The cutting Edge Of Depression

                                By Phil Scovell

               Most  of  my  adult  life   was  normal.    My  father  died
          unexpectedly when I  was 11 years old  and one year later,  I was
          pronounced  totally blind  after  a dozen  eye  operations on  my
          failing retinas.  Two weeks later I was enrolled in a  school for
          the blind nearly fifty  miles from my home and only  came home on
          weekends.  Otherwise, life was normal.

               I know those events, to some people, were traumatic but that
          word wasn't in my dictionary at the time.  Christians did tell my
          mother, on  the other hand, when I was  a teenager and using LSD,
          shooting up speed/amphetamines, marijuana, hashish and some over-
          the-counter things I prefer not to mention lest some knuckle head
          gets the big idea  to try it for himself, that I  needed to see a
          psychiatrist.  I  wonder why  we never  say they  should see  the
          pastor  over such  things?   I'd be mad  if I  were a  pastor and
          everybody   kept  sending  my  people  I  was  pastoring  to  the
          psychologist  or psychiatrist but it  doesn't seem to bother most
          pastors  for  some  reason.   In  fact,  it truth  be  told, they
          probably send more of their own  people to the shrinks than their
          free advice giving church members do, but I digress.

               As I  married, had children,  and grew older, with  more and
          more responsibilities, my life seemed pretty normal.  My children
          all  could see  normally so  there was  one burden  I could  stop
          worrying  about.   Now  that  I  am  in  my fifties,  all  of  my
          grandchildren see normally,  so there's another burden I can stop
          toting around.  I made  pretty good money for a blind  guy and my
          business was going well and growing.  I have a home,  something I
          never dreamed I'd have, I'm married to the best woman I have ever
          met to  this day so  there's another plus,  and if I were  to sit
          down and  put a pencil to it, sort of speak, I could come up with
          hundreds of things  I am truly  thankful for both as  a Christian
          and a father.   However, and somehow you knew there would have to
          be a "however" in  this story, I had a problem.   I don't think I
          ever mentioned this to anyone over the  years; in fact I'm sure I

               during my mid adult years, I had somewhat of a concern,  oh,
          you could call  it an undeveloped worry, about  knives.  Strange,
          though.  I had knives all over the  place.  Somehow, and for some
          reason, knives seemed  to begin to  bother me later  in life.   I
          wasn't afraid of them and yes, I have been cut by them many times
          over my life, and yes, I carry one in my pocket all the time.  In
          fact, I  sort of liked  knives.  Maybe  I became concerned  about
          them after I made the mistake of asking my father to teach me how
          to clean  the fish  we brought  home all  the time  from a  day's
          fishing at the lake.   Perhaps I watched to many scary movies.  I
          have never witnessed anyone killed by stabbing.  I  mean, no body
          in my family died that way as far as I know and I certainly never
          saw any kid in  my neighborhood cut anybody.   Well, Orville  cut
          his foot real  bad on a broken pop bottle wading in some drainage
          water  but  I  don't  think that  counts  as  far  as  knives are
          concerned.  He  also got his mouth  stuck on a popsicle  once and
          nearly pulled his lips off trying  to get it loose but somehow  I
          think I  am drifting  off topic.   Anyhow, what  I used  to have,
          concerning knives, was some  sort of fear that I might  use it on
          myself.  Well, it wasn't exactly  a fear but more like a  feeling
          at the  time and one I could easily  dismiss by stopping to think
          about knives.  As I said, fortunately I never told anybody  about
          this.  If I had told my mother, she probably would have purchased
          me a new  set of knives for Christmas  and I could have  become a
          collector.   If I had told  a psychiatrist about it,  he probably
          would have put me into  the hospital for a  few days, shot me  up
          full of drugs, and then had  me come in as an out patient  once a
          week for  the next ten  years until my  fear of self  destruction
          were purged from my life.  I'm not sure what my pastor would have
          said because I  don't think it's covered, knives that  is, in the
          Bible.  No, in case you are interested, I wasn't suicidal nor had
          anyone  in my family committed suicide  nor did I know anyone who
          committed suicide.  So what was the big deal with knives?

