Turning Up The Heat
By
Phil Scovell
In early 2002, the Lord began speaking to me about quitting
my job and going full time into some sort of ministry. Although
I knew it had something to do with intercessory prayer and
something to do with what some might call counseling, I did not
have the complete picture. Additionally, I in no way wanted to
quit my job, nor did I want to live by faith, or at least what I
perceived faith to be. The definition of living by faith, in my
mind, was having a servant's heart. This meant, of course, you
lived on as little as possible and nearly starved. I'd been that
route before and in no way wanted to return to such a life style.
So, in short, I tried my best not to think about what the Lord
was telling me. Besides, I rationalized, it probably wasn't God
speaking to me any way.
As strange as it may seem, somebody started turning up the
spiritual heat on me. By that I mean, I began noticing I had a
hunger for God which went beyond anything I had ever known
before. This concerned me a little because I had no idea what
that might be all about. Furthermore, I felt my emotions being
cycled through unsettling events which I found I could not
control.
About this time, I turned 50 years of age. 40 was fine but
50 was bad and for many reasons. The biggest problem turning 50
for me was that I looked back on my life and couldn't find a
single thing I had done that was worth anything of value. I
overlooked the 100 people who had gotten saved in the meetings I
had preached back in the 70's as I travelled and the over 400
Christians who came forward to get their lives straightened out
with the Lord. I overlooked all the people I personally had led
to Christ, too. I overlooked the time I was an assistant pastor
and all the blessings I had experienced in that ministry. I
overlook the 3 children I had raised, the home the Lord gave me
when I was broke, the church I had pastored, and even the
blessing of my grandchildren. When you are being deceived, the
good things, the important things, and the Godly things make
little difference. I felt the pressure building but tried to
ignore it. I called upon friends to pray and they did, but I had
no one at church to call upon that might understand; not even my
own pastor.
Finally, the first week of June that year, I became horribly
ill with a terrible summer time cold and my resistance faltered.
Suddenly, and without warning, anxiety attacks rushed in and
rolled over me like a title wave or a steam roller flattening a
road. Demons came from everywhere. I heard voices. I knew they
were demonic but try telling your family doctor that one and see
if he lets you out of the building. Try telling your pastor or
your Christian friends, or even your own family, and see what
happens. I literally stopped eating. I did not eat for 5 days.
I did not sleep for 4 nights. I could not sleep because the
demons literally awakened me with in 2 or 3 minutes of dropping
off to sleep. Just as I would begin drifting into sleep, they
would make pops and cracks and clicks in my ears and startle me
awake. Sometimes my name would be shouted or I would hear any
varieties of sound that would cause me to jerk awake.
One night I did sleep but only because I took so many
sleeping pills, I knew it would put me out. No, I wasn't in any
danger and I wasn't interested in killing myself. I sure wanted
to die, though. In fact, over the next 4 or 5 months, I begged
God to kill me. I felt as if I were barely in my own body. It
felt as if ants were crawling all over my skin much of the time
and I felt so light headed and dizzy, I could hardly walk from
one room to the other without holding on to furniture for
balance.
One day, during those 5 days, I was sitting on my front
porch listening to the radio, trying to keep my mind from
thinking about demons, failure, fear, and mental illness, and I
got up to go into the house for a small drink of water. I knew
if I didn't drink something once and awhile, I'd be in big
trouble. I stood up, walked to the front door, and passed out;
dropping my 350 dollar radio on the concrete front porch. I was
only out for a few seconds, I think, but when I came to, I had no
idea were I was. I thought I had just awakened from another
demonic nightmare. We live on a very busy street and I kept
hearing all this loud rushing noise. I started calling my wife's
name, as I so often did when awaking from night fears, trying to
figure out where I was. My blindness, which I had been from 11
years of age, was more frightening at that moment than ever
before. Finally, the noise of the traffic registered in my mind
and I realized I was laying on my back on the front porch but I
still didn't know where. I felt around me, because my legs
weren't working right yet, and felt the wooden milk box and I
realized I was by the front door. I began pounding on the door
because I knew someone would hear me. Before anyone came to the
door, I was able to get up, find my radio, and walk into the
house on rubbery legs. My youngest son came in about that time
with my wife, Sandy. He said I was white as a sheet. We took my
blood pressure and it was fine. I was a lot more careful after
that.
I could tell you many more stories like this but the bottom
line is this. The Lord was turning up the heat, turning down the
light, and the darkness was growing thicker all around me. Why?
