Deliver Us From Darkness
Page 28
“Brent I’d like for you to change positions with Karen. I’d like Tara to be in the hands of two women during this prayer. No offense, it’s just a spiritual precaution.”
“Uh… sure,” said Brent. Changing places, he took Marta’s hand, then Karen’s.
Pastor Jonathan then asked George if he would open the evening in prayer.
Brent closed his eyes and heard George’s rich baritone voice begin, “Most high and holy God, we come to you in the matchless name of Jesus, the Christ, our Savior and Redeemer…”
Brent heard what sounded like a wince of pain from Tara. He opened his eyes to see Jenni lean over to her and speak something softly into her ear. Tara’s face relaxed and she nodded.
“… This night, we come to you expecting your mercy and power and love to shine through like a blazing beacon, like a lighthouse pushing back the night, producing a great hope of safety in a troubled sea. Holy Spirit, you are Tara’s friend. You have taken residence within her because you want to be in her. You are especially fond of her, and along with her spirit you want to be her body’s only other resident. We ask you to prepare the ground upon which we tread tonight, upon which the battle is to be engaged. Jesus, our mighty conqueror, hear us tonight! This battle is yours! We fight for your kingdom tonight, for this precious young woman who has accepted your offer of salvation. Lord Jesus, she has been faithful since that day. She has been fighting these demons the best she knows how, and she is determined that her physical body—your temple—will be rid of them forever.”
George paused for what seemed a good sixty seconds. Brent wondered if he meant for people to just start praying as they felt led, but then he spoke again. “Tara, is there something on your heart that you’d like to speak to the Lord right now?”
Brent wanted to open his eyes, to look at Tara. But he didn’t want to violate this intimacy should she, too, have looked up at that moment. He heard her begin with a hushed voice. “Uh … Jesus…” Her voice faltered. “Umm… I love you. I love you. I love you.” The first sob broke through. “I … I’m so scared right now. Please, please, let what these people have been saying be true. Please, Jesus, rescue me. I need this to work. I so need you to be here for me. Jesus, I know you’re real. I’ve felt you. I’ve experienced your grace after all of the …” She stopped to compose herself. “… oh God … after all of the horrible things that I’ve done. Some of them to your own followers!” Her voice was getting stronger.
“Father of light, you overcame the darkness in my life. You accepted me in spite of all of it. Tonight, I pledge to you—in the company of my friends—my life. I am yours. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I now renounce every single evil spirit contained in my body, the temple of the ...”
Suddenly Brent heard a thud and a strong vibration in the floor. He and the others looked to where Tara had been standing. She was grabbing her abdomen with her right hand and arm, her other hand was planted on the floor in front of her. Jenni and Marta began to drop to their knees and put their hands on her shoulders. Tara responded by sitting up and getting on her knees. She spoke in a strained whisper, “No … no … you’re liars! You will not win tonight!” She winced again and then looked like she was about to retch.
The rest of the group began to walk toward her and she put up a hand to stop them. “No, I’m okay. It’s just my old ‘friends’ acting up.” Then she looked up to the ceiling and called out, “Jesus, I love you! You! I love YOU!” She thrust her hands into the air and yelled, “Jesus! I will not allow these … these things to win! Karen told me on the way over here that I need to put fear aside and be willing to let everything be exposed. I need to be willing to let you win this battle for me. I’m yours, Lord! I’m yours!” Without warning, Tara lurched forward onto her stomach and began to convulse.
George hit his knees beside her and directed Jenni and Cheryl to help him turn her over onto her back. Tara’s back immediately arched, her stomach stretching toward the ceiling. Cheryl brushed the hair away from Tara’s sweat- glistened face.
Someone in the room gasped. Exposed by eyelids opened wide in terror were two eyes completely rolled back revealing nothing but white.
Shock and fear permeated Brent’s body. His gaze shot upward to Marta, who with her right hand covering her mouth, stifled a scream. Brent was still standing in his original prayer position unsure of what to do. He’d been warned that things like this were likely, but…
“Brent, grab your Bible,” said George. “Open it to Psalm 91, verses fourteen through sixteen.”
Brent rushed to the couch and grabbed his Bible. He fumbled with the zipper where it had caught the ribbon bookmark. Great! Come on! There’s no time for this! He finally pulled it past the ribbon and around the cover. Opening the Word he landed in the heart of the Psalms. He quickly found Psalm 91—Mamaw’s Psalm for me!—and hurried back to the others who were kneeling on the floor. “Got it!”
“Brent, we want to begin speaking life over her. This is a great place to begin. Personalize it for Tara. Change the hes and hims to shes and Taras. Understand what I mean?”
Brent looked at the passage and took hold of what George was saying. “Yes, I understand.”
“Okay, start reading it out loud. Be as aggressive with its use as you feel you need to be.”
George and Pastor Jonathan laid hands on Tara’s head. The ladies laid their hands on her abdomen and began praying. He could hear that Pastor Jonathan was praying in the Spirit as was one of the ladies. Marta was coming to grips with the situation and lent her hand to the mix. Pastor Jonathan took the lead in prayer.