               I was  praying with a  lady one day  when she told  me that,
          whenever she entered the kitchen  alone, she put her fingers into
          her mouth between her teeth and bit down on them.  Why?   Because
          she was  afraid she would  get a knife  out and do  herself harm.
          The  Lord healed her  of that, you'll  be happy to  know, and the
          interesting  thing  is,  we never  once  even  prayed about  this
          particular thing;  it just went  away with whatever else  was the
          problem.  Isn't the Lord wonderful?  He fixes things without even
          specifically focusing on  certain matters.  At any  rate, back to
          my story.

               In my case, every time, well, nearly every time, I picked up
          a sharp  knife, butter  knives never crossed  my mind  when using
          them, I had  a funny feeling about  them.  What sort  of feeling?
          Well, I  don't know.   I mean, I never  really focused on  it for
          very  long but  something about  sharp  knives seem  to tweak  my
          thoughts.  My  first thought seemed to be related to doing myself
          harm.  Sometimes it was the  possibility, I might do someone else
          harm.   Now,  the question  becomes,  where did  this, or  these,
          thoughts come from and why?  Let me try and suggest some answers.

               First, I was  crazy.  I mean,  after all, I did  play around
          with  drugs  so  it  was  possible I  got  something  screwed  on
          backwards during one of my nine LSD  trips or when I was nineteen
          miles high on speed.

               Secondly, in some Christian circles, I might have been demon
          possessed or, at the very least,  with these sort of thoughts,  I
          could  be demonically oppressed.   Other  than these  two things,
          there wasn't much  else, at the time,  to pen these odd  thoughts

               Let me tell you a story.  I was pretty much a Baptist all my
          life,  although I was born again while  we were in an Evangelical
          Free  Church, but  I think  "Once a  Baptist; always  a Baptist,"
          comes  into  play  when  considering  my  life.   I  mean,  I  am
          Charismatic now, speak in tongues freely, do intercessory prayer,
          spiritual warfare,  talk directly  to demons  in prayer  sessions
          with people if it is necessary, and I believe all of the gifts of
          the  Holy  Spirit  are  viable  for the  Church  in  today's  New
          Testament Body of Believers.   Yet, I have Charismatics accuse me
          of  still being a  Baptist when we  discuss the bible.   This has
          nothing to  do with my story other than the fact, what I am about
          to tell  you I  heard from  a Baptist  preacher with  whom I  was
          employed once upon a time.  The story goes this way.

               This  preacher was at  a church  camp for  kids.   A mother,
          whose son  happened to  be there working  that week,  happened to
          mention  to somebody, that her  son, he was  ten years old, could
          not sleep at night.  He could not fall to sleep easily and he was
          awakened all  the time.  I  believe, if I remember  correctly, he
          had to sleep with the light on, too.

               This  story  was  repeated to  others  until  several people
          became  involved in discussing this  situation so a small meeting
          was called.   Mostly the preachers and  pastors and missionaries,
          who were at the camp, came to the meeting.  They decided, somehow
          and for some reason, this ten year old  boy was being demonically
          oppressed.  So, they called the boy into their small meeting.  He
          wore a baseball cap,  carried a ball glove because  they had been
          playing baseball out  on the field, and they told him they wanted
          to pray  over him.   He  said "Ok,"  and these  Baptist preachers
          prayed and basically told the demon had no authority over the boy
          and to get lost.  The mother later reported her son never had any
          more sleeping problems.

               I am telling  this story  to show that  demons are real  and
          they often  become involved in  the lives of Christians  and even
          children without  our knowledge.   How?   Well, sin  works pretty
          well at  attracting demons.  It is  pretty unlikely, in my story,
          however, that this 10  year old boy was involved  in some heinous
          sin that cause his insomnia.  So what is left?

               Trauma is  a good substitute  for committed sin.   Let's say
          you are a very good swimmer but one day, something happens in the
          pool and you swallow a gallon of  pool water.  I'm exaggerating a
          little there but take it from  me, a little dab of pool water  up
          the old snout does wonders to create a fear level that's  off the
          scale.   So,  anyhow, there  you  are, thrashing  around and  you
          think, "I'm going to die."   Well, there's only one problem  with
          this idea of death and that is, you are two feet from the side of
          the pool and you reach out and pull your head above water.  It is
          a good thing,  too, because all that  water down the  spout makes
          you  puke your  lunch up  over  the side  of the  pool on  to the
          sidewalk.  At least you're not dead at the bottom of the pool but
          for  a split  second  there,  dad gummit,  you  sure enough  were
          convinced  you were a  goner.  The  question is:   Where did that
          thought come from that you were going  to die?  Yourself?  Maybe.
          What if it came from somebody else?  Think about it.

