When I was faithful with a little, God gave me more– way more than I ever imagined.
That night, I went to work at the weekly prayer meeting we held every Friday. My job title was “director of prayer ministries,” but I felt more like the “prayer team gopher.” On a typical Friday night, I could be found taping up signs, running back and forth to the copier, arranging chairs, stacking chairs, dismantling P.A. systems…
I used to resent my role, but for some reason, I didn’t feel that way on this particular night, even though I was still doing my usual routine of menial tasks. I didn’t even get upset when other team members were mobilized to pray that night and I wasn’t; perhaps I had been convicted by the verse, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving” (Col. 3:23-24).
The prayer gathering ended at 9:00 P.M. I started cleaning up and was stacking chairs when, for the first time, I sensed genuine gratitude to the LORD for blessing me with the privilege of being paid to serve Him, even if it was just to push chairs around the church. I prayed, “God, thank you that I get to do this. I get to make a living by supporting other people to do ministry. I’m grateful to You.”
It was at that very moment, while contentedly wheeling around a dolly stacked with chairs, that I was approached by “Sam,” a member of the prayer team, and “Jordan,” whom I was acquainted with.
The sight of them approaching me was a moment of déja vu.
Sam and Jordan were the two individuals I had seen in my dream, just days earlier– the same look, the same hairstyles, even the same way they walked up to me.
I set down the chair dolly as Sam nervously asked me if I could pray for Jordan. I glanced at Jordan and said, “Sure, would you like to make an appointment?” Jordan met me with an empty, dark glare.
It was the darkness I had seen in my dream, and I recalled the words, “Look them in the eye and you’ll know.”
“Are you all right?” I asked. Jordan was trembling, unable to speak. I knew at that point that Jordan needed more than the usual, two-minute prayer of blessing and encouragement.
“Would you like to pray right now?”
Jordan nodded.
The leadership of the church was very protective of the privacy and dignity of those who would come for prayer. I didn’t want Sam and Jordan to be embarrassed, so I led them to the next room, where we’d have a little more privacy.
I asked Jordan if Sam and I could lay hands and pray. Jordan nodded, still unable to utter a word.
I didn’t know what to anticipate, but knew that we were in for something serious. Somewhat hesitantly, I placed my hand on Jordan’s shoulder and began to pray– I’d only gotten a few words into my prayer, coming before the throne of God and asking Him to lead us, when an inhuman, gravelly voice finally exploded from Jordan’s mouth.
“I’M GONNA KILL JORDAN!”
This was not Jordan’s voice. This was more like a roar.
This was my first encounter with a demon.
I had been trained by my mentor, Pastor Ed, on what to do in such situations, and as the demon kept shouting death threats against Jordan, I tried to remember what I had been taught.
“In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to stop,” I ordered the demon, rather sheepishly.
“NO! I’M GONNA KILL JORDAN!”
My mind stumbled around my memory banks, searching for other phrases to say when a demon is manifesting before your very eyes. I remembered another phrase that I’d been taught: “I take authority in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth, who came in the flesh…”
This only agitated the demon more, causing Jordan to thrash violently with a feral, guttural scream.
I decided to crumple up my mental playbook and turn to the LORD instead, silently but desperately praying, “God, I don’t know what to do here. You really need to help me.”
At that moment, I felt a surge of power fill my entire being, like a rushing wind filling me from behind, blasting through me. You know the lyrics from the song, “Consuming Fire?”
“Come like a rushing wind, fill us with power from on high.” That’s literally what it felt like.
My own spiritual baggage was driven out of me in an instant, unable to exist in the overwhelming presence of the Holy Spirit– I felt like a clogged pipe being forced clear by a fire hydrant. And before I knew it, I heard a powerful voice, filled with authority, coming from my lips and commanding the demon in an unknown tongue. Though I couldn’t understand the words, I somehow understood that the Holy Spirit was telling the demon to bow before Jesus and let Jordan free, or else.
The demon immediately stopped shouting and began to submit to the commands coming out of my mouth, but in a voice unfamiliar to me. It was loud, but not frightening like the voice coming our of Jordan. It resonated with power and authority that was not of me. Although I was fully conscious and never lost control of my thoughts or actions, I felt at times as if I were a backseat passenger in my own being, watching the Holy Spirit take control of the wheel.
For the next minute or two, I began to pray with a confidence I had lacked until this sudden filling of the Holy Spirit. I prayed in English and began to lay down some rules to the demon, forbidding it from hurting or embarrassing Jordan, from making Jordan sick or throwing up, from preventing Jordan from speaking, and so forth. The demon complied, but then tried to pull a fast one on me.