“Father, we first give this situation to you. This is not beyond your strength and knowledge and wisdom, all of which we call upon now.” Then his voice became assertive and powerful. “Foul spirit that is causing Tara to convulse, I bind you in the name of Jesus! Release her now!”
Brent saw her body relax for a moment, her back falling flat against the floor. Then with another fit of spasm her stomach arched upward again and a scream escaped her mouth. “AAAHHH!”
“Brent! Don’t look, read!”
Brent looked at George for a moment then his head cleared. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.” He momentarily studied the three Scripture verses and began. “‘Because Tara loves me,’ says the Lord, ‘I will rescue her; I will protect Tara, for she acknowledges my name. She will call upon me, and I will answer her; I will be with Tara in trouble, I will deliver her and honor her. With long life will I satisfy her and show her my salvation.’”
In the midst of what was going on, the words of that passage were not lost on Brent. Without being urged to do so, he spoke the Word again with more power, making little changes that he believed would produce an even stronger impact.
“‘Because Tara loves me,’ says the Lord Jesus Christ, ‘I will rescue her; I, Jesus, will protect Tara, for she acknowledges my name. Tara will call upon me, and I will answer her; I will be with Tara in trouble, I will deliver her and honor her. With long life I will satisfy her and show her the salvation of her God!’”
Again, Brent spoke the words. Again, he changed them slightly, feeling the Holy Spirit fill him and lead him.
“‘Because Tara loves the Lord Jesus Christ, she will be rescued! The Savior Jesus Christ will protect Tara, for she acknowledges his name. Because she called on Jesus, he will answer her! Jesus, the Christ, will be with Tara in this trouble! He will deliver her from darkness and honor her! Tara’s life will be long and Jesus, himself, will satisfy her and show her his salvation!’”
As Brent continued to read the authoritative Word of God aloud, Pastor Jonathan was taking the authority given to him and wielding it like a finely-honed weapon.
“Spirit, silence! Cease in your activities in Jesus’ name!”
Again, Tara’s body relaxed. She lay panting on her back, beads of sweat now beginning to run down into her hair.
Pastor Jonathan looked at his wife. “Jen, is the Lord giving you any discernment?”1
“Tara? Are you okay?”
She didn’t open her eyes, but simply nodded.
“Honey, did you hear what I said about rejection?”
Tara clenched her teeth and nodded again.
“Do you know what might have opened the door to it?”
Tara’s response was to stick her tongue out at Jenni. She drew her hand up to stick her thumb in her mouth, but Cheryl gently brought her hand back down to her side.
A male-like laugh belched out of Tara. “Haahaah!”
“Spirit,” exclaimed Pastor Jonathan, “I bind you, in the name of Jesus!”
The smile left Tara’s face. She opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times. “I’m not liking this,” she said softly.
“You’re doing great,” said the pastor. “Can you answer Jenni’s question?”
Tears filled Tara’s eyes and she nodded slightly. She composed herself before speaking. “My dad…” She stopped.
Marta looked from Tara to Pastor Jonathan. “May I?”
He nodded his consent.
“Tara, you began telling me about your dad. Can you tell me the rest?”
Tara looked at Marta and the tears in her eyes became glassy pools that spilled down both sides of her face. Cheryl grabbed a box of tissues, took one, then wiped away the streams.
“My dad… daddy… left me.”
“How old were you?”
“It was just before my thirteenth birthday.” She sobbed. “Why did he do it? Why?”
Marta felt the next question was important to ask. “You never spoke with him again?”
Tara’s head suddenly craned backward, her back arched again, stomach jutting high in the air. Another hideous laugh. “He is ours!”
Instead of silencing the spirit, the Pastor commanded an answer of it. “I command you, in the name of Jesus, to answer my question truthfully. Who are you speaking of?”
“The witch’s father! He is ours,” the spirit spat.
Another voice, this one high-pitched, came out of Tara and proclaimed with glee, “I did it! I did it!”
Jenni looked at her husband with mournful eyes and said, “Spirit of suicide.”
He nodded.
Brent choked up. “Oh God,” he whispered.
The young pastor once again asserted his authority in Christ. “Spirit of rejection. I bind you. I shackle you with strong chains. I command you to be restrained and silent. In Christ’s name, I command you. Spirit of death, of suicide, I command you to be silent, in Jesus’ name!”
Tara went limp like a rag doll. Again she was panting.
Pastor Jonathan addressed the group. “Okay, we know some of the spirits that we’re dealing with. Cheryl, will you grab a pen and paper off of that table over there?” As she got up he continued. “We’re going to do our best to determine the hierarchy4 here. Taking out key characters can cause others to leave without having to be identified. But I want to make sure that any that do identify themselves are dealt with specifically.”
Cheryl was back. “What do you want me to write?”
“The strongman is rejection. There’s also a spirit of suicide. We know that there is a spirit going by the name Shalinar. She also has at least one spirit of witchcraft. Witchcraft is almost always a follower of a spirit of rebellion, so put that spirit on the list, too.”
Turning his attention back to Tara, he asked, “Tara? How are you doing, young lady?”
Tara momentarily pursed her lips then gave a slight nod.