               A very  successful business  man is  seated at his  brightly
          gleaming oak desk, the lemon scented polish still in the air, and
          doing paper work in his  lavish office.  He has just  hung up the
          phone and picks  up a folder he  wants to examine.   Suddenly, he
          thinks, "You  are worthless.   You'll never amount  to anything."
          The odd thing is, the man is a millionaire many times  over, owns
          his  own  twelve  story  building,  and   couldn't  be  any  more
          successful even if he won  the Ed Macman Clearinghouse Give Away.
          Where did that thought  come from that he was worthless and would
          never  amount to anything?  Maybe he  just made it up on his own?
          Really?   A 42  year old millionaire  just suddenly  thinks he is
          worthless and won't ever amount to a thing?  That's even hard for
          me to believe  but it could  have happened like  that.  It  could
          have been something else, too, I'll bet.

               So, you aren't convinced?  Let's try another one.

               A  man is minding  his own business  and walking to  his car
          after work.   He  is  pulling his  keys  out in  preparation  for
          unlocking  his vehicle so he can get  home, eat, and watch Monday
          night  football.  Oh,  I forgot to  mention that he  lives in the
          United States.  People outside the USA will have to rearrange the
          story to fit their  culture.  So, here  he is, as I say,  minding
          his own business and heading for his car.

               A  woman, a  very  beautiful woman,  a very  young beautiful
          woman,  an insufficiently dressed very young beautiful woman, and
          a  woman who is not only  beautiful but has other qualities which
          are generally noticed by men, is standing by his car.  Her car is
          parked right next to his and she is standing there looking at the
          back  tire which is flat.  So what  does this guy do?  Right!  He
          offers to assist in changing her tire.  She is extremely thankful
          and sets off some emotional  and mental fireworks this guy hasn't
          felt since he was 16 years old.  In fact, he figured that part of
          his life was dead and gone.  What do you suppose he  thinks about
          on  the way home?   As he  is congratulating himself  for being a
          good Samaritan, he thinks, "She really liked you."

               "Well, who doesn't," he thinks; "that goes without saying."

          His mind,  or what he perceives  as his mind,  replays the entire
          panorama over again and he  discovers he can easily remember each
          and every detail; absolutely every detail.   By now he is totally
          convinced she liked him.

               "What a woman," his mind thinks.

          He's been happily married, of course, for 23 years.  The kids are
          all  teenagers  but  life at  home  isn't  what  it  used to  be;
          especially with his wife.

               A  very graphic  image flashes in  his mind of  the woman he
          just saw.  I mean, he could smell the lovely feminine perfume she
          was wearing.  He could also  remember a lot of other things  like
          what he  saw when  he was down  on the ground  on his  knees, and
          trying to loosen the lug nuts when  she asked him a question, and
          he  looked up to meet her gaze.   It was everything he saw on the
          way up that he remembered so well.  "Why do beautiful  women have
          to wear skirts so  short, you can see their panties  when you are
          at the wrong  angle? Maybe they do  it on purpose?" he  considers
          the possibility.   Her voice,  too, for that matter,  was musical
          and  when  she laughed  at  his  jokes,  her voice  sounded  like
          tinkling bells.  So, in  a nonchalant way, he decides  that maybe
          he will try  and fine her listed  on the company roster  the next
          day.  Just  to see who  she is,  of course.   What was her  name?
          Freela?   Yep, that  was it,  Freela.   "Can't be  more than  one
          Freela working  for this  small company," he  thinks.   "I wonder
          what sort of a woman would have the name like Freela?"  The light
          changes and he's a little slow pulling away.

               An eleven year old boy is playing  with friends in the front
          yard.  His mother is standing in the grass talking to a man  with
          whom  his  father  works.   "I  think Willie  is  going  to live,
          Noreen," he says confidently.

               "I don't," he hears his mother say.

