For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
New International Version
Demons are real.
While I could easily leave it at that, I can’t. Recent events have necessitated my posting this particular entry because I feel that the time has come to discuss these matters, and in a frank and practical manner. For some of you out there, this topic is the mark of a religious imagination gone wrong. For others, it is something only spoken of in hushed tones, preferably while the sun is still high overhead. No matter your perception, demons or unclean spirits are indeed real. They exist, and despite the best efforts of both secular and religious society they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Now some of you might be thinking of your quintessential demon, complete with horns and hooves no thanks to the Hollywood machine. Unfortunately, that is the work of an FX artist with a fertile imagination. Real demons don’t look like Freddy, Jason, or Pinhead although they are just as dangerous and deadly. To be blunt, nothing can ever truly prepare you for dealing with the dark side of the spirit world.
Not even this blog.
However, what this blog can do is give you a working, practical knowledge of this aspect of the Christian walk, and equip you with the means for dealing with malevolent entities. I base these teachings not on some formula, or magical method (more about that later), but on first-hand experience topped with a deep understanding of the word. I have witnessed the power of God manifest in situations involving the demonic, and I have also lived through the fallout of dealing with these creatures using the tools of the world instead of the word.
What you must understand, above all else, is that God is in control, that God is all-powerful, and that God alone can deliver you from these forces. What you must also realize, is that as bat-crap crazy as what I am about to write might sound, it did happen, there are witnesses, and if anything my story should serve as both a lesson and warning for those who are either 1) dabbling in the occult, 2) trying to exorcise the malevolent forces that stem from such actions, or 3) not sure just how bad things can get. If you’re still reading at this point, turn on all the lights, make sure the windows and doors are locked, and I’ll tell you how this all started.
In 1985, two years after I was born, my parents moved from Anchorage to a patch of land my father owned in the heart of Mat-Su. My childhood home, (which is still standing to this day), is located in a bucolic neighborhood sandwiched between Seymour and Visnaw Lake (pronounced “visional”) in an area called Meadow Lakes. It is nestled right in the center of the townships of Wasilla, Palmer, Houston, and Big Lake which you can see on Google Earth.
On the surface the place looks great, but it has a bad history that goes back centuries. Long before the first Russian and European settlers ever set foot here, the Athabascans avoided the region. On top of being the site of numerous wildfires, including the infamous Millers-Reach of 1996, the land is considered unholy or cursed. According to the tribal elders, [names withheld per request], the place is home to one of the largest spiritual vortexes in the Pacific Northwest. It is a gateway for malevolent forces to enter our world, and in all my years of study I have only found one other place with activity akin to what I experienced. That one, dubbed The Skin-Walker Ranch, is located in Utah, and is shunned by the local Ute for the exact same reasons.
Once I learned the truth about the area where this neighborhood is located, a lot made sense. Demonic forces can infest large parcels of land. Anyone who has ever been in a forest where one of these things is active, knows what I am talking about. When I was a kid growing up in those woods, I won’t lie, I encountered entities and phenomenon that defy logic or explanation. I’ve seen everything from giant wolves made of smoke, to floating balls of light, and massive shadow people walking amongst the trees. I’m confident that I’m not the only one who encountered these creatures, based on the number of abandoned homesteads.
The house where I grew up is located on the border of this cursed area, starting [location withheld], and ending near [location withheld]. I am sure the close proximity of this thing played a role in what I experienced in that house, and explains the large population of practicing witches. Yes, there were covens in the neighborhood where I spent my youth, and I’m not talking about the friendly ones either.
My father and I once stumbled across a pile of human bones that had been dumped in the woods, and found they were missing their skulls. Exactly twenty-four hours later when we returned to that spot, they were gone. For two weeks an unknown vehicle would tail my father whilst he was driving home in the evening, and during that same period an unseen force pushed him to the ground while he was working in the garden.
I kid you not.
For a time,( once the weirdness quit), we forgot about it until the summer of 1999 when we saw a large bonfire burning in the woods next to Seymour Lake while heading home. Slowing down, we were mid-rubberneck when the air was split with a terrible scream. It was human, and judging by the sound it was made by a woman in mortal terror. Concerned for the safety of his then sixteen-year old daughter, my father drove home, and called the police.
The next day, members of both the Alaska State Troopers and Wasilla Police Department were combing the area. According to the investigators who questioned my father, what they found looked to be the remains of an occult ritual involving either human or animal sacrifice. Given how many bodies and squad cars were roving through the woods, my guess it was the former. What came of that investigation, I do not know, but I know that from there on out my father became a very paranoid man.
