Today was an interesting day. I preached at Sakanvil Church of Maranatha. I preached on the call of Moses in Exodus 3 and God’s call to his Church to be an agent of redemption in the lives of his people who are suffering. Prior to going to the pulpit, however, there was some commotion in the church entrance. Turns out it was a demon-possessed lady drawing a great deal of attention.
I felt lead to invite her into the church.
I got up from my seat to speak to her and she was completely coherent, which came as a surprise because how she was dressed and her posture clearly indicated that she was demon-possessed.
“I can’t go in there. People are evil. They won’t let me in,” she told me.
“I understand, but just come in and take a seat.”
As she sat on the bench, the other folks on the bench scattered while those around snickered and pointed fingers.
This was disappointing.
Phil, who was sitting behind her, came to me and asked me if I could translate a conversation for him with her after the service.
“Of course!”.
I preached, it went well, and the service closed.
As the service ended, Cammie approached her and invited her to their home for a meal after the service. After some confusion, she agreed.
The more we talked with this woman on our short walk home from the church, the more confusing things became. It became evident that she would experience fleeting moments of clarity, but the rest of the time she would simply speak non-sense.
The Aberles bathed her, fed her, and gave her new clothes (she was in rags). Phil spoke with her through Cammie, asked some pointed questions, and they paused for a meal.
After the meal, Junior and I joined them in the effort to get to the bottom of her possession.
What did God want to do here?
As we asked more questions, the demons came to the surface. They were especially belligerent towards Junior. They did not want Junior anywhere near this woman. All Junior did was pray under his breath. He would occasionally pause and whisper in my ear.
“There are two demons.”
“Get that necklace and bracelet off of her.”
I told her that we were going to pray for her. She got on her knees and before putting her face to the floor, she removed the necklace on her own. She tossed it on the floor.
“I found this outside my house and put it on.”
This is common in Haitian voodoo. A fetish with a spell strategically placed to be assimilated. She undoubtedly knew this in choosing to put it on. There’s no doubt that when she saw this on the ground outside her door that she knew it was possessed. Putting it on welcomes possession.
We prayed for her. Nothing unusual happened.
“You’ve got to get that key off her wrist,” Junior whispered to me.
“Do you have anything else you need to give us?”, I asked.
Pointing to the key on her wrist she said, “I have this, but god gave it to me and I can’t give it to you.”
“Which god gave it to you,” I asked.
“There are many gods according to the Bible,” she (the demon) responded.
“You’re lying, there is One True God according to scripture,” I corrected.
“God knows,” she smirked.
This is a taste of much of the conversation. Going in and out of sensible speech, giving us many different names, said she was from many different places, just plain confusion. At times, in fact, she spoke perfect English.
To finish without going into all the details, the successes were that Phil was able to burn her old clothes (which were given to her by a witchdoctor), necklace and key bracelet. She was loved, bathed, fed, and prayed for. She lacked, however, the will to be delivered, which in this case, was obviously necessary.
In the end, we did as God asked by shining light into a dark world, even if for a short time.
Pray for our friend Mimouz.