               The young 11  year old boy runs across the yard, leaps up to
          the  tree stump left over  from the mulberry  tree his father had
          cut down  the summer  before, catapults himself  into the  air as
          high as  he  can.   He touched  lightly down  on  the ground  but
          suddenly, he can't  breathe.  This has never  happened before and
          he panics.   "Your father will  never make  it.  He  is going  to
          die."  He doesn't literally hear the words but he feels something
          terribly abnormal  in the middle of  his chest.   A moment passes
          and his ability to  breathe returns and he  goes back to  playing
          and half listening to his mother and the man arguing about if his
          father is going to live or die.  His father dies a week later.

               What happened  to that little boy?  Did he  feel or hear  or
          perceive something?  Did he make it up?  I know this one is  true
          because I was that little boy.

          * Demonic Talk

               I want  to start out by assuring you that not everything you
          think, or  hear, in  your thoughts  is demonic.   "boy, that's  a
          relief."    However,  anything traumatic  creates  an  atmosphere
          whereby events  can be misinterpreted  without demonic help.   If
          such occurs, however,  it easily opens a way  for unclean spirits
          to offer suggestions.

               Demons  talk.  They  normally talk at  emotional low points,
          traumatic experiences, frightening  events, tragic circumstances,
          when the heart is broken, overwhelming sadness, suffering intense
          pain, during  severe sicknesses  or illnesses, intense  stressful
          incidents  or generally  whenever  the  mind  is  sidetracked  by
          something  out of our control.  Why?  It is easier to fool people
          at these times.  I mean, if you were sitting on your couch in the
          living room and  watching Jimmy Stuart  in your favorite  western
          and a demon  walked in with a baseball bat and clubbed you to the
          floor and then hit and kicked and spit on you, what would you do?
          You'd spring  to your  feet fighting mad  and start  swinging and
          would probably get  the baseball bat away  from him and belt  him
          into next  week.  But demons  don't do that.   So what is  it you
          think they do?

               You are tired and exhausted from a hard days work.   You can
          barely keep your  eyes open but you  love the Leave It  To Beaver
          reruns so you are trying to watch it.  A demon comes in and says,
          "That woman  you saw  today was sexy."   Now  you are  wide awake
          because the  images the  demon brings with  him are  slapped into
          your mind and  you see everything and some things you realize you
          really wish  you could see  which weren't visible.   Guilt floods
          your mind and suddenly you recall what  Jesus said, "But I say to
          you,  That whoever  looketh  on a  woman to  lust after  her hath
          committed  adultery  with  her already  in  his  heart," (Matthew
          You don't even remember ever  memorizing that verse. In fact, you
          know it  was never  taught in  Sunday school  when you  were five
          years old.  So where did that verse come from?  Maybe your pastor
          used  it in  a sermon.   Sure, that  must be it.   So  how did it
          spring to  mind now?   the voice, which  quoted the bible  verse,
          sounded  amazingly like  your own.   Well,  what do  demons know.
          They aren't  Bible scholars or  anything, after all, but  you get
          the message.  You silently pray and  confess your sin of thinking
          such terrible thoughts.   Unfortunately, the images won't go away
          nor will the unholy desire.

               You jabbed the  television off and head out  to the kitchen.
          There you fix a large ham and cheese sandwich.  Going to bed on a
          full stomach always helps you go to sleep so you gobble  it right
          down  and wash it down with a big  glass of milk.  Off to bed you

               Laying in bed, you listen to your wife's rhythmic breathing,
          she went to bed an hour before you, which is something she always
          does,  and it  always  makes  you mad,  although  you have  never
          figured out why.   Laying on  your back, you  try and relax  your
          body but your mind is wide  awake.  The woman you saw springs  to
          life right there before your very eyes.  The only problem is, she
          is  attired in loose  fitting, translucent, pale  green lingerie.
          You grown but the picture stays.  Your mind begins playing tricks
          on you Moments  later, the tension  rises to a level  you haven't
          felt  for a mighty long  time and you  find yourself feeling even
          more guilty after gratifying your  lustful desires.  Guilt floods
          your mind and you kneel by the bed and repent; promising never to
          do it  again.   You fall  asleep thinking,  "I am  45 years  old.
          What's wrong with me."  Less  than a week later, you have  dialed
          up dozens of porno sites on the web and you feel terrible.  After
          awhile even the guilt fades.

               Most people would think this  story is normal.  I mean,  the
          man is a  normal man and  he has God  given tendencies which  the
          story implies isn't being satisfied at home.  Is it normal?  Does
          he have no control over his  thoughts or is there something  else
          helping him?