To that end, I am writing this post to hopefully educate others about this phenomenon. Spiritual warfare tends to be one of those topics that falls into the same category as politics and religion – two things you don’t discuss in the workplace or in the presence of polite company. Especially when it comes to the darker side of the spirit world. Sure, talking about Hell and Lucifer are just fine, but demons?
Dropping that particular ‘d-word’ tends to earn you one of three reactions. Either 1) people think you’re absolutely nuts, 2) you’re one of those Christians who sees The Enemy in tater tots, or 3) you’re in cahoots with something ungodly. Rarely do I meet another brother or sister who has a healthy understanding of The Enemy, and the antics of his various minions. This is especially true in the literature for spiritual warfare, where there is a disproportionate amount of fear-based rhetoric. This is concerning, because fear is how The Enemy runs his kingdom, manipulates this world, and when we operate in fear we become vulnerable as opposed to finding strength in God.
As this series progresses, we are going to discuss these matters in further detail, but tonight – like with strongholds – we’re going to start with a basic overview. Namely, because I would like to provide brothers and sisters with not only a stronger grounding in the word, but a common-sense attitude and approach towards the unholy. The first thing you need to know, to take hold of, is who you are and who you serve. The second, is knowing what you’re dealing with, and how to get rid of it.
We are told in the Bible that The Enemy not only walks the Earth, but is aided by legions of unclean spirits. These creatures, called demons, are as dangerous as they are deceptive. Mind you, they are not something to be afraid of since fear gives them ground. Fear is their main weapon, but at the same time they are not to be ignored or trifled with. Demons have the ability to influence, oppress, and in rare cases – possess or kill human beings.
(According to Malachi Martin, author of Hostage of the Devil, and a Catholic priest versed in the rites of exorcism; what we typically call ‘possession’ is only ‘partial possession’ because there is a core soul that has not been subdued. True possession is where the host has made a conscious covenant with Satan for some sort of gain, and has purposely welcomed or opened themselves to demonic occupation. This is confirmed, ironically, by Aleister Crowley. The latter was not only a practicing Satanist, but wrote the infamous ‘Book of the Law’. It is basically a how-to guide for getting in good with The Enemy, and was dictated to Crowley by a demonic entity named Aiwass thought to be Lucifer himself since the creature shares the name with a fallen angel in the Kabbalah – an ancient Judaic book of ritual and black magic. If you take time to pay attention to the current state of our world, you will eventually notice that all of the major societies are operating on the basic tenet of ‘The Book of the Law’ which is ‘Do what thou wilt’.)
We are dual beings, with a physical and metaphysical nature, and the same is true for our world. Unfortunately, due to The Fall unclean spirits are a part of it, and can influence it as much as we can if not more so. Demons can feed on psychological strongholds, exacerbate physical and mental illnesses, manipulate solid objects, and injure, possess, or kill their targets. Christians need to have a basic understanding of the supernatural, and an awareness of the different ways demons can gain access to us, and those around us. I realize that most of you reading this will automatically jump to the occult as a means for welcoming unclean spirits into your life and home. Unfortunately, that’s not the only way in. True, it’s an obvious one, but not the only one since demons can also gain access through sin.
Is there any one sin that can let them in? No, and not all do, but sin of any form can become a gateway for The Enemy. Violent crimes such as rape and murder act as beacons for unclean spirits. Suffering of any kind, including illness, can attract them as well, and the list goes on because The Enemy is an opportunist. Does this mean that we need to overreact, and start having cows whenever we transgress? No, since correction can usually re-close that door before The Enemy can even get his foot past the threshold, but when you get situations like the house I grew up in you need to have some spiritual chops.
As I said before, my childhood home is still standing. I know, because I visited it this summer, and unsurprisingly the house at [location withheld] sits empty. According to the next-door neighbor, it was abandoned. Built in 1958 in Anchorage, the building is host to several demonic entities, and I believe that what was in that house exacerbated the Domestic Violence issues that plagued my parents’ marriage.
I remember my mother having entire conversations with what appeared to be a malevolent black shadow, and her obsession with the attic. The second story of our house was constantly active, with everything from disembodied voices, to loud footsteps that would cross the ceiling every night. My mother would spend hours up there, just sitting in pitch blackness, at the top of the stairs. What stands out is that even in that darkness, where you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face, she claimed she could clearly see me when I came looking for her without the aid of a light.
I’m not kidding.
My mother refuses to talk about these experiences. Either she changes the subject, or claims they are the product of an overactive imagination. Unfortunately, there are independent witnesses to the events that transpired in that house, and as of 2013 that list has come to include my husband who is the other admin of this blog. Although he didn’t see the same level of high strangeness, he sensed it when we visited the property.