“Okay, I need a little more help. Can you answer another question or two?”
She nodded again.
“Tara, did you have sex as a part of your rituals or to gain more control or more power?”
She delayed in her response, but after a couple of moments she whispered, “Yes.”
“Thank you for being honest. It’s going to make all of this easier. Don’t give in to a temptation to lie. We’re all friends here.” Pastor Jonathan took that opportunity to look at everyone, making eye contact, to ensure that everyone understood the sensitivity of what was being revealed.
Brent nodded. He noticed that the others did the same.
Tara cleared her throat and whispered, “Thirsty.”
Immediately, Karen got up and poured a glass of water from a pitcher that had been brought for that very reason. She returned to Tara and Jenni lifted her head. Tara took the glass in her hand, but it shook too much and water began to slosh out. Karen steadied her hand and helped guide the glass to Tara’s lips. She took a couple of swallows. “Thank you.”
“John,” said Jenni. “I believe there is also a generational curse here.”
“Can you be more specific?”
Jenni began to shake her head when Karen spoke up. “I believe the Lord was telling me the same thing. It’s like it’s…” She shook her head, unable to come up with a concise word. “It’s like it’s cultural or something.”
Pastor Jonathan thought for a moment. “Tara, is there a history of witchcraft in your family?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” she responded in a stronger voice.
Karen remembered something; the triskele tattoo on Tara’s right shoulder blade. She looked at the pastor. “Can I ask her a question or two?”
He nodded.
“Tara, your tattoo. It’s Celtic, I think. Are you Scottish?”
“Yes. On my mother’s side. My dad was part Scot, too.”
“How about Stephanie?”
Marta looked up at Brent who just shrugged.
“Yes. In fact, she made a big deal about my heritage when we first met, asking all kinds of questions. At the time it just sounded like she was enjoying that we both had Scottish backgrounds in common.” Tara looked up at Karen who was scrunching her brow. “Why? What are you thinking?”
Karen looked back at Pastor Jonathan. “Tara was being groomed as part of a coven. Stephanie was her priestess and mentor. The Celtic tattoo that Tara has is like the one she saw on Stephanie.” She proposed an explanation. “A coven of witches with only a certain cultural heritage?”
Pastor Jonathan looked at George who shook his head, not having an answer. “Okay, good. Good discernment, Karen.”
He spoke to the group. “It sounds like we may be dealing with a form of SRA—satanic ritual abuse. I know Tara wasn’t a Satanist, but she was part of a coven that was full of ritualistic, and apparently, sexual practices. Sex is a very effective means for passing spirits from one host to another.”
Tara’s face showed that she was uncomfortable with what had been revealed about her. Cheryl leaned down and said, “Remember what the Bible says? ‘There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.’ Sweetheart, don’t be embarrassed. Don’t give into self-loathing. Not one of us in here hasn’t made self-serving, harmful decisions. Okay?”
Tara whispered an “Okay” and gave a slight nod.
Pastor Jonathan went on. “The first thing that we need to deal with is the generational curse. Think of it as a sort of spiritual doorway and container that made it easier for the strongman to enter. We collapse that first, then we deal with the strongman, himself.”
Tara began gagging.
Jenni began to turn Tara’s head to the right. “George will you help me roll her onto her side, toward Pastor Jonathan?” As they began to move her, Jenni asked, “Cheryl will you grab the towels over there?”
Cheryl moved right away and quickly came back with the towels.
Taking one of them and folding it, Jenni placed it under Tara’s head allowing Tara to expel any fluids. Jenni leaned down toward her. “Tara, it’s okay. You don’t have to fight to keep anything in. We’re prepared for this. The less you fight, the sooner you’ll be free. Many times a demon will come out through vo
miting.”
Tara’s eyes were closed, but she again nodded.
“Okay, everybody,” said the pastor. “Ready to set this princess of God free?”
The seven in attendance around Tara voiced their “yeses.”
Tara wasn’t going to be left out. “Yes. Get’em out.”
Pastor Jonathan smiled. “You got it, sister!”
1 Go to Appendix B for biblical information on “Discerning of Spirits”
2 Go to Appendix B for an explanation of the scriptural term “Words of Knowledge”
3 Go to Appendix B for biblical information on the “The Strongman” and this demon’s role in plaguing a person’s life
4 Go to Appendix B for information on demonic hierarchies.
The process was labored. The demons were holding on, some of them shouting that they had a right to be there.
Did they? Was there something that hadn’t been revealed that gave them something on which to hold?
Pastor Jonathan had halted the attempt to cast the demons out. It was exhausting Tara and they seemed to be getting nowhere. He asked the women to softly sing some hymns over Tara, one of which was “Oh, The Blood of Jesus.”
He paced around the room praying for a revelation.
Brent and George were kneeling a little ways off interceding for Tara and the desired end result.
“Father,” Pastor Jonathan prayed again, “What are we missing? Please, Lord, help me to hear you. Holy Spirit, help my mind to be quiet enough to hear your voice.” He leaned backward against a bare section of wall. Wrapping his left arm across his chest, he pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand. Peace be still, he thought to himself. Shh… quiet.