Just some things...

[Kol]

I thought about all of this then, about the spirit guide and about going into other people's bodies, and about the demon I'd seen enter my physical body outside of the van. I realized after dreaming this that I could feel that demon with me, a presence just outside of my presence. It didn't feel like another person standing near you...it wasn't like that, it didn't feel that forceful or that powerful in some way. His own spirit felt royal, and jeweled, and regal.

And I've just realized I have made a mistake. Something else has just fallen into place, and I've made a mistake in the story I've told. But I'll get to that.

He had a commanding presence, and a sharp intelligence. Some part of him, as if a part of his make up as an entity, seemed magical or mysterious.

I thought about all these things then, and I decided I liked them. I felt as if I were surrounded by something enchanting. It was like having someone's arms around you, caressing you, holding you, all the time. It wasn't quite intoxicating, but most certainly enveloping, and it gave me a sense of love I hadn't experienced since my pre-birth memories, where I could feel the other celestials' hearts. This spirit liked me, I had seen that. He was not human, but more than that, and not even a normal demon, but a prince among demons...and he had chosen me to dwell in. I was his holy vessel.

After this, he no longer hid his presence from me, but at times I could feel him with me, inside my body, like a crown for my spirit.

As the weeks passed for me and I grew more accustomed to the thought, I realized what had happened:

I decided to contact my spirit guide to learn love and grow in consciousness. Since I'd read up on the concept of "walk-ins":

A walk-in is thought to be a person whose original soul has departed his or her body and been replaced with a new soul.

I invited any spirits who could guide me to come and reside with me in my body. Just like the book said to do.

This demon-prince had been with me since I was 13 years old.

I couldn't pray. If I ever tried, I would suddenly feel like I was being pushed out of my body. I would get dizzy and sick. Some part of me didn't like what I was doing.

This had been the demon. He didn't like me praying, and so he had let me know by forcing me out of my own body.

I realized as well this is where my bizarre dreams had come from, the dreams which had begun with violence and killing:

I began to have very violent dreams of killing. I would go on massacres, killing as many people as I could and trying to see how much fear I could get from the people I killed. I couldn't wake up from these dreams, and I couldn't stop them from happening. They were rare, but I did have them and they were horrible.

In one of them, I saw a plain with small brushes. There were two giants in the dream. The dream had a very old feel to it, as if it belonged to something that didn't exist anymore.

The small giant wandered around with a club in his hands. In the dream, he was very violent and the only thing I could sense from him was hatred and brutality. He hated God, and he cursed Him, and that's all he wanted to do: to destroy things and to hate God.

The bigger giant wandered around and from him I sensed an overwhelming sadness. He had been a king at one time, a *long* time ago..he had been an angel, I guessed, or something very much like it. ...whatever he had been king over had been destroyed...and so he had become this monster, ruling over this wilderness on earth. He would become like a god after he died, never evil or violent but never again something of God.

It was inexpressibly sad and didn't even seem like something I should have been allowed to see or know of. I felt like I had been thrust into another family's funeral.

I don't know for certain, but I believe this may have been my mind dreaming of my demon's former life. He wouldn't fit the description of either of the above giants, but it was without a doubt that he'd been one himself.

In another one of these dreams, I was hiding in a house, and I was waiting to kill people.

...there was a family which lived here, and I knew them. I had lived nearby. I was insanely happy and filled with absolute glee, because I was going to kill, to murder them all. Killing felt so good to me..it was what I was born to do, it was my destiny, my calling.

He wanted for her to know she was dying and to watch her reaction as she slowly did so...

I began to argue with myself that I didn't *want* this to happen. I then felt a voice in my mind, like someone that was there with me, pulling me on, telling me it would be fun, that killing would be great.

I realized this could easily have actually happened, and been just another memory of this spirit, this demon. That would explain why I had dreamed what I had.

If I had access to his experiences and his memories, if I couldn't recall them but feel them, this would explain a great number of things. From the dreams to the aliens to the feeling that I'd had sex even when I was still a virgin..it was because I'd had this other entity with me, a demon who had already lived several lives and actually experienced all these things before. This would explain why my own spirit was so in rebellion to it all, because experiencing them called up memories that weren't my own.