The minute I stepped foot on the driveway, the atmosphere changed. What started out as a quiet, Saturday afternoon in July turned into an oppressive feeling of sadness mixed with fear. Even though it had been raining, it was about sixty-five, and the sun was trying to show through the clouds. Yet, the air was ice-cold, and as we moved around the property we could actually see our breath when we reached the backyard.
(Cold spots or unusual changes in temperature without a definitive cause (i.e. malfunctioning thermostat, rapidly changing weather patterns, etc…), are common when these entities are present. Not only that, they can create sudden spikes or drops in power (i.e. bulbs blowing out, new batteries going dead, etc…), and can mimic this phenomenon in humans. People who have encountered spirits note the appearance of goose-flesh, or the sensation of electricity running over or through their bodies. This is a best case scenario. In worst case scenarios, people have either collapsed, or passed out after something ‘drained’ them of their energy.)
After a mere twenty minutes, we left since Evan could no longer stand the eerie feeling he got as we walked around the outside of the house. Plus, we stood there and watched as all the windows turned pitch black on one side of the house even though the sun was shining directly into them. Keep in mind, Evan is an agnostic,. Things that go bump in the night are usually treated to a rational explanation, but after fifteen minutes he was done, and so was I. During the long drive back to Anchorage, I filled him in on the history of that place, and what I experienced while living there.
When my parents bought the house, they thought they were getting a great deal. It was cheap, my father already owned the land, and by the time I was sixteen or seventeen they had paid it off. However, during the nineteen years I lived there, our lives were besieged with events that defied explanation. The first real clue that something was off, came one afternoon when I was four, and sitting in my parents’ living room taking apart a metronome. I was trying to work loose the spring, when something like a loud ‘click’ sounded right behind my head. Surprised, I turned around, because I thought it was my Mom who used to pop her fingers next to my ear whenever she caught me red-handed.
Instead, I saw a face peering at me from behind the couch, and as I watched I realized that its head was oval with the crown and chin ending in points. The whole thing was sinister, with a pair of wrap-around eyes that were a bright green, but what did me in was when it smiled. All I remember was seeing two rows of long, needle-like teeth that were yellow, and that was it. I screamed like a struck pig, and ran for it.
Right after that, I started having nightmares, and seeing shadows in my bedroom at night. My Mom wrote it off as night terrors, and an overactive imagination. My father, for all his faults, believed me, and put in a nightlight. In less than a month, the man replaced nearly fifty bulbs, and bought six units that failed within two weeks of being purchased. Undeterred, he put in one of those purple strip lights, and sat up one night to see if I was messing with it because my Mom kept insisting I was shorting out the nightlights.
Because she kept seeing the shadow of a figure on my bedroom door moving around, right before the bulbs would pop. So, my old man stayed up. Later on, I learned this was because of his own suspicions which lay in something darker due to his experiences with both the supernatural and the occult. When my father was younger, he used to go ghost hunting with his friends, and ran afoul of an entity that nearly killed him. Out of deference to his final wishes regarding these matters, I will keep the story within the family circle, but I will say this -
Only a fool actively seeks these things out.
On the night in question, my father was sitting in the kitchen, in the dark, with his usual cup of coffee waiting to see if I was indeed fooling with the lights. My mother had gone to bed, but was still awake listening to see if I had been nabbed. Around two in the morning, I woke up because I was dreaming that something was watching me from the closet, and had run across the room towards my bed. I didn’t see what it was, but it scared me so badly I woke up in a fright.
For some reason, the minute I sat up, my eyes zeroed in on the door which had a small closet behind it. Realizing I was awake, my father had gotten up, and started creeping across the kitchen floor to catch me in the act. As he approached the door started to swing shut, but what he didn’t realize was that there was no one behind it. I know, because I watched it slowly swing forward until it was half-open, and when my Dad decided to make a dash for it the thing slammed shut with enough force to splinter the frame. Immediately, something rushed towards my bed, and as it passed the light the bulb actually burst with enough force to crack it like a spiderweb.
I have no idea what was in that room that night, but I do know that something was pawing at the sheets after I jerked them over my head, and only stopped when my Dad successfully kicked in the door which had been locked. For a whole five minutes, my Mom tried to argue that I must have done it until she got a look at the door frame, and realized there was no way a bedridden forty-pound kid with asthma could slam a door with that much force.
(I was seriously ill with an undiagnosed immune disorder for the first eight years of my life, and suffered from its effects until I was twenty-three when it was finally identified.)
