me.
I don’t scoff anymore.
At one point, near the end of
the five months, I began to wonder how and where the “electricity” starts. Does it start in one spot, like my knee, and
spread? Does it come on slow or
fast? Could it really just be a residual
effect of a bad dream?
Well, one morning removed all
doubt that it might just be a dream.
I was lying in bed in the
morning, wide awake. The sun was
shining, it was peaceful, and I was just lounging when, out of the blue, I felt
like I got hit by a bolt of lightning.
It was fast and hard and fierce, almost to the point of paralyzing me and
making it hard to call on Jesus’ name, as it often was upon first waking up
that way. But the difference was that
this was the first time it happened while I was fully awake. So now I was absolutely sure that it couldn’t
be just a lingering effect of a bad dream.
These really were spiritual attacks.
And the weirdest “attack”
happened when I was waking up one Sunday morning. (Almost every Saturday night to Sunday
morning brought an attack, which was the first night that it happened, too. Odd!)
I was lying in bed with my new baby next to me, and my husband was up
getting ready for church in the bathroom.
As I laid there fully awake, I felt something creeping up the foot of
the bed toward me.
My oldest son (9 years old,
at the time) loves to sneak up on us whenever he can, and it felt exactly as if
he was trying to creep up our bed on his hands and knees. I could feel the mattress go down with each
hand or knee, and I could feel the edge of my blanket getting pulled under his
weight. And I popped my head up to catch
him in the act, but . . . there was nothing there. Hmmm, that’s odd! I’m absolutely sure that I felt
something.
I laid back down. And a few seconds later, it happened
again. This time, I sat up quickly, and
still I saw no one. How could he duck
and hide so fast? I looked on the
floor and around the bed to see if he was there and if he was just really good
at hiding. But, of course, he wasn’t
there. (And because we never could get
our box-spring up the tiny staircase, our mattress was on the floor. So there was nowhere to hide.)
I was baffled by this
point. And just then, my husband came
into the room to get his clothes. And
through gritted teeth, I told him, “Something invisible is . . . creeping . . .
up . . . the bed! I can feel it
walking up the bed toward me.”
Not surprisingly, he cocked
his eyebrows and looked at me with a skeptical, disturbed, you-must-be-crazy
look (meant in the most loving way possible, I’m sure). And he turned around and went back to the
bathroom without saying a word. (Can’t
you just feel the love and support?)
Now, why I didn’t get out of
bed at this point or call out Jesus’ name is a mystery to me. I guess I didn’t want to wake the baby yet,
and I was still trying to figure out what was going on. So I laid there a little longer. And it started again. But this time, I had heard the door creak
open first and then felt the mattress move.
This time, it’s my oldest son for sure, I thought. And he can’t hide now!
I waited until I felt the
creeping get up to my knees so that he couldn’t easily jump off the bed, and
then I flung my arms and legs around so that I could catch him in the act. And, yep, that’s right - nothing was there. It happened one or two more times before I
fully believed that it wasn’t just a brilliant trick by one of my kids. I think I just didn’t want to believe that
things like this would happen in the daytime when I was fully awake. (Oh, and my husband did tell me that he
opened the door just a few moments before . . . when I heard the door
creak. So there was an actual reason for
the creaking door. Thank God!)
I didn’t feel it again after
that, but I certainly wasn’t about to leave my baby up in the bed alone. So I woke him up and took him with me to get
ready for church. And I sang the Ghostbusters
theme song the rest of the day. I tried
to stop myself, I really did. But I
couldn’t, you know - with an invisible thing sneakin’ in my bed and all.
That was one of the most
disturbing moments because I began to feel like not only were my nights unsafe,
but now my days were, too. And it really
scared me. Were “they” able to do other
physical things, like push me down the stairs or smother me in my sleep? Would they hurt my children?
While
nothing more serious happened than all that, I do not scoff anymore about
demonic things. I do not tinker with
them. And that year I decided that my
family wouldn’t “celebrate” Halloween anymore.
I couldn’t ask God to protect us from evil while engaging in a “holiday”
that glorifies all things evil.
And
that is my real-life “scary” story, the reason we don’t celebrate Halloween and
how I learned to always be ready to say “In the name of Jesus Christ, I command
you to leave” when I woke up from demonic harassment.
Halloween
makes light of demons, of evil. But they
are very real. And they are anything but
fun. (Click here for a slightly cheesy song from my youth that you probably won't like but that fits right in with Halloween - "Witch's Invitation.")