He had worked on me, year after year, until he'd finally perfected his perfect dwelling place. It had taken time, close to 10 years, but he'd finally succeeded in doing so.

This was why I'd had the feeling that I had lived before. I hadn't. But someone within me had.

And sadly, I decided I liked the idea, and I opened myself to this spirit, this demon, and not a single thing changed, despite the bhm's best attempts.

It was very close to being over for me.

 

[Kol]

What this means then, is that a Saved and born again Christian can have demons.

When I had been 15, I had watched preachers, prayed to the Lord, and asked Jesus to come into my heart and save me. And I believe he had. I'd even had the Holy Spirit:

By the time graduation came around 2 years later, I was a completely different person.

...I tuned in one night to watch Billy Graham preach salvation. He was talking about light and darkness, and how all the darkness in the universe couldn't cover up the light from a single star...I kneeled down in front of my television and prayed to Jesus to save me.

...I remember going online and arguing with random people about Jesus and the Bible. ...this was the first time in my life I ever felt the Holy Spirit with me...I remember practicing my evangelism on random people, and feeling this type of fire in my heart, and a deep love for God. It was God's presence with me, and after everything else, it comforted me beyond belief.

I'd had the Holy Spirit but not been "filled" with it. I had left the Spirit while in school, forgotten it, and it had given this demon room enough to primp and prime me, and to change me into what he wanted me to be.

"...Do not let the sun go down while you are angry, and do not give the devil a foothold."

I had, and that had been all that was required for this spirit to enter me, a single foothold.

Demons can inhabit the bodies of Saved, born-again Christians with the Holy Spirit.

 

[Kol]

I didn't laugh, I seldom talked, and spent most of my free time with my music, my games, or reading my Bible.

The angels who had been assigned to watch humanity descended instead to start families and have their sons rule the earth. The fallen angels taught men secrets for which God later destroyed the earth. God decreed that the angels were to be forced to watch their children be slaughtered, and were afterwards to be locked in what Peter calls "Tartarus" (2 Peter 2:4). Here they were said to beg forgiveness daily, but never obtain it.

This quickly became my favorite story.

To Gabriel also the Lord said, Go to the biters, to the reprobates, to the children of fornication; and destroy the children of fornication, the offspring of the Watchers, from among men; bring them forth, and excite them one against another. Let them perish by mutual slaughter; for length of days shall not be theirs. - Enoch 10:13

The giants were given weapons to fight against each other and kill themselves off, and this is one of the first things a demon will want to do: to fight against other demons.

There is no reason to go out "battling the darkness" or fighting monsters. Satan's kingdom is already defeated.

Wanting to fight "evil" is a good sign of cohabitation, because that's what the giants did: they killed each other. The best fighter against a demon would only be another demon. There's no reason to bring it to that.

But even the archangel Michael, when he was disputing with the devil about the body of Moses, did not dare to bring a slanderous accusation against him, but said, "The Lord rebuke you!" Jude 1:9

That's all it should be: "The Lord rebuke you!" Not to say this is all there is to fighting off a demon, not by far. But it doesn't require YOU to do anything. You are not a hero, you will never be a great "giant-killer", and that's not where ANY PART of the true 'battle' rests, anyway. Pray to Christ to send the spirit away.

The desire to fight demons comes not from God, but from demons. No ifs, ands, or buts.

 

[K9Guardian]

Well...

And does this mean the fairy tales/stories of good triumphing over evil are demon-inspired?

 

[Chocolatesa]

Besides, this has already been written about. I'm just telling the real version of it.

Just curious, does anyone have any thoughts on what may be going on here?

Where has this all been written about? the Bible?

No, no clear idea as of yet.

Still reading...

 

[Chocolatesa]

Yet another extremely embarrasing thing to admit...i'm sure I'll rest comfortably tonight, knowing that my deepest darkest secrets are all safely on the internet.

LOL!

 

[Kol]

At this point I have to just *not* think about what I'm doing and rest assured I'll never meet you guys, because this all sounds so psycho, even to me, that it's difficult. I can't believe it's happening.