It only went downhill from there.
I would see dark humanoid figures out the corner of my eye, both in broad daylight, and at night. Disembodied voices were a common occurrence, to the point my Mom was convinced I was either listening to the radio, or talking in my sleep. Neither were true. Not only that, she also started to have strange experiences of her own. One night, my mother woke to hear the front door open and close, and see the figure of a man walk down the hallway into my father’s bedroom (my parents slept in separate rooms). Thinking it was her husband, she got up to see if he was all right, and was greeted with an empty bed. Eerily, exactly thirty minutes later my father pulled into the driveway.
The pattern would continue until the man retired, after his death, and during the short six months my first husband and I occupied that house.
Not only that, all three of us, and later my younger sister saw one of the creatures who would appear as a dark figure with a triangular head in the attic. Of all the things in that house, that one was the worst. At one point, it even tried to follow me. Fortunately, I had just become a Christian, and was delivered into the care of other believers who were versed in dealing with such matters. After what I experienced, I am convinced that entity was able to influence, attach to, and to a degree possess both of my parents at different times. I believe that it was directly responsible for the rapid increase in the violence in their marriage, and I say this after something that happened when I was five or six.
Every Saturday, my parents would go for a walk in our neighborhood for exactly one hour. It was like clockwork. They would go for a walk, talk, and come home within that time frame. One afternoon, they went out, and didn’t return for hours. This was not normal behavior for them, and what stands out in my memory was that on this walk they were going to discuss seeing a marriage counselor in order to address the problems in their relationship.
My parents left at ten in the morning, their usual time, and did not return until nearly four in the afternoon. When they came back, they were not my parents. I do not say this lightly, or as some kind of theatrical statement. The minute they walked in the door, the first thing that went through my mind was, “These people are not my real parents.”
To this day, I believe I was right.
That day, my mother started physically and psychologically abusing me, and my father turned into a violent psychopath. Not only that, they stared dabbling in the occult, especially my mother. What really chills me is that normally when I was left alone in that house I would never leave my bedroom. I would sit there, on the floor, in my toy box with my dog, and just stare at the door because I could feel something watching me through it. Even worse, I would hear voices like people were talking in the house, sometimes, they would even sound like my parents, but whenever I got up the nerve to go look my dog would start growling and snarling at me.
So, I would sit in the toy box with her, and wait until they came home.
On the day when this all went down, the house was silent. I didn’t hear the voices, and went into the kitchen were I made a peanut butter sandwich that I shared with the dog. I even went outside, (which I wasn’t supposed to do), and sat on the back porch while our black lab relieved herself in the brush. The whole afternoon was surreal, until my parents’ came home, and things turned into a bizarre nightmare.
(The same year this happened, I started reading the Bible on a lark because I got the idea in my head that it was a storybook for adults. In hindsight, I realize that God – for whatever reason since I certainly wasn’t ‘saved’ – decided to protect me while I was in that house. Oddly, I was one of those kids who didn’t like picture books, so I wasn’t really put-out by the lack of illustrations, and while shopping at a local thrift store the manager offered my mother a set of books containing illustrated Bible stories for a mere dollar even though the whole set was marked for twenty. What spooked my parents was that the woman claimed that she felt God was telling her to give them to me, but she couldn’t just give them away because it was store policy. She could, however, cut them a cheap deal. Apparently, God decided to not only protect me, expose me to His word while he was at it.)
The entity with the triangular head was the one who would run across the floor all night, every night, and about two years after this happened my mother started spending hours upstairs, and even sleeping there. Once, when I crept down the hall, I heard her talking to someone, and I had barely turned around to go back when she punched me in the back of my neck. How she got down those stairs without my hearing her, I do not know. However, the look on her face I have not seen since, and what I saw in her eyes was not her. The reason for the blow? I was listening to her conversation with whatever the heck she was talking to, and she/it didn’t like it.
(There are several witnesses to the paranormal activity in that house, all of whom experienced the phenomenon in one form or another. My mother claims I fabricated this event, despite the fact that initial blow was what originally knocked my neck out of alignment before an accident several years later. My sister CJ also saw this creature after it possessed my dog, and tried to use the animal to attack her when she came into the house. Several of our friends, including [name withheld] heard the footsteps in the attic, and even saw the entity when it appeared at the end of the hallway where it stood watching them after the exited the bathroom. My first husband also encountered and witnessed this demon, and attributed a series of bizarre scratches to an attack from it.)