Because I was not listening to His voice. Does this sound like
God? Not to most people but that is only because we generally,
thanks to the weak and watered down preaching we have all had
over the years, stop being afraid of the God of the universe who
doesn't hesitate to use force when He wants things done. Either
get on board God's bus or get off because He is rolling.
I thought I had pretty good reasons for not doing what the
Lord was telling me to do. First, I had no idea what He was
talking about. Second, I figured, no matter what it might be, I
wasn't spiritually capable of doing it. Third, I was a loser. I
pointed to things like my blindness, my children, and a whole lot
of other things, to prove my case. Fourth, I knew I wasn't a
good enough Christian to do what the Lord had asked me to do for
Him. I know that sounds stupid but when you are deceived, God
doesn't make a bit of sense.
I went to the doctor several times, got on medication, but
it help minimally. I would have done anything at this stage to
stop the 24 hour a day anxiety attacks. I began writing many
people I knew via email and telling them how crazy I was and all
that was happening. I told friends via the telephone. I called
all my family members. I told all my own kids who were adults
and married. I left no one out. I knew if I did not reach out
beyond where I was, I wasn't going to make it and even then, I
still thought I wouldn't survive.
what about crying? did I do any of that? Yes, by the
buckets full and that didn't help much either. I was unable to
work due to the anxiety and panic attacks. I was unable to sleep
with drugs and the day time drugs helped so very little, I'm
still not sure why I bothered.
One day, about a month after this all began, I cried out to
God in prayer and said, "Lord, you know where these people are
that you want me to meet. Either bring them to me or take me to
them because I am helpless." It couldn't have been more than 24
hours later that the Lord answered my prayer.
sitting in the Christian therapist's office for the first
time, I told him that I was raised in a fine Christian home, my
father had been a preacher, and I had nothing wrong in my
childhood because I grew up happy. I then poured out all my
current problems. When I finished, he said, "Phil, I have
learned that psychology doesn't work." My heart sank. I had
read perhaps fifty books on psychology in my life and knew all
the behavioral techniques and everything else that went along
with it so I figured this was going to be the method to bring me
back to a half way functional life. I mean, this guy was a
therapist and he was a Christian. So at the very least, I
figured a little of the Bible would be mixed in with the
psychology. Now, this guy is telling me that psychology doesn't
work? Then he continued by telling me, "But prayer will work."
He explained to me about a form of prayer ministry which would
completely heal me and would allow me to walk in maintenance free
victory. Hearing these words, fear gripped me. I figured I'd
just walked into a New Age cult of some sort. I was desperate
enough to keep listening. Besides, I had paid 130 dollars and I
figured I would hear him out even if he was a crackpot.
Half way through his explanation, I stopped him and said.
"Wait just a minute. Do you know what an intercessor is?" He
said he did. I told him that I was an intercessor and this
sounded exactly like what the Lord had been trying to tell me
about. Furthermore, I told him that this sounded exactly like a
highly focused form of intercessory prayer. He agreed it was
exactly that. I was dumbfounded. I could feel in my heart and
in my spirit that this was exactly what the Lord had been talking
to me about for over a year. Yet I could not fully understand it
at this point.
Over the next seven months, we met for prayer sessions about
eight or nine times. Each prayer session lasted from 90 minutes
to 3 hours. The Lord did amazing things for me during these
prayer sessions and yet no psychological counseling techniques
were ever used. "Not once?" Not one time. We prayed together,
waited upon the Lord, and healing occurred over and over again in
multiple places in my life. Time and time again, the Lord took
me to wounded and painful places in my life, many of which were
in fact in my childhood, and spoke His truth to me. I heard no
audible voices nor saw any mystical visions nor any angelic
manifestations. I was healed, however, over and over through the
ministry of the Holy Spirit.
Less than a year after the anxiety and panic attacks
started, and the voices awakened me at night, I was praying with
others and watching the Lord heal them. The anxiety attacks were
gone, the panic attacks were gone, and the voices were gone.
In recent months, the Lord has led me to an area of ministry
related to working with the sexually abused and multiple
personality disorders as well as many other disorders. "You
mean, these are Christians?" They are, indeed, Christians just
like you, who are deeply wounded and who have been carrying a
heavy burden of deep pain around most of their life. Yet God,
through intercessory prayer, moves into their life, shows them
where the lies are, and speaks His truth to them and they are
miraculously set free. He can, and will, do the same for you.
If you would like to read more about this, please click on
my booklet called "The Deceitfulness Of Sin" found elsewhere on
this website.
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