MtDog, all I can say is that there were three types of giants. From a note in Enoch:

The Greek texts vary considerably from the Ethiopic text here. One Greek manuscript adds to this section, "And they [the women] bore to them [the Watchers] three races–first, the great giants. The giants brought forth [some say "slew"] the Naphelim, and the Naphelim brought forth [or "slew"] the Elioud. And they existed, increasing in power according to their greatness." See the account in the Book of Jubilees.

I'm saying that the giants fought the "Naphelim", and the "Naphelim" fought the "Elioud". Enoch also describes these three as different animals, donkeys and horses and elephants. That's what the giants are like; there are different types of them. What you think of as the hollywood demon-possessing thing is the first, the giants or the donkeys. The ugly monster-like things. The demon I came across was like the second, something beautiful and majestic, represented as a horse.

The smaller giant was afraid of the second one, and the second felt a bitter hatred for his smaller "cousin".

The dream I'd had as a kid was about the last two, the "elephants" and the "horses". And all the different giants aimed to kill each other.

I'll explain more later but I don't want to give it all away.

 

[Chocolatesa]

*runs smack into the end of the thread again*

grrr!, I'm eager to hear the rest! I think I read too fast.

The desire to fight demons comes not from God, but from demons. No ifs, ands, or buts.

That would make sense cause if we have Christ we know that we ourselves are no match for demons, only Christ Himself.

 

[Kol]

Where has this all been written about? the Bible?

No, no clear idea as of yet.

Still reading...

Just keep reading, I guess. You'll see.

I once again assert my sanity.

 

[Kol]

Chocolady, if you really read all of this, I'd be very interested in hearing what you have to say. I don't know if there's anyone else besides you and MtDog who can follow without completely losing me. Speculate, theorize. This is an interactive account.

 

[K9Guardian]

Yeah, I think you're right... Jesus already broke them, so there''s no logical reason run around fighting them.

I guess my stories are safe... but now I have a new way to look at things.

David, I hope I see you on AIM before you go.

 

[K9Guardian]

It's actually kind of funny to think of those giants fighting each other....

Not sure if anyone else can see the joke.

Makes me think of the Majins from Dragonball Z.

 

[Kol]

At that point I had reached the darkest and most miserable time in my life.

I wanted God, but didn't understand Him. I didnt want a Father, I wanted a force. I wanted to be God, in the sense that I wanted all his glory without having Him. I was under the mistaken belief that there was some type of "power" I could attain, some thing that would make me a god, spiritually speaking. But as I've said, I didn't understand what that meant. I was also obsessed with "secrets". I remembered my pre-existence, although I didn't really understand it. If I had, I'd have realized that I had taken a horribly wrong turn. The things that I fought against in the spirit had found me in the flesh. And I was bound to them in all my ignorance. I had lost focus, and become obsessed with angels and demons, with their ordering and names and powers. Blinded by numbers and missing the real meaning.

I remembered the "abductions" from when I was a child, and this too had become a focus in my life. I really hated everything evil, and over all, I wanted to destroy it. I thought I could survive my own personal darkness to destroy that filth in general. And wanting to fight evil, I'd attracted another with the same purpose, a demon who now shared my body. But none of this gave me any real ability. It only locked me into the same position as my enemies.

I poured candle wax into a little bowl, and dripped water on top of this. I watched the shapes to see what came out. I wanted to know the name of my spirit, my demon. The shape I got back looked like feathers to me, three feathers on the end of the wing. Another puddle turned into a fire with smoke coming out of it. The thoughts came to my mind that he had named himself Phoenix, because God would..had?..destroyed him, but that he had risen again.

My mother called me from Georgia, and Amanda told me she'd gone on a field trip to the Martin Luther King museum in Atlanta. Sasha was her best friend, and they were going to see if our momma would take them for ice cream because there was a new Sonic that had just opened up down the street. Ashley sang a song over the phone from her favorite show, Little Bear. I got a letter from Ashley. She was learning to write and had wanted to send me a letter without our mom translating on the side:

dear david
it is ashley
i lov you

when are you comeing home?
when are you leeving the air forest?
is it hot in the desert?
do you need a fan?

mom is my frind
amanda is my frind
you is are my frind
i lov you
ashley

I felt nothing, because I had killed those things, because doing so would enable me to be strong and conquer things most humans would never see.

