Unworthy. Sinful. Self-righteous. Hopeless cause.
I grew up in a Christian household. And by that, I mean I grew up in. A household that seeks to honor God, to the best extent that can be done so as a human. I grew up in church. I grew up in Christian based school, and in homeschooling.
At a youthful age I began to notice that I was sensitive to the spiritual world, that marvelous other world that exists both within us and outside us. I started being able to see things differently than my peers. I mentioned some of these things to my father, who told me I couldn’t talk about it at church. Spiritual gifts, one would think that church is the first place you could talk about these things.. apparently not. So, I let it drop. And took it upon myself to learn how to use my gifts. The bible wasn’t helpful in this endeavor. So I just started willing my gifts to work. I didn’t ask my father. I just did what I felt best.
This lack of guidance started me into the becoming of a solitary witch. I needed no one. I could heal sickness with laying hands. I could discern thoughts. I could prophesy the future with accuracy. I could feel how the flow of the spiritual world affected the amount of power I could wield effectively. I could even damage my body in order to affect the weather directly around me.
But you know what that’s all called? Witchcraft.. or spiritual prostitution. You have to pay for this power. And the price will always be more than you think, or are willing to pay.
A few years into it, I decided to move out. Or at least, that’s the story my mother would tell. “He just couldn’t follow the rules and decided to move out.” Ill come back to this later.
I kept to myself for about.. 7 weeks? Ish. I cannot recall how long exactly. It’s been a while. My parents allowed me to come back home, and all was well for a time. I kept my gifts in use, and went to church faithfully. But then I got saved, and soon thereafter I was raped. That’s when the demon giving me aid in my power desired that I use it to kill. I was a healer, and couldn’t do it. So I gave up the craft. Using this power for myself wasn’t getting me anywhere anyways. But.. I kept it on the back burner. A safety net, if you will.
Over time, church folk, Christians of a wide variety, avoided my questions, or gave cop out answers if they bothered to acknowledge them. The hypocrisy I bore witness too was just as much a part of me, though I couldn’t see it. These people drove me further and further away from Christ, back into the occult. Just minor stuff, designed to change the atmosphere around me. It worked for a time.
Then things here started to get bad. My home life was awful. I was always getting myself in trouble. Keep in mind, I worked 2 jobs and tried to stay away most of the time at this point. I ended up moving out again.
Or did I?
Back to earlier. ” He just couldn’t follow the rules, so he decided to move out.”
My mother’s story of how it happened.
My recollection is vastly different.
There was yelling on both parts, and I was told quite bluntly to pack my bags and get out. I did so. I had a friend at the time who took me in. And her mother? A witch. I had a teacher with the experience to show me more, beyond what I figured out on my own. I became the man that a shaman had prophesied about to my parents nearly 25 years ago. A man full of magic, full of power. So strong that the only way to pull me out would be another of such power.
Another friend of mine though, she asked me to try going back to church again. I told her I would if she went with me. It turned out that God wanted to pull me back to him. But I couldn’t stand it there that night.
In fact, if it weren’t for her presence, I would’ve walked right back out of the building. I didn’t wish to come into the holy place of his presence. I could feel how dark I was in contrast to his presence.
But that was only the beginning.
The sermon, I can barely remember. I was greatly distressed and uncomfortable. But then, from the pulpit, God manifested his spirit in a preacher to speak to me, directly. He spoke, saying it wasn’t too late, that I could still come back, there was still a window of time that I could turn back to Him. This man knew nothing of what I was doing, how I was living. There was no way anyone could have known that there in that building but for myself and my friend.
Needless to say, I left in a hurry that night.
Shortly thereafter I spoke of it to my father. Who forced me to the point of decision. I was paralyzed by the spiritual world until I decided what I was going to do. I don’t know how long this went on. I was given a vision during this time, of myself, bound in the chains of my darkness and sin. Until I cried out for freedom, they didn’t break. Once they broke, I was returned to the physical world, and freed from the paralysis.
I turned everything around and returned to church, half hearted often, for I still had so many questions I wanted answered, and the same responses from before. But over time, I began to find the answers myself. I can’t blame them for not having these answers. Many of them went to bible college and got stuck I’m the box of what their college taught that the bible teaches.
But I still had a problem. I was the one trying. I wasn’t allowing Jesus to change me. I felt that I was unworthy, having already experienced more of a miracle in my life than most see in their lifetime. It wasn’t until recently that I started being able to accept that my redemption gave me all access to the throne of grace. To get more miracles from the Maker.
Unworthy, but Redeemed.
If by one act of disobedience, one man could ruin everything for all humans, then by one act of obedience by our Lord Jesus, redemption has restored our place in God as beings created in His image.
Jesus redeemed me.
I was unworthy, and am still so. But by the blood of Jesus, I am redeemed.