Originally Posted by Aknaton
I thought that we could share some experiences with encounters with the devil and how he is defeated through Christ. I believe that this would be of help and am very much excited to hear and read your experiences.
One time In the spiritual realm, I was walking along a gravel road and then all of a sudden, aa swift storm of darkness appeared. Then I was surrounded by dense darkness and then this strange man dressed up like a televangelist appeared and yelled at me telling me to stop reading the Bible and sharing the gospel. He yelled with so much anger, hurling darkness at me and then he pulled the inside of my chest, something that looked like a light; I believe it to be my spirit and the more he tried to pull it out, the more I felt as if I was fading away into death. I tried to re-enter my body but he somehow blocked me from getting back so I had no option but to face him.
Then, I realised quickly that it was Lucifer and began to speak the words of Christ upon him and by some strange miracle, a Bible appeared in my hands and I began to preach the gospel to him until he let go of me and faded away. I then managed to return to my body and was weak for the rest of the day and regained all my strength the next day.
I am well acquainted with the wicked one, and I too have made something of a study of his ways. I have noticed that he seems to have a preference for certain weather and certain times. He definitely likes to show up more when it is dark, and seems to like it when it is very hot. However, he does show up when it is very cold as well. He tends to stay away when it is fair and pleasant, and so it seems he favors the extremes. For example, he rarely shows up for a gentle rain shower, but is almost always with me during a severe thunderstorm.
Like you, I have also found that when he does show up, he seems to have a lot to say, says it with vigor and urgency, and does not seem to be a very big fan of the teachings of Jesus. While we may call him wicked, I don’t think he really means me any harm. What he tells me may not be the truth but I don’t think he is lying to me, as I think he really believes it. I think he really believes he is trying to talk some sense into me and help me out.
He is a distinctly sarcastic, bitter, and mocking fellow, and Jesus is definitely someone he likes to mock.
“Go ahead and treat others as you would like to be treated!” he scoffs. “They will only see it as weakness and take advantage of you.”
“It’s an eye for an eye. Teach them that you are not to be messed with. Enemies are to be destroyed as a lesson to all, not something to be kind to. Don’t be such a damn fool!” he shakes his head.
“Pray for those who persecute you? REALLY? What kind of weak nieve nonsense is that?” he is incredulous. “Look around you idiot! It is a world of predator and pray. Eat or be eaten. Only the strongest will survive.”
“I am sure all of these ‘others’ would do the same ‘unto you’ if you were in need.” He sneers at me, the sarcasm palpable in his voice. “Don’t kid yourself. Go ahead and waste your time and money trying to bring food, shelter, and justice to the needy. You will find they will only squander it.”
His spite shows through a thin veil of pity as he mocks me, “Poor you. You will see you have nothing left with which to secure these things for yourself and your loved ones. Then you and they will be the needy ones. Won’t you?”
“And while we are on the subject, what about those you love and who love you?” He asks me with a tone more of accusation than inquiry. “YES!” He has noticed the look of surprise on my face, “I do speak of love! Are you really that blind to all of the evil ones in the world? You need to make a decision my friend. Are you going to be the hunter or the hunted? There is never going to be enough for everybody, some will always have to go hungry, and some will starve. Others are taking far more than they need. Are you going to fight for the sake of those you love, or are you going to lie down like the lamb and be slaughtered, leaving the fate of your loved ones in the jaws of the lions? What kind of love is that? What a mistake they would have made to choose to love a coward like you. I feel sorry for them!”
His words reverberate through me, carrying deep their judgement and acrimony.
I do my best not to listen to him when he comes around. During the light of day, when the weather is fine, and a breeze is blowing gentle and fresh, I find that if he is there at all, I cannot hear him. But when it gets hot, and I start to sweat and get thirsty, or when it is bitterly cold and I am uncertain of my shelter, his voice grows louder, comes through cleaner, and rings truer. Sometimes, when the weather turns really bad, my senses become heightened as I listen closely to the storm, trying to assess the degree of the threat. With my hearing made that much sharper by the fear and adrenaline, each sentence he speaks seems to be punctuated by the thunder and lightning, and I start to think, and to feel, “Maybe he is right.”