A Day

Nothing is more baffling than the sudden shifting of the body that causes one to stumble at the most random time. The same stair, the same porch, or the same walkway suddenly gets the urge to embarrass your assumptions about the world around you and send you abruptly into the path of gravitation. Then, gravity takes hold of you and dunks you onto the ground like it harbored revenge in its soul against you. This was the encounter I had today. However, it was not gravity that grasped me.

Strolling through the office, retuning to my desk, my ear caught a sound from the air and alerted my mind. The paper towel dispenser came on without provocation. The engine whirled and the paper slid through the slot for no apparent reason other than to mess with me. I stopped, looking at my coworker, confirming if her ears discovered the same abnormality as mine. I turned to the doorway and peeped in. The bathroom was empty and the door was open.

Jokingly, I grabbed the door to the bathroom and closed it shut, saying aloud, “Nah. Not today. No, thank you, in Jesus’ name.” We burst into laughter as the door sealed and whatever it was remained where it was found. Part of my mind wondered if a spirit was in the bathroom and only the motion sensor could detect its presence, but I always fought against such thoughts. I had the audacity to believe nothing would challenge me as the son of God.

I had this belief that I was always surrounded by angels and no demon could come within my line of security. No ghost, no ancestor, nor any curse had authority to approach or touch me without permission. Well… By hour’s end, my energy had begun to lessen and chills began to rise on my skin.

I began to feel sick, like the onset of a flu. My shoulders and spine felt like prickly needles rather than hairs. My hands became could as ice. My skin became sensitive to the jacket wrapped around my forearms. “Oh no,” I thought. “I’m getting sick.”

It made sense. Coughing was a part of the soundtrack for today’s song. Some even bothered to harmonize. Perhaps, one of the ones I had spoken with poisoned the air around my noise and infected me. Still, it was strange to have gone from perfectly fine to potentially sick in one hour. Nothing, not even allergies, was that fast.

My mind wondered. Was it the flu? Was it a stomach virus like last time? Was there actually something in the bathroom? My mind recaptured the image of the grey tile, white, porcelain seat, and black box hanging from the gray walls with the paper towel hanging from the slit. Regardless, my body was shaken and it was strange to me how quickly it had entered this state.

When reason could not account for the decline, I quickly turned to prayer. “Lord whatever spirit attached itself to me, if it’s not from You, remove it. Whatever spirit you are, remove yourself from me in Jesus’ name.” A precautionary prayer in case something did attach itself to me.

I am occasionally reminded of my uncle’s trip to France. One of those nights, something toured my uncle’s dream. It vexed him and irritated his soul as he screamed from his slumber, “Jesus!” only to startle and scare someone beyond the walls nearby into a scream herself, almost as if that person was reasonable for the attack. A quick prayer – a surrender – and life returned to normalcy.

I, too, had such encounters. One minute, you’re dreaming about nothing. Then, nothing turns to you with irregularities in their gaze. Suddenly, a stroll becomes a run. A run becomes a wrestle. A wrestle becomes an awakening. Then, without physical evidence, your body senses another presence in the room.

Some call it sleep paralysis, but I did move after I called on Jesus. The first time, the wolf staring down on me departed at the presence of my mother and light. The second time, the presence at the door departed from the anger in my eyes and confidence in my heart. “Demons know to stay away. They know Whose I am,” I thought. Akin to what Thor said in Avengers, “[This spirit] is just the latest in a long line of [spirits] and [it] will be the latest to feel my vengeance. [God] wills it so.” Call it dramatic, if you need to, but I play no games with people, demons, or spirits.

So, when I found myself receiving little relief while basking in the sun, I knew the battle had already ensued. Something had visited my place of work, a place filled with many possessed individuals who’d allowed these spirits to run rampant in their lives. One spirit was bold enough to walk the aisles of my department. Unfortunately, it ran into me.

I spent fifteen minutes under the sun. When my body did not respond, I knew what time it was. I returned to my desk. My spirit urged me into action. I laid my head down and prayed for five minutes. My prayer didn’t need to be long. It didn’t need the attention of others. It just needed to be said. From that point on, it became a waiting game.

As the hours passed, I paid attention to how my body responded. If nothing changed, I was just getting sick. If I became well, God is good and another spirit defeated. I began to drink water to flush my system. I knew it likely wasn’t sickness, but I also didn’t want to avoid practicality over dramatism. After a short while, with the chills, I had to use the restroom. I avoided the one restroom from before. It was occupied.

Stepping to the next door, I went to turn the light on, and darkness remained. I pressed the button again. No response. I pressed hard. I pressed long. I pressed repeatedly. The light refused to come on. Now, I knew it was a battle of the spirits.

I returned to that same coworker, who simply said, “I see it.” She affirmed that something strange was going on. I was not losing my mind. We were being tested. With that, in my silliness, to keep the office in a lighter mood, I said, “Nah, not today, Satan. Y’all better leave me alone. I do not play this game. Now, the lights don’t work? Nah, you better move on.” Others tried to test the light, but nothing worked.

Despite this, I knew the time for prayer was no more. I had already prayed and I knew my answer was coming. Perhaps, I just had to leave and carry the spirit out with me. Regardless, God heard me the first time. Just because I didn’t see an immediate response didn’t mean I wasn’t heard. We had done that lesson many times over. I just waited.

Within that same hour, my body began to warm. The chills were departing, and the battle seemed to be coming to a close. My energy was returning and everything seemed brighter. The light in the second bathroom finally came on. The first bathroom was working appropriately. Everything was returning to normal.

This happened in the first half of a sixteen-hour shift. In the second half, my body went from warm to hot. I was burning up. All signs said I was getting sick, but I was much happier than I was in the first half. My body was responding. Perhaps, I was sick. Maybe I was being dramatic. For a second, I went to dismiss the experience of yesterday, but in the back of my mind, I knew I was fine. I knew it was a battle that was won. I knew I wasn’t being dramatic at all. Sometimes, we Christians have a habit of over-spiritualizing our experiences. I knew this wasn’t one of those times.

By 6am, I was in my bed, expecting to wake up to a sore throat, stuffy nose, and weakened body. Instead, I awoke perfectly fine. The problems of yesterday stayed in yesterday. I was completely healthy, energized, warm, and breathing clearly. The battle had been won. I thanked the Lord. Another spirit in a long line of spirits waiting to taste their defeat at my hands – the hands held by God. Elohim wills it so.

I returned to work tired, but healthy. I had received another testimony – another testament to the greatness of God. My spirit had been lifted and I was grateful to have another moment of God showing up in my life. Even the days where everything seems to want to go wrong become just another day when God watches over you and hears your prayer. Dare I say I am a righteous man?

Stay prayed up,

The Novelist Dario