I didn't like to cut myself but I loved to watch blood and to taste it, and so I would take a razor and shave the skin on the outer part of my palm until I drew blood. I bought iron tablets at the GNC on base and would open the capsules so i could taste the iron inside, because it was so reminescent of blood.

Once in a while, you'd be better listening to the fools for a change
Yeah, i can see it in your eyes, it's the ones not like you you despise
I'm no different than you, it's just that i do whatever I want to
that's what sets us apart, I was free from the start, now you're leaving..
tell me, whose heart is bleeding?

Christians hated anyone who weren't like them. They were no better than the sinners they claimed to be so unlike. But the truth was that they were afraid to be themselves. Only sinners really did what they wanted to. Everyone else was just a coward afraid of dying. Christians were just people afraid of God killing them. I felt no remorse for what I was doing, but if they ever saw how they had been afraid to live, then maybe they would see how they had cheated themselves. Sometimes it paid to listen to a fool like me.

My granddaddy called me to tell me my brother had been Saved. The entire family went to a single church with only a handful of people in it, and the preacher had given an alter call, and to everyone's vast surprise, Michael had stood up, 17 years old, and walked up to kneel down and pray. Nobody had said anything to him since, because Michael was a quiet person and when he was ready to talk about it, he would.

It was amazing to me how simple other people were.

One of my coworkers came to sit at my table in the break room.

"What is the source of your bitterness?", he asked, smiling and trying not to break out in laughter. Other workers were listening and trying to not let it show.

"I lament the ignorance in this world," I said flatly.

Who Wants to be a Millionaire was a new show back then, and everyone on the shift gathered around a snowy set to take guesses and play along. I would watch just to see how stupid the people playing were, then take my drink (since I seldom ate) back to the tool room and be alone again until 1am, when the shift was over. If work was slow, I'd go to the back of the shop and hide in the dark to watch the stars. I wondered how Keesler was doing, and laughed because that world was such an empty and ignorant one. I found myself amazed at how foolish and simple Heather had been. She was lucky to have caught someone like me so young, because powerful people didn't share themselves with others very often. She was lucky to have been with me. I thought back to Sandra and realized that I couldn't have taken her with me, because she wasn't strong enough to survive my new life. I looked forward to my career in the OSI. I would be a shadow man, someone never seen, who knew secrets and guarded them tightly. I was worthy, but others were not. I could see and understand the hidden things, things that nobody else had the capacity to appreciate.

I took the mirror in my bathroom down and hid it in my closet, because I hated to see my empty, physical representation. I couldn't take down the big mirror in the bedroom but I covered it up, and because I wasn't allowed by regs to put garbage bags on my windows, I used blankets instead. I would turn off all the lights and cover every bit of sunlight coming in, and would sit in my room alone at night, dressed in all black, with just my black light or candles, listening to dark music and enjoying my solitude. I could feel angels all around me, and they had come to bless me on my path in life. I was a secret myself, a real-life magician, a necromancer who was home to the spirit of a demon king dead for millennia. I was perfectly good and yet embraced by such darkness. The hero of the world, someone who could master both...

 

[Kol]

It's actually kind of funny to think of those giants fighting each other....

Not sure if anyone else can see the joke.

Makes me think of the Majins from Dragonball Z.

Mention Akira Toriyama's artwork again and i will lose respect for you.

 

[Chocolatesa]

Hmmm... can't think of much to say, except that your story reminds me of other people I know, how I feel helpless to do anything except pray for them. And that I'm continually intrigued by your story. God dragged you out from really far down. Praise be to Him for that. The part about the demon prince inhabiting you, and that even Christians can be inhabited without being posessed, reminds me of struggles I've had in the past and still have, as much big things as small. How I can sit and watch myself make excuses for wrongdoings while another part of me feels wrong, and that I sometimes feel like I'm just sitting back and watching it, but I shouldn't be, I should be acting on behalf of my consience, the Holy Spirit.

 

[K9Guardian]

Artwork is beyond me, but I assure you I think the plot in DBZ sucked.