The darkness fell from Jordan’s countenance a little too quickly. “It’s gone. I feel better,” said Jordan in a feeble voice.
I wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure?” I asked. Jordan nodded in a huff and tried to brush past me, avoiding eye contact. I remembered that in my dream, there was something significant about eye contact, so the averting of Jordan’s gaze was suspect.
“Wait. Let me close the prayer session then.”
Jordan reluctantly agreed.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a vial of anointing oil that I kept on my keychain. Upon seeing this, the dark presence immediately overcame Jordan’s face, and I knew for certain that the demon had lied about having left.
I didn’t understand exactly what anointing oil was for or how it was supposed to be used, but I did know that the oil itself had no “magic” powers and was not to be idolized like holy water. I carried a vial of anointing oil around because James 5:14 says to pray for the sick and anoint them with oil.
I unscrewed the cap, dabbed a bit onto my fingertip, and began to anoint Jordan on the forehead. Jordan flinched as if the oil were some flaming, corrosive substance and resumed thrashing, wailing, and shrieking full-force.
Sam and I continued praying for Jordan, commanding the demon to leave. It refused. I felt compelled to ask its name.
“You already know my name,” replied the voice wafting from Jordan’s lips.
I had this sense that it was the spirit of fear. I asked, “Are you the spirit of fear?”
“No,” replied the demon.
“I forbid you from lying,” I commanded. “What is your name?”
“Fear,” it confessed without hesitation.
Was this really happening?
Here was a mild-mannered person, Jordan, manifesting a violent demon that was submitting to my commands, not because of who I am or what I said, but because I was praying in the name of Jesus Christ. I was seeing for myself that Jesus really does delegate authority to His followers to drive out demons (Mark 3:15, Luke 9:1, Mark 16:17). Witnessing the truth of Scriptures in that moment led me to an important conclusion: if this part of the Bible is true, the rest of the Bible must be true as well.
I won’t go into details of how we prayed for Jordan’s deliverance, other than to say that the way to counter the lies of the devil is to speak God’s truth to the person.
After ordering the spirit of fear to leave, other demons began to manifest, and I began to pray for discernment on what kinds of spirits these were so that Sam and I could pray against them and command them to leave. I felt like I was in over my head and was hoping for some help.
Just then, Pastor Ed peered into the room. I was relieved, thinking he’d take over, but he withdrew and disappeared, leaving Sam and me to continue. I guess he thought it’d be a good experience for us– Ed was always very good at empowering the leaders that he raises up.
Throughout this ordeal, it was evident that the demon and Jordan were two different beings, and that it was the demon, not Jordan, who was an enemy of God. As Sam and I engaged in a spiritual battle to win Jordan back, I got the sense that Jordan was a loved child of God who had opened the door to demonic activity because of self-condemnation over sins of the past. I reminded Jordan that in Christ, our sins are forgiven and we are made white as snow (Isaiah 1:18). I would alternate between commanding the demon and encouraging Jordan, much like one encourages a mother in labor, telling her she’s doing great, trying to keep her calm despite the pain.
This experience was not at all like the exorcisms I’d seen on television. It wasn’t horrifying, and I didn’t think Jordan was creepy. If anything, I got the sense that Jordan was a child of God who had been abducted and the Father was fighting to get His child back.
At one point, I got a strong impression that Jesus was standing right in front of Jordan with open arms, waiting for this child of God to break free of the demon’s grip. And not a few seconds after getting this impression, Jordan lurched into a deep bow, forehead nearly to the floor.
The demon’s voice struggled to escape Jordan’s vocal cords. “What are YOU doing here?”
“Setting the captives free,” I heard the voice from my mouth say.
I didn’t have the time or experience to deliver Jordan completely from spiritual oppression that night, but Sam and I were able to at least shut down demonic activity and stop it temporarily. The full deliverance would take multiple prayer sessions amounting to dozens of man-hours, with Ed leading and Sam and me assisting. Watching Jordan “throw off the things that hinder us, and the sin that so easily entangles” (Heb. 12) was a beautiful process, like seeing a rock polished into a gemstone, revealing its true, God-given beauty inside. The words from Isaiah 61:3 continued to resonate:
“and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.”
I don’t think it was a coincidence that the day I began deliverance ministry was the same day I finally expressed gratitude to God for the work He had given me. When I showed faithfulness with a little, God entrusted me with more.
“His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’ (Matt. 25:21 NIV)
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