Refined by Fire

"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." - Ephesians 6:12

One of the greatest pieces of advice any writer is ever given is to write what you know. For the most part that is what Darbi and I set out to do with this blog - write and share our experiences in the faith on our walk as well as the unfailing love of Christ. But there is a darker side to following Jesus and devoting yourself to that path. One we as Christians don't often speak of as much because we fear the reaction we will receive - not just from the secular world, but our own family of believers. I have been sitting on the idea for this post for about two months now wondering if I should share, worrying about what my friends will think. And when I prayed to the Lord asking for guidance, his response was: Write what you know.

So I will.

Most of the people that know me will tell you I'm a pretty sensitive person. I have a lot of feelings, I react emotionally to situations, and I'm a bit of an empath. This means I tend to become overwhelmed by the feelings of others fairly easily, as well as other things that may be present that I only just now in this phase of my life have become aware of. Things I had always brushed to the side, thinking myself to be overly paranoid.

In September my daughter and I moved back in with my parents. It was a truly happy moment for me, not only because it affords me the opportunity to save for my own home, but also because my parent's house is my home base. It is a place of love, comfort, joy, memories and faith. It is the place I love being the most. But about two weeks after I had moved back in and gotten settled, I began to suffer in a very subtle way.

It started with my sleep. Like clockwork I began waking every night at 3 a.m., mind alert and heart racing, unable to fall back asleep for hours. I excused the first week of this, but by the end of week two I was sleeping through my alarm, dragging myself out of bed just to get in the shower. I had to stop my morning habit of indoor rock climbing, which I usually met a friend to do before work at 6:30 a.m. You can imagine how waking at 3 and not falling back asleep until 5:30 would throw a wrench in any hope of physical activity that early in the day.

Slowly this feeling of panic started to work its way into my waking life, and not only was I not sleeping but I frequently caught myself clenching my fists at work for no apparent reason. But then the worst possible thing began to happen - when I returned home, it was no longer a place of comfort. Something had changed about where I was living and I felt like a weight was sitting on my chest. The most alarming part of this for me was the resistance I felt within to read my Bible, which was my daily routine and something I love to do. Every time I reached for the Bible sitting on my night stand my hand stopped itself and recoiled in hatred. Hatred. I knew this wasn't me, but still didn't quite understand what was going on. I told myself that this was some form of anxiety that had manifested and went to the doctor. I was desperate for sleep, and so I agreed to drug myself up with Zoloft and Xanax in order to solve this problem. It wasn't until I traveled for work the following week that I understood that what I was dealing with was beyond the reach of any medication.

I'm not someone who "sees things" - I've never encountered a ghost. But as I mentioned earlier, I am sensitive. Though I spent most of my life not understanding this, it has taken on new meaning as of late. I realized I seem to have the ability to read a room, in other words, I can sense when something is off. I had always just chalked this up to being an anxious person, but after what I have experienced I no longer sweep it under the rug so easily. On one particular night as I slept soundly in my hotel room, happily in a sleep coma induced by Zoloft, Xanax, Melatonin and Advil PM, I awoke out of nowhere with a shock. I hadn't been dreaming, but my survival instincts kicked in and my brain shouted someone is here! My eyes flew open to find a figure standing over my bed in the dark, and the only thing I could think of was that I was about to die. That's how real it was. For a brief moment I believed someone had broken into my room and was actually there, standing over my bed. But just as quickly as I saw this figure, it literally dissipated before my eyes. It was gone. And I was left covered in sweat and putting the television on because I was too terrified to continue sleeping in the dark.

I didn't tell anyone about this for a little while for the obvious reasons. It's crazy. I requested prayer from Darbi because, as I stated simply, I felt oppressed. And her response finally made sense of everything for me.

"I believe there's an evil spirit residing in your parents home," her text read, "it's not particularly aggressive, but you have stepped on its toes."

Just like that, everything clicked. The waking at 3 a.m. every night, the anxiety and unrest I felt when I was at home, the strange apparition when I was traveling, the resistance to studying scripture. As soon as I read her words I knew she was right. I had returned into my parents home with my five different Bibles, study guides, ministry work and love for Jesus and was cramping the style of something else that had taken up residence in this home. My home.

The purpose of sharing this experience is to drive home the point that had I not been provided with the relationships or the resources that helped me to recognize this for what it was - spiritual warfare - I would have gone through drug after drug, method after method, seeking peace and finding none. And how often do we do this ? How often do we fool ourselves into thinking the problem is something that it is not? Of course I believe that all issues should be looked at from a holistic perspective, and I am well aware that a number of factors are involved with regards to my health and how they could be negatively impacting me. It is ignorant not to take into consideration all of those practical matters. However, often the battles we are fighting are disguised as something else. Something sneaky, something cloaked, something that prefers to hide. We assume it is like what we see in movies, right? Red eyes in the dark. Objects that move on their own. Possessions. Exorcisms. Wooden crosses. Holy water.

But the enemy isn't stupid. He knows you can't fight him if you don't know it's him. It's genius in its simplicity, which is why they say the greatest lie the Devil ever told was convincing the world he doesn't exist.

I won't say that this revelation has solved things overnight. It's taken time, with the Lord directing me to re-read the book of Job to provide an understanding of suffering. I know it's easy to question God and ask what purpose this all serves in the first place, why not make it go away? I am eternally grateful that he didn't - and that he hasn't. Without this I wouldn't have been forced to rely fully on Him, growing stronger in my faith, more convinced of my calling, and aware of the real battle I am fighting every day of my life. Without struggle there is no growth, and as it is said - if nothing changes, nothing changes.

Everyday we are being refined and lovingly molded, shaped by our experiences and our trials, bruised but alive with love and compassion to comfort our brothers and sisters. Suffering exposes both the worst and the best of us, but it is never in vain.

"I will not risk open war." - Theoden

"Open war is upon you whether you would risk it or not." - Aragorn