You would think all of this high strangeness would be enough to keep me as far away from the occult as humanly possible, but it didn’t. Instead, I started looking for God in all the wrong places, and ended up a practicing witch since the majority of local Christian crowd wasn’t particularly good in the whole witnessing department. I spent more time hearing about how God hated my parents for being a multi-ethnic couple, than I did the gospel. Thankfully, God put a number of strong Christian men and women in my path during my formative years, sowing seeds that I realize – in hindsight – were instrumental in my accepting Him later on.
In the meantime, I would cast spells, read tarot cards, and rely on my ‘psychic’ abilities to ‘read’ people and ‘energies’ in my environment. Never mind the fact that it was exacerbating a situation that I realize was part of a demonic attack. When I was thirteen, I encountered a being that appeared to me as an elderly man sitting on my father’s bed. At first, it looked like a kindly spirit until I looked closer. It had yellow eyes, like a snake, and when it smiled I saw those same needle-like teeth as the first entity that terrorized me when I was four.
(Prior to his death, my father revealed to me that this creature was a maternal familiar who would appear to the women in his family so that it could ‘breathe’ into their newborn children. My great-grandmother had offered her children to it, including my grandmother, but for unknown reasons when it came for my father and his youngest sister, she refused it. To this day, at least within the family, it is believed that her refusal to appease this creature was linked to the death of her older daughter – my aunt – from an aggressive form of brain cancer thirty years later.)
The minute it realized I could see it for what it was, its face turned malevolent, and it flew at me from the bed. I don’t remember if it touched me or not, but after that every single one of my health issues took a turn for the worse. I feel into a severe depression, I developed an eating disorder, and suffered from terrifying nightmares for almost four years straight. Events that culminated in an experience where God revealed His power to me.
By the time I was seventeen, the nightmares were constant, and increasing in severity. I once had a dream where a black figure was choking me in my sleep, and awoke to find bruises around my neck. I started getting the sense that whatever was in that house was trying to kill me, and frighteningly it actually confirmed this. Once, I awoke to the triangular-headed monstrosity standing next to my bed telling me it was going to kill me, and why? Because I was “dangerous”, and its job was to make sure I never left that house alive.
I kid you not.
The night before the beginning of the end, I had a dream where a five-horned demon tried to drag me into a lake of fire along with it. I admit, I actually peed myself from that one, and the following evening I heard the thing from the attic come into my bedroom. Scared to death, I started praying to God. Keep in mind, at that time, I had no idea who God was, or if He was even real. To be honest, I only really believed in God at that time, because I had read the Bible, and it seemed that He was the sort of God who liked losers. When I was a teenager, that was how I saw myself since I had virtually no friends, was trapped in an abusive home, and in an environment where I was constantly told [insert negative comment/observation/comparison here].
Stuck in a room with a killer demon, I started praying that if God was indeed up there, then do something. If not and I was indeed going to die, then at least have mercy on me because I figured He had seen my life, and the numerous short hands I’d been dealt. To this day, I have no idea what exactly happened, but I know that my room immediately filled with light, and a being that identified itself as an angel appeared.
Yes, I know how bat-crap crazy this sounds.
This entity proceeded to tell the demon in the attic to 1) leave, and 2) that all rights it had over my person had been cancelled. It was no longer welcome, and was forbidden to come near me. For the first time in four years, I actually felt a sense of peace, and slept like the dead until late the following afternoon. After that, things started to change in my life through a series of highly improbable events. For one, while watching Jerry Prevo of all people, I ended up saying the Sinner’s Prayer with a caveat -
If God could prove to me that Christ was indeed His son, I would follow Him wherever He led me.
For two, despite having dropped out of school for three years, and only three months into my return as part of my quest to graduate I received an $11,000 scholarship to the University of Alaska Anchorage. I started making friends, my depression and migraines went away, and I got over my eating disorder in less than six months. Not only that, no matter what sort of crap my parents threw at me in an effort to keep me from successfully escaping that house, I was able to overcome it. I have no explanation for these things, other than the fact that God was clearly moving in my life, and taking care of me even though it would be another four years before I would officially accept His son as my personal Lord and Savior.
In the meantime, since we’ve reached the end of this first post, I’m going to leave you with this -
Demons are real, Satan is real, but there is a power greater than they called God. It is through Him that all life flows, and it is through Him that we have victory over these entities, and it is through Him that we draw safety and strength. Ultimately, God is in control, and Satan is defeated. God is our protector and comforter, and it is through Him we find refuge and protection from these forces. It is He whom we must seek when in these situations because, honestly, He is the only one who can actually get us out of them. In the next installment, we’re going to get into the specifics of different types of demonic manifestations, and how to identity and address them per the Bible. In the meantime -