This stuff does unnerve me, but only because so much of your emotional state bears a striking resemblance to my own. To explain fully would require me to write at length, but I'll say I unnderstand what you mean about killing emotions. I was an outcast, sort of, as a teen. I couldn't walk, and I was deaf, among other things. I was ashamed of that. I felt weak, inferior. It hurt. I think you can guess how I dealt with it. I built myself up on the inside. I tried to make myself powerful on the inside, to compensate for my weak exterior. I wanted to be a knife; hard and sharp and cold. And no one could ever know, because it was my little "secret weapon". I didnn't fall off the deep end, not quite, though. For a while I had an obsession with black dogs and dark monstrous entities, but I stopped because it was beginning to get to my head...

Lord, help. I'm not even over all of it yet...

 

[K9Guardian]

And man, you DO sound like Raistlin Majore.

 

[Kol]

The part about the demon prince inhabiting you..

Dude, that line was so nerdy, that when you said it, I suddenly remembered ASCII. But I brought it on myself, and yeah, and John Eldridge said something like this in one of his books. He suggested that some of our thoughts might start with outside influences. I guess I'd agree, just disagree that they're outside.

How I can sit and watch myself make excuses for wrongdoings while another part of me feels wrong, and that I sometimes feel like I'm just sitting back and watching it, but I shouldn't be, I should be acting on behalf of my consience, the Holy Spirit.

Mmhmm. You're watching your sinful nature take control. It's like what i said for the demon changing me to make more more desireable for him to cohabit. I think this is similar to when it says to not grieve the Holy Spirit. As an 'evil' spirit, I didn't like to inhabit someone who had the Holy Spirit. It was uncomfortable, and I'd have to work to stay there, and I would have to keep my distance. It was like standing on a ledge. Same with the Holy Spirit then; we shouldn't make it difficult for that Spirit to stay with us.

The last thing I have to say about all of this is that I don't believe the Holy Spirit is an entity. It's a ghost, not a person. Let me explain.

It's generally accepted by "paranormal investigators" that there are three types of hauntings: residual hauntings, departed spirits, and inhuman spirits. The inhuman spirits are demons. The departed spirits are people who have died. The first, residual hauntings, is the only thing that I would call a ghost.

From the Shadowlands website:

Do you see the same apparition doing the same things all the time? Do you hear the same noises, possibly at the same time of day, each time they are heard? Does that ghost seem to not even realize that you are there? If the answer is yes to any of these, you may be witnessing what is known as a residual haunting. Some of the most famous hauntings appear to be residual ones.
A residual haunting is a playback of a past event. The apparitions involved are not spirits, they are "recordings" of the event. I believe that this will be the first type of haunting that main stream researchers will recognize and study.

A residual haunting, a "ghost" is not an actual entity. It isn't a person. But the sights, the sounds, the feel of the person, everything that defines that person as an individual, even perhaps their thougts, may materialize and this is a residual. Residue from a person's essense. It's not an individual; it's their ghost.

This is what I believe the Holy Ghost is. It doesn't feel like another person, like God or Jesus. It doesn't inhabit you or "ride" like another spirit would, but seems more like a power, or a cloud or mist. I can feel Jesus through it, but I have never sensed a sentience in the Holy Spirit. I believe it is Jesus's Ghost.

And man, you DO sound like Raistlin Majore.

Rofl, I read your reply then went back up and read what I wrote.

I was under the mistaken belief that there was some type of "power" I could attain, some thing that would make me a god, spiritually speaking.

And I was bound to them in all my ignorance. I had lost focus, and become obsessed with angels and demons, with their ordering and names and powers. Blinded by numbers and missing the real meaning.

It was amazing to me how simple other people were.

One of my coworkers came to sit at my table in the break room.

"What is the source of your bitterness?", he asked, smiling and trying not to break out in laughter. Other workers were listening and trying to not let it show.

"I lament the ignorance in this world," I said flatly.

Lol, I guess I can see that. But really I prefer Walker Boh from Terry Brooks' writing instead. Now there's a man among men..

 

[Kol]

When I was a little boy, my grandparents had taken me to church.

