I am tired. For a good reason. I am exhausted. For a good cause. I am undone. For a holy God. I am a warrior princess. I proclaimed it. Believed it. Blogged it. Less than 24 hours, I was called to battle. For the soul of a child. And my own.
Plans were made. But there’s something about plans. They can always be broken. A gathering was prepared with friends. To pray. To ask for the power to fall. To intercede on behalf of children. To remove the curse from our lives.
The girl wanted to go home. Now. And she was leaving. Now. Boldly I spoke that I would not let this go. And the time was granted to me. I had four hours.
My friends, who I knew would be there beside me, all of a sudden were ill. Panic set in. For a moment. I had doubts. Because honestly, when you go into battle, you’re bound to have doubts. But from the depths of my soul, I became calm. No. I will not quit. I will not back down. I will stand tall. My friend apologized profusely for being ill … but she told me, “You can do this. You are powerful. You are important in this Kingdom.” Strength overwhelmed my soul. I no longer cared about who I was or who I was facing. This was all about Him. His glory. His victory. I was just the vessel.
Feeling empowered, I walked into the arena. My daughter’s teammate was having a hard time calming down. Then I did something, I’ve never done. I asked her mom, “Can I touch her for a moment?” I walked over to this little girl, looked at her, and walked her through calming down. And she confidently went out into the arena. I smiled. Thank you Father, I whispered. For helping me learn how to do your will. For knowing that I can ask, and you will provide. And then, I was able to tell her mom, I need to go. To pray. To prepare. And she understood. And I just stood there amazed.
His kingdom is everywhere. If you look. If you push out past the comfort zone. If you give up the idea that everything you believe is true. In the “out there” … He is there.
I started the truck and started down a gravel road. I didn’t know where to begin. Honesty is always a good place to start. “Father. I can’t do this. I don’t know how to do this. Am I right? Is this you? Do you know me?” As I poured my heart out, the tempo increased. At one point I was screaming every doubt. And then, I crossed over the point of no return. “I am yours. All yours. You can do what you want. I will do what you want.” I’m not sure how I made it home. I was driving, crying and praying and feeling like I was not there, but there. And then I started to realize that it was time. Time to let go. Finally. Totally. To take my sword and sever the tie. The tie that has bound me here.
“Dad. I am done. You may have given me birth. You may have raised me. But I no longer belong to you. You no longer own me. I belong to my Heavenly Father. It is done.”
And with that. It is done. 39 years of soul death, gone. With a moment of total submission to the will of my Father. The power that this evil man had over me. Is gone. It is done.
And that is what Jesus meant by being born again. Realizing that I belong not to a man, but to God. It’s soul-baring, deep, difficult work. But when it is done. It brings peace. And a joy unspeakable.
Just as I surrendered. The phone rings. Our truck has Bluetooth. Now I’m driving down the road, crying, and speaking to a friend. One who has this gift. To see. To deliver. And now I know why she has crossed into my journey. I wish she was here. But I realize as we talk. This is my battle. I know this enemy. And I am the one the girl trusts. I realize I have the love that she will need. Love is more powerful than any substance of the Kingdom. It is my battle. And I must prepare.
I retreat to my room. And I pray. And I read the word. Psalms 118. Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good! His mercy endures forever. Yes, the Lord is for me; he will help me. I will look in triumph at those who hate me. I read and read. Verse after verse. Stories of victory. Songs of peace. Stories of Jesus and his disciples. I read the story of David and Goliath. I know what Jesus felt. The hour before they came for him. The depth of prayer it took to face the task before him. I know the power he felt. The sweet, blessed assurance that the Father would be victorious. And I waited.
I began to listen to my favorite song. “Oceans” by Hillsong United.
Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior
I see them. My brothers and sisters. Standing with me in the gap. We are in a circle. Bright shining white light. Slowly. So slowly. Walking toward the darkness. Pushing it back. Then it’s gone. Like that. Like a candle snuffed out by a wind. The battle begins.
I look out. They are here. The girl and I go into a room. We talk. I tell her I love her. I ask if I can pray for her. She agrees. We pray. She laughs. Confusion. People going in and out. I don’t move. She doesn’t move. Uncle comes in to pray. To bless her. But it’s not time to move. I look in her eyes. She laughs.
What happens next was a battle. I don’t know how to describe. But at some point I knew that I was battling this thing again. The one I had already battled and overcome. I know it’s name. I know what it feels like. What it smells like. How it makes you feel and robs you of who you are. How it tells you that you are ugly, dirty, broken. Death is the only thing that is good for you. It is vile, and evil, and horrid. And it is born out of the heart of the man I used to love. But it no longer controls me, and it knows that. And I surrender to the will of my Father. And I just hold on to the girl with all I have. Crying. Praying. Saying the name of Jesus. Over and Over and Over. Jesus. I quote Psalms 23. The LORD is my Shepherd. I shall not want. Proclaiming the girl is ours. She belongs to our family. To us. Not to this man’s evil. I’m in a battle, I don’t understand. I am not even the one battling. I KNOW my Father is battling. I KNOW he is the one pushing back the dark. Kicking it out from every corner it runs to hide. This insidious thing is going back to the depths it came from. It’s no longer going to reign over us again.
We both lay silently. Her eyes closed. I keep telling her I love her. How beautiful she is. She opens her eyes. It’s like seeing a baby look at the world for the first time. I smile at her. “I see you” I say. She smiles. “Welcome back” I tell her. She’s back. Our baby girl that he tried to destroy is back.
We talk. Unable to move at this point. She has to go to the restroom. She comes running back into the room. “Aunt Taunya. I have the prettiest eyes! Do you know how blue they are?” I just weep. Yes. Yes baby girl, I know how bright your eyes are. I know how beautiful you are. You can see that now.
We leave the room and go downstairs. The husband asks what happened. “God is mighty powerful” is all I say. I can’t explain it. It will take me longer to explain and put into words what I experienced this day.
The girl doesn’t leave my side all afternoon and evening. We talk and talk. About life and spirit and grace and a God that she spoke to as a child. And I pray as hard as I can. A hedge of protection around her. She leaves at midnight to go home. And I pray. Pray and sing over her. The song. The song that I kept singing during the four hours I prayed for her.
You crush the enemy
Underneath my feet
You are my Sword and Shield
Though troubles linger still
Whom shall I fear?
I know Who goes before me
I know Who stands behind
The God of angel armies
Is always by my side
The One who reigns forever
He is a Friend of mine
The God of angel armies
Is always by my side
Chris Tomlin – Whom Shall I Fear (God Of Angel Armies)
I send her home with an army of angels around her. I know that the Father will watch over her. Keep her. And that she will be safe. She is strong and beautiful and precious to Him.
I can’t say that I WANT to do this again. Any doubt I had about a spirit world and evil has been thrown out the window. There is evil. There are evil spirits. I can no longer be ignorant about the presence of evil. I’m not going to focus on it. I’m going to focus on what I DO know … what this whole experience showed me.
There’s a kingdom. It’s pushing into this world. It’s light. It’s truth. It’s absolute pure love. And it’s making the heart of men tremble at the sound of HIS coming. The KING…my Father…is returning. I can’t wait for you to meet him.