          * Demonic Fear

               I was counseling with a friend  of mine one day and he  told
          me  an  amazing  story.    He  came  from  a  very  dysfunctional
          upbringing and lived in  a lot of sin as an  adult before getting
          born again.    One day,  he told  me, that  his  father took  him
          hunting.  While they were out in the woods, and totally alone, my
          friend told me that he was walking  near his dad with his shotgun
          and suddenly, out  of the clear blue sky, he felt the coldest and
          most fearful  thought he  had ever experienced.   He  believe his
          father was  going to  literally kill him  with his  shotgun while
          they were  out hunting.  He was only 12 years old at the time.  I
          asked him  why he thought this but the  only reason he could come
          up with  was that he  knew his father  hated him.  There  was, in
          fact, another reason he felt this fear at the time.

               A client  recently told  me that an  acquaintance of  his no
          longer can take  a shower unless  the shower curtain  or door  is
          clear.  Why?   He watched a  horror movie that frightened  him so
          severely, he cannot shower without  the fear rising up within him
          unless he can see out of the shower stall.

               Remember  when  Jaws, the  shark  story,  came  out?    Many
          Christians thought it to be a  harmless movie.  It wasn't.   Many
          Christians admit  to  an abnormal  fear they  began having  after
          watching that movie.

               A man I know, who has been in  Christian counseling for many
          years  and  deals  with   demonic  influence  in  the   lives  of
          Christians, told me this story.

               A man came to him once with horrible fear.  He could not, he
          admitted, sleep at night without his light burning brightly.  The
          darkness frightened him more than he could describe and he was an
          adult.    Further more,  he  was  a  roofer, by  trade,  and  had
          developed the fear of heights.  Also, he had something else that,
          you could  say, bothered him just a little  bit.  He had thoughts
          of killing his pastor while he sat  in church and listened to the
          sermon.  Try  telling that one to  your doctor and see  where you
          end up.

               Furthermore,  as the  counseling  sessions progressed,  this
          fearful man asked the counselor if he would mind removing a glass
          of  water which  the counselor  had  sitting on  his desk  within
          reaching distance of  the man.  My friend said he would but asked
          the man in his office why he wanted him to remove the glass.  The
          man confessed that he had the feeling  that he wanted to take the
          glass, break  it, and  kill my counselor  friend with  the broken
          shards.  The glass was removed from sight.

               As the counseling sessions progressed, come to find out, the
          Christian man we  are talking about went to see the Exorcist when
          it  first came  out.   Prayer  was conducted,  once the  original
          source of the fear was located, and he instantly no longer wanted
          to kill  his pastor and  he discovered  he no  longer needed  the
          light  on in his room at  night just to fall  to sleep.  One day,
          while working  on a roof, something  crossed his mind.   He stood
          straight  up, walked  right over  to the  peak of  the  roof, the
          highest point, and on the very  edge, looked straight down to the
          ground.  Laughing to himself, he returned to his work because his
          fear of heights was totally gone.

          Thinking about knives, for me, made he feel fearful.  Something I
          could feel made me wonder if I would, or could, use a sharp knife
          to harm myself.   I always ignored these thoughts, which,  by the
          way, did not come  to the surface all  the time.  I still  had no
          idea  where these  thoughts originated.   I  didn't want  to hurt
          myself nor anybody else.   Yet, the knife, in my  hand, sometimes
          made me wonder.

               You  will be very  happy to know I  never killed anybody and
          that I never even harmed myself with a knife.  In fact, now, when
          I get a knife out of my pocket for something as simple as opening
          a  sealed box,  I test  myself  by briefly  concentrating on  the
          knife.   What  do you know?   No  sinister thoughts ever  come to
          mind.  Why?  Because the unclean spirit, sometimes called demons,
          can't speak to  me any longer  because their right  to do so  was
          taken from them when I was healed.    "Oh, really?"  Yes, really.
          "And  why not?"   Because I have  been healed in  areas that have
          denied them access.  "Well, what if  it ever happens again?  Have
          you ever thought  about that?"  No, I have not thought about that
          but if  it  does happen  again,  I know  exactly  what to  do  to
          discover the source  and origin  of the  lie.  The  last thing  a
          demon wants is for you to be healed of any emotional woundedness.
          Why?    Because  it is  the  only  way they  have  at  working at
          deceiving  people and  keeping  them  guessing  and  off  balance

