We walked into a small shop and immediately felt a dark, heavy presence in that spiritual world around us. Hanging on the walls were dozens of demonic symbols and ornaments. I’ve felt this feeling plenty of times before, most strongly in places like mosques or Hindu temples. Within a couple of minutes of stepping inside my teammate asked, “Do you feel that?” and I just said, “Yes.” After several months in Southeast Asia, Central America and even the Middle East I had become all too familiar with what happens to a place that the enemy has a hold on.
I silently started praying that God would cast out anything from that shop that was actively fighting against God. I knew that there was a demon who was either present or regularly visited that place. I followed my teammates ratherly blindly, my main focus being on prayer. This is God’s world and His creation, and as His redeemed son I was claiming this piece of it back against any stronghold the enemy might have built there. I was vaguely aware that my teammate was trying to start an intentional conversation with one of the ladies working at the back of the shop, and so I poured more prayer into her that God would give her the words to say. But before anything could come of it, our host said it was time to go and we left.
We walked through the streets and visited a few more stores, uncomfortable and uneasy. Even if none of us said it, I could tell the entire team felt something nagging at us to go back. But I was just relieved to be out of that demonic presence. If you haven’t experienced that feeling before there’s no way I can give it a satisfying description. But it is a sick feeling that makes you want to kick filth from your shoes and take a shower.
Finally, my teammate said what we were all thinking: “I can’t stop thinking about that store.” I did not at all want to go back there and face that demon, but I remembered God’s word and my own past experiences that said the Holy Spirit dwelling inside of us is stronger and more powerful than any fallen angel. So I asked, “Do you want to go back?” and we all agreed yes.
We asked our host to wait in the car for one quick second, and then we huddled and prayed outside of the shop. “Please go before us, Lord;” “bring specific scriptures to our minds;” “burden her heart until she seeks peace.” We reentered the shop, and it felt light. Almost like when you’ve been carrying a backpack all day and finally take it off: you’re tired and exhausted, but you feel like you’re floating. I am convinced that the demon or demons that had called that place home had been cast out.
We ended up talking to a young lady who was born in parts of the world I’ve visited and shared my fascination with history. It quickly became a sweet conversation and I could tell she had gone from worker-required-to-be-friendly-with-customers to genuinely relaxed and enjoying the time with us. But outside of a fun time there was nothing in the conversation that was remotely evangelisitic or disciple-making, which was the goal in us going back in the first place.
I silently prayed that God would turn the conversation into something with spiritual or eternal value, and immediately felt the need to ask her, “What do you need prayer for?” My first thought was, “That’s forward and going to chase her away,” but it was such a clear answer to my prayer that I felt like a bratty kid to ignore it. So I said, “Hey, this is really random and maybe a little awkward, but is there anything you need prayer for?”
She paused for the briefest of seconds, but she smiled and a moment later her eyes teared up. Obviously I’m not going to share everything here, but she opened up to us and explained her situation. After asking for permission, I put a hand on her shoulder and prayed a very short and non ritual prayer.
Once I was done praying another customer showed up and our new friend had to get back to work, but she was genuinely appreciative of our prayers. Out of the blue a verse popped into the head of my teammate and she quickly asked me to look up its verse and chapter. Once I found it, I saw that it was unmistakably tied to our friend’s needs and my prayer. My teammate writes it and her contact information down and hands it to our friend, and she serves her other customers with the most nourished of spiritual smiles.
Just to clarify, this did not happen in the Central American jungles or outside some folk shrine. This happened right here in the United States last Friday. My team consisted of myself and my friend Lindsey, and our host was Lindsey’s grandmother. Spiritual warfare, street evangelism, and taking moments out of your day to love your neighbor are real and effective; and they are real and effective where you are right now.
I’ve made a blog sharing what the World Race has taught me and how it has changed my life, but one thing I haven’t mentioned is that it showed me how much I was missing out on. Sharing Christ-like love is beautiful, engaging in spiritual warfare is empowering, and praying for and with strangers is rewarding. Don’t miss out; go love your neighbor.