When I left my grandparents and moved back in with my mother, my stepdad had brought me to his own church.

When my parents divorced and my stepdad and grandparents were taken away from me, I met Sara, who talked with me about God.

When she was taken away, I had dreams at night of giving my life to God.

When I forgot my dreams and became obsessed with aliens, the bhm had come to talk to me.

When I felt useless and worthless, I'd been given a chance in the Air Force.

When I screwed that up, I'd been given another chance in another career.

When I became bitter over this and turned to the occult, the bhm had once again come to me and preached Jesus to me, telling me in detail how refusing would destroy my life.

And once again, I had refused to listen.

"Listen to another parable: There was a landowner who planted a vineyard. He put a wall around it, dug a winepress in it and built a watchtower. Then he rented the vineyard to some farmers and went away on a journey. When the harvest time approached, he sent his servants to the tenants to collect his fruit.

"The tenants seized his servants; they beat one, killed another, and stoned a third. Then he sent other servants to them, more than the first time, and the tenants treated them the same way.

Last of all, he sent his son to them. 'They will respect my son,' he said.

I was at that last point, the great Last of All. I'd been preached to, taught to, inspired and shown what to do. I'd had teachers, preachers, ministers and missionaries. My granddad, my stepddad, and a little sister designed to make me understand love and compassion. I'd been given a great chance, I'd been given a terrific job. I'd marched my own army, flown halfway across the world, been pampered and disciplined both, made and formed and raised a man.

I'd had an angel come to me in my dreams to stand in front of me and explain the gospel, just in case there was some part I didn't understand.

And I had refused them all.

I dreamed I was flying through a light gray mist, inside of an equally gray void. I had been summoned, called to this place. I came to a metallic gray platform and stopped there, waiting like I knew I was supposed to do.

I was dead. I saw myself as I was in the heavens, not as a man but as a son of God. I was no longer living. I had cuts and gashes, deep slices into my body all over. There were marks on my head, marks on my sides, marks on my legs, all the way down to my feet. There had been some kind of life or heartbeat, some kind of thing once inside of me that had made me alive, but every last bit of that was now gone. Irrevocably gone.

I had once been a very powerful spirit, and that was the only reason I was still able to stand. I knew somehow that most people, on reaching the phase I was now at, fell down and slept. There was nothing inside of them to keep them going. No life. I didn't have that life either, but I did have something: vengeance. I wanted revenge on the people who had caused this, and that burning desire refused to let me lay down. It was the only purpose to my life, the only thing that kept me going.

I could feel God's curse against me as well. He had cursed me so that I would wither and die, a punishment that was far better than what I deserved. He would never forgive me, and would never again answer my prayers; He refused any longer to be my God. I made no complaint against it..it gave me time to finish what I wanted to finish, and that was all I cared about. I was cut off from Him. I could no longer make contact with Him, could no longer draw on Him for my life. I was no longer His son. What I had left inside myself was it. I would never be able to renew myself, and when that last bit of life ran out, that was it.

I remembered thinking it was God, and that He answered that He was *always* there. I said something like, "there's only so many ways this can end, aren't there?" I don't remember what the answer was. I then said something like, "one of those ways is with You, isn't it?" I remember dreaming that He said yes, and that the decision was mine. I believe I told Him that all I really wanted to do was to destroy "them". He answered, saying that it was going to be done, but He wasn't going to make any effort to see that I had anything to do with it.

In that moment I didn't hate God, but I felt apart from Him with no desire to go back. I just wanted to finish my mission and die.

That time was up.

I remember very clearly standing on this gray platform and walking back and forth across it. There are two forms to a spiritual body, and this is when my flesh mind realized this, upon remembering this episode the next morning. Two forms: a bodily form and a glorified form. The first was 'human', and the only one I'd seen in the past few years, since I was 15. The glorified was the one I now stood in, because it was proper to, and I could see now that it held no longer held any glory whatsoever.

I was a walking corpse.

A large brown mist suddenly came out of nowhere, just off the platform, on the north side. As it approached, I stumbled back as quickly as I could, nearly tripping over my own body. A difficult thing to do in a spiritual form. Anyone who remembers being in one will right now be laughing. The mist immediately radiated it's essence. Peacefulness, redemption, and a glory that was not yet apparent. Brown curls seemed to hem in everything.