          * The Nature Of Demons

               Demons,  unclean spirits,  devils, or  however  you want  to
          address  them, have  no bodies  of their  own.   They are  fallen
          angels.  This  isn't a Sunday school  lesson so I'm not  going to
          quote  chapter  and  verse  to  prove  everything  I  am  saying.
          Regardless, when the fallen angels were cast out of Heaven, along
          with Satan, they  discovered they had no glory of their own left.
          Those angels who belong to God do have glory and some  even shine
          with brilliant light.   The light, however,  comes from God.   So
          those angels  who were kicked  out of Heaven lost  that glory and
          they have no physical bodies.  If they did, they would be able to
          walk right up  to you  in a  physical body, and  while trying  to
          carry on  a conversation with  you, get you  to sin.   Since they
          cannot do this, being bodiless  and all, they are limited to  one
          area of exposure.   That's in your mind and emotions.   Demons do
          have feelings but they are always negative, or evil feelings, and
          they can put those feelings upon  you and fool you into  thinking
          those feelings are truly your own.  If you are thinking that is a
          pretty dirty trick, you would be right but demons never play fair
          and they never  tell the truth unless  they are forced to  do so.
          How can they be forced to tell the truth?  That comes later.  For
          now, it is important you know how they behave.

          * Hearing Demonic Voices

               Demons normally  start out  by implanting  a single  thought
          into your thinking stream.  It is so quick and easy, you normally
          think it is your own thought.  For example, "I'm not  a very good
          Christian.   If I were,  this wouldn't  bother me like  it does."
          That seems harmless  enough and you  normally quickly agree  with
          such a  thought that has  been plugged  into your  consciousness.
          After  all, according to  the Bible, you  are nothing.   At least
          that is what the pastor said last Sunday in his sermon concerning
          humility, so it must be true.

               Now, other stressful events begin  to occur.  Your boss gets
          mad at work.   You lose your job  and the bills start coming  due
          and you can't  pay because you don't  have a job.   Quite simply,
          the  thought of, "I'm not a very good Christian.  If I were, this
          wouldn't bother  me like it  does," now  seems really true.   For
          some  reason, you begin to search around for other conformational
          events which prove this  thought and you find a bunch.   Your dad
          used to always say you'd never amount to anything.  Your mom even
          said once  that she wished you'd never been born.  That's similar
          to what you are thinking.  What  about Philippians 4:19?  "But my
          God shall supply  all your need according to His  riches in glory
          by Christ Jesus."  Well, that promise doesn't  seem to be working
          so maybe your  original thought was  true: "I'm not  a very  good
          Christian.  If I were, this wouldn't bother me like it does."

               Going out  to the  mail box  a few  days later,  you have  a
          single letter.   Tearing it  open, you  read that  you are  being
          turned over to  a collection agency for nonpayment  of some bill.
          Your eyes cloud over  and you feel  raw cold freezing fear  which
          you have never felt before.  Your heart pounds so hard, you can't
          breathe.  You hardly make it back to the house and  you literally
          fall forward on  to your hands and knees upon  entering the front
          door.  "You're having a heart  attack," you think.  At least  you
          think  it is but  somehow the thought  seems to have  body to it;
          whatever  in the world that  means.  You  literally crawl on your
          hands and knees into your kitchen and pull yourself up by holding
          on to the edge  of the sink.  You fumble for  a glass and finding
          it, you manage,  barely, to get  the water turned  on.  the  cool
          drink seems  to slow things  down and  you breathe  deeply a  few
          times.  Your heart slows down a little.  You wonder what happened
          to you.  Could you be  having a heart attack?  That's  within the
          realm  of  reason at  your  age  but  somehow you  aren't  really
          convinced  of that yet.   You suddenly  think, "I'm  not going to
          make it.  I'm going to lose  everything."  Reaching for a kitchen
          chair, you collapse  into the chair; dropping the  glass of water
          to the floor.   It's a plastic glass, fortunately, and it bounces
          around for awhile; spilling water  everywhere.  You stare down at
          your table.   It  is long  and flat  and narrow  and cold to  the
          touch.  Suddenly,  your mind thinks of  a morgue and you  can see
          yourself naked and laid out on top  of the table in some hospital
          some  place, your  cold stiff  body covered  with a  white sheet,
          after  having a heart attack.  You  scream but don't even notice.
          Somehow, you  drag the  phone off the  counter and  after several
          attempts, you get  a friend on the  phone.  They come  right over
          and take you to the emergency room.

