It wasn’t long have we returned
from LIFE ’72 that the Sarah issues were rising to the top again. I was really
at my wits end. I had prayed and fasted several times and few people I trusted
really wanted to talk with me about the situation. I did not know where to turn
for help. I no longer knew what to do. While there seemed to always be some
improvement and certainly many demons had been cast out, her troubles were not
over. I had reached the point where her troubles were my troubles.
Things were moving around in her
room again, or so I was told. I had never seen any of that. My experience was
limited to the look in Sarah’s eyes and the very masculine and dark, deep voice
emanating from her throat. I had seen what I was told were the after effects of
things being thrown around her room. Her mother had never actually seen things
moving either. I questioned on more than one occasion the truth of those
claims. On the other hand, I put nothing beyond the capability of Satan.
Della and I were praying that
Sarah would be completely delivered before we moved. We had about a month to
go.
In the midst of grabbing newspaper
to wrap breakable items, I caught a story in the Vancouver Sun about the police
consulting with and expert in demonic activity. I read the article and gave it
to Della to read as well. I grew up in a Pentecostal church and had almost come
to believe that they had a corner on resolving demonic issues. I was stunned to
read they were consulting with a Baptist missionary who had spent a great deal
of time in Indonesia. He was helping them understand satanic activity and
advising them. It was not real clear how he was helping, but I wanted his help.
I set the paper aside and dug
around to find him in a telephone book and see if he would help me and in the
long run — help Sarah.
I found him in Westminster, made
arrangements to bring her out two days later. The drive to his house was
exceptionally quiet. At our arrival small thin, and sweet appearing 70 or maybe
80-year old lady greeted us with a smile and a glow that warmed my soul. “My
husband in waiting for you in the basement.”
The basement was a large open area
sparsely furnished. He had set a card table in the center of the room and had
three chairs placed around it. We were seated and his wife took a seat in a
chair near the door. She held a pen and notebook in her lap. He began by
telling us that God had used him on many occasions to cast demons out. It was
not him that did it. He was only God’s instrument.
He began by asking us to place our
hands on the table. He prayed that Sarah would not be able to remove her hands
from the table until she was completely delivered and he told her that she
would remove them. He explained that would keep her from thrashing around and
hurting herself or us. I was mesmerized at we began. He was remarkably calm
praying prayers very similar to the ones I had prayers. He never raised his
voice, he never demanded, he never screamed – all things I had done at times.
He told Sarah that he was going to
ask the demons their names and their purpose. Each demon had a different
purpose and only one purpose. None had more than one thing for which they were
responsible. Gently he prayed that today would be Sarah’s final deliverance and
that she would have no memory of her possession or deliverance. He then calmly
asked the demons to identify themselves and as they did his wife was writing it
all down over by the door.
I had already figured there were
30-40 demons that had left. I did not think there would be many more. How many
demons could be in one person? One by one they came forward to be recognized
and cast into the pit of hell. I was stunned by the calmness with which it was
all happening. Sarah had tried to thrash about but it was like her hands and
feet were glued to the table and floor.
When it was over he told her that
she could move her hands now. She rubbed them like they were sore and looked
around appearing to try and figure out where she was.
He wife approached the table gave
him the papers she had written and took Sarah upstairs for some cookies and
milk. The missionary told me she was completely delivered and would never
suffer that torment again. She would not remember anything except coming to
their house for cookies and to get acquainted. He blessed me and said I could
release the burden I was carrying.
He then took the papers and
counted the total number —54. I was shocked. That meant there were over 80 or
90 total. “Isn’t that an awful lot? “Certainly but not unusual! She had given
her soul to Satan and the battle was raging for her eternity. Satan had no
intention of letting go. I made no demands, I simply told him what God had said
– You have no hold on the life if this girl, one of God’s children.
He then placed a small bowl in the
center of the table, took a match and burned the notes. I was disappointed, as
I wanted that information. He then said that if I had any written notes I
should destroy them immediately. They are Satan’s possessions and we were not
to have them.
We talked together upstairs
briefly and they told Sarah and I of their deliverance ministry in Indonesia.
We left and all that was said on the return home was that they were very nice
people. I was thinking that they never introduced themselves and I could not
remember their name or find the note with where I wrote their names, address
and phone number.
After telling Della what had
transpired, I went to get the article where I had found his name so I could
keep it. There was no name in the paper. It wasn’t there. The Vancouver police
were consulting with someone by it was not a Baptist missionary from Indonesia.
So how did I find him? How did I know his name long enough to find his phone,
call him and visit their home? What had God done?