He came to my left, and took his bodily form. Jesus Christ our Savior was standing nearby me.

I remember circling around to his front and slightly to his left, keeping a very suspicious eye on him the entire time. I kept my distance.

He watched me the entire time. He seemed sad and let down. The only reason he was there was that he had been told to go there by his Father. It really felt as if he thought it were a lost cause. That was his entire temperment, as if he had been told to go preach, but knew that there was no real chance of it working. It made him sad to have to go, because he thought the only thing it would accomplish was for him to meet yet another person destined for Hell. It was like fighting an invincible army. You had fought and fallen back, stormed the beaches and bombed from the air. And yet, nothing had worked. Finally, someone had said, "hey, maybe if we sent uncle Jethro, they'd listen." It was very much as if the young master didn't have a high opinion of himself.

I watched him, and asked because it had to be asked, "are you really the Son of God?"

"He's going to make restitution," the bhm said.

"How?" I was not so quick to believe it could be a full restitution.

"He has made ???? into His son." This was a force of God, an emenation, something about Him that just was, like your breath or your voice, or your thoughts themselves. There were several things about Him like this, but none exactly the same. I can't remember anything beyond this.

I remember rolling my eyes and spitting in disgust. "How lame!" I screamed. The idea was stupid and childish. As if He would have sons like the celestials had. It also seemed to marr His image to me, for Him to become like a mere heavenly being.

"It's already happened," he told me. The bhm stood there like a brick wall. "You are going to come in contact with him, and then you will have a decision to make."

I thought then that His son was a person on earth. I imagined him coming to talk to me in my swing, and I wondered how I would think clearly enough to talk to him.

"I am," he said. But he still sounded sad.

I remember really opening my eyes and looking at him. I think I may have walked around him a bit and just studied him. He was absolutely powerful, almost in an insane celtic warrior type way. Everything about him was strongly, strongly virtueous. I had never before seen anything like it. He was tall, but it really seemed more like you were just short. And I had never thought of myself as a small celestial before that moment. And he was strong, and peaceful somehow, and absolutely perfect in everything that surrounded and radiated from him. And brown curls and brown clothing surrounded everything.

"I've been looking for you for a long, long time," I said.

I believe he may have raised an eyebrow.

I guess people look for Jesus in some very bizarre places.

But he began to talk to me, and tell me what he was, and I can't remember any of it. Finally I remember telling the lord that I would accept him, and let him do what needed to be done.

There was an alien sitting in the corner, and it was there because Jesus had told it to be there. It was the prince that was with me.

Jesus walked with me to stand in front of it. The demon turned to the lord and a look of two people who have already met went through his eyes, along with that of slight dislike. Not hatred or rage, but dislike.

"You have to get rid of him if you're going to have me," Jesus said.

It was as if, in my human life, I'd taken one emotion and ran with it, and that this is how I'd become so wrapped up in what I was doing. Here though, I could think clearly, and it didn't take a moment's thought to decide getting rid of the prince was no problem.

"Lord," I said, "I don't know how to do that!"

He told me to think of him, and doing so to force the other spirit to leave. He told me to tell the demon to leave, using my lord's name.

I turned to the demon and looked at him. Looking into his eyes made me so afraid I could barely move. I tried to call up all the bravery I'd once had, but it was gone. There was a little bit of anger over this, and mixing those two things together, I steadied myself and spoke to the monster.

"In the name of Jesus, be gone," I said.

He looked me straight in the eye, and smiled with pure glee and sarcasm. "Do you really think it's that easy?"

This terrified me, and I began to lose it.

This seemed to make Jesus sad once again. "If you can't do it, call on me, and I'll do it," he told me. He turned to the demon and said something, making his authority evident right away. He said a few more things, which I don't remember, and finally the demon was sent away.

And there were other things that happened as the Lord spoke to me, but I have never been able to remember any of them.

...and that was it.

 

[Chocolatesa]

Dude, that line was so nerdy, that when you said it, I suddenly remembered ASCII.

What's ASCII?