               the EKG shows your heart is fine, other than a heart beat of
          135, but after describing the other  events to the nurse, she has
          a  mental  health care  giver come  to  talk with  you.   You are
          prescribed some pills  you have never heard of  before, and can't
          even  spell,  but  promise  to  take  them  just  as  instructed.
          Furthermore, you  go to  see  your doctor  the  next day  and  he
          confirms you are having  Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, something
          you  have  never  even  heard   of,  but  he  recommends  a  good
          psychologist for you to see.

               Soon you  are in  the office of  the psychologist  and still
          your mind seems foggy.   Your insurance hasn't run out  yet so it
          is paying for  this visit so that  is one less thing  you have to
          worry about.

          * Fractured Spirituality

               Over the years,  I thought the measure of  spirituality in a
          Christians life  was somehow based  on how many things  you could
          conquer and no longer had to worry about.  The problem was, about
          the time  I turned 50  years of age, I  discovered I had  tons of
          things to  worry about that  I couldn't do  anything about and  I
          freaked out.  I began not eating and I went for five days without
          sleeping.  I was so dizzy and my mind  so foggy, thinking was the
          hardest thing  I could do  and when I  did think, I  somehow only
          thought of how nothing was going to work out for me.  I wanted to
          die.  When I saw  one of my knives, I hid it lest I be tempted to
          use one on myself some day.   Just touching the knife flooded  my
          mind with horrible  frightening thoughts.  The  vocal suggestions
          in my mind turned to something real and alive and authentic.

               * Free from Demonic Thoughts

               About  this time,  some people  say,  "Oh, sure.   I'm  born
          again. Nothing has ever happened liked that to me or anybody else
          I know."  I trust that is true but I will bet  my last dollar, if
          I was a  wagering Baptist, that you have  simply never recognized
          it  for what it  was.  That's  ok; you  don't have to  believe in
          demons.  For those who even remotely  thing such a thing may have
          occurred  in your life, there is a remedy.  No, it is not joining
          the best and biggest church in town,  No, it isn't going to Bible
          college or  seminary.    No, it  isn't  memorizing  10,000  Bible
          verses.   No, it isn't  reading your Bible  every day for  thirty
          minutes.  No, it isn't water baptism.  No, it isn't  being raised
          by a Christian  mom and dad.  No, it isn't  being sinless in your
          every day  life.   No, it  isn't how  much money  you put in  the
          offering plate.  No, it isn't who  your pastor is.  No, it  isn't
          if you  play on the  worship team or sing  in the choir.   No, it
          isn't the part  you have memorized in the Christmas play.  No, it
          isn't  even if you are a pastor, missionary, evangelist, prophet,
          apostle,   Sunday   school  teacher,   youth   pastor,  Christian
          counselor,  Seminary professor,  usher, elder  or  deacon in  the
          church or  on the board.  Demons  aren't particular and will talk
          to anybody  and everybody  who will listen,  including you.   So,
          now, what?

               Of  course, the  Word of  God is  our first  defense against
          demonic intrusion.  Having good prayer partners always  creates a
          good line of defense  as well.   Prayer partners only work  well,
          however,  if they understand the  nature of spiritual warfare and
          know how to deal with demonic manifestations. Even then, it isn't
          what they are  doing that works, it  is what the True  Lord Jesus
          Christ does in a prayer session.

               By  far the most  successful defense is  intercessory prayer
          which is conducted in such a way that implanted lies of the Enemy
          are located by  the Holy Spirit and  the truth of the  Lord Jesus
          Christ brings His truth right into the event.

               If you  wish to  ask more questions  about this,  or if  you
          would like  to begin a regimen and regular prayer sessions to get
          at  the  root of  the things  that  bother you,  call  Safe Place
          Fellowship.  First read all the articles and booklets on the site
          because many of  your questions will be answered.   Otherwise, if
          you don't  want to  take the time  to do that,  just pick  up the
          phone and dial  the number below.   When you hear the  voice mail
          message come on, leave me your name and number and the  best time
          to call, and I will call you back as soon as possible.

          Phil Scovell
          Safe Place Fellowship
          Denver, Colorado - Mountain Time Zone

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