The Walk Through Hell: A True Story of One Pastor’s Battle with Demonic Possession

Intro

It was the summer of 2013, and I was 40 years old. It would become the Summer I would never forget, the summer my brother took a walk thru Hell. It all began with a phone call from my sister-in-law. As a nurse, I often received calls from various family members with questions concerning their health. However, this particular call was unlike any of the others. When I answered the phone, she immediately began to describe some of my brother’s symptoms. Like many of my family members, she called often with medical questions. This particular call was about my brother. Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine any of the things that my sister-in-law described, nor did I know what it was the beginning of…

His chief complaint was an unusual burning sensation in the arms, legs, and feet. I immediately began to think of medical conditions that would cause the symptoms, eliciting some input from some of my nursing colleagues. They in turn spoke with physicians that they worked with and other nurses. Allergies and nerve- pain were default responses, that had been ruled out and he’d tested negative for all of the other conditions that they suggested. No one could provide an explanation for my brother’s symptoms. Who would have known that at the end of the day, there would be no medical explanation for the symptoms at all?

First, let me tell you a little bit about my brother. He was the third oldest of five children. My parents had three girls and two boys. My two sisters were the oldest, followed by my two brothers and I am the youngest. My parents were great parents. My father a God- fearing man, my mother a devoted Christian. All my life, my parents were always busy taking care of people. As a contractor in the concrete business, my dad owned his own company and he employed many people throughout the small community. My mother was a Beautician and her shop was in our house. We had a chance to be very close to many of the families in our community and surrounding areas, because of the company her livelihood attracted. My father, in addition to providing employment in his concrete business, taught many of them the intricate secrets of finishing cement. He was a firm believer in the biblical adage, if you give a man a fish, you can feed him for a day, but if you teach him how to fish, you’ll feed him for a lifetime.

We were all raised in church, and as long as I can remember, it was all I knew and no other way was accepted. My father began preaching when I was about 9 years old. I think it was around 1980. My brother Joshua began preaching in 1990 at the age of 23. My father pastored my home church (New Glory B.C.) He was my Pastor for 16 years. Most country churches were made up of various families. Victory Missionary B.C. was my father’s family church, and New Glory was my Mothers. My sister Lisa and I joined church with Mom at New Glory, while Joshua, James, and Sarah were all members with Dad at Victory Missionary B.C. Prior to being called to preach, my father had been a deacon at Victory Missionary B.C., which was founded by my father’s great-grandfather. Ironically, my brother would eventually become the pastor of Victory Missionary B.C. He had pastored another Church for about sixteen years without any problems, it was a small congregation. The entire time he was there, you could tell he was loved. Victory is a larger church than the one he previously had pastored. I’ve learned that bigger isn’t always better, and from my personal experiences, a church with too many family members never runs very smoothly. I’m sure my brother would agree. Joshua said he had been called to preach long before he accepted the calling. However, he ran from it for as long as he could. My mother told us that when Joshua was around three years old, he stood next to an elderly preacher and told her that he was going to be a preacher. I don’t know if she took him seriously, but as it turned out he was right. Joshua said that it was seven years that he ran from his calling, and during that time he was blinded. He says he can hardly remember the things he had done during these seven years. He said he had run from his calling as long as he could, but finally decided if given a sign, he would go ahead and profess to his calling. He decided to ask for a sign from heaven, and said he asked the Lord to show him our grandmother (our mother’s mother) who had been deceased since 1978. Joshua said he was awakened by her that same night, and as she stood over him in bed, in a long white robe, she said one word to him, Preach. He started preaching that same year May of 1990 and has been preaching since.

Joshua always seemed just a little different, and somewhat quiet. He was seven years older than me, but I can remember it seemed as if his entire being pertained to horses…he loved them. His passion for horses was firmly established well before he was old enough to be passionate about anything else. Growing up Joshua kept to himself and was quieter than the rest of us. At least, that is what my mom always said about him. Thinking back, I would have to agree. I couldn’t recall a wild side but this could very well be a result of the age difference. As I got older, he and I became indifferent. My other brother (James) and I shared a unique bond. We were thick as thieves so to speak. This was largely due to the fact that our other siblings were out of the house and away at college. This gave us ample time to get into mischief every day. Nevertheless, we were all extremely close to one another. If someone bothered one of us outside of our family, we were all coming after them. The sentiment holds true to this very day. When trouble comes, we pull together no matter what. Therefore, when my brother’s battle began, we were all there for him. When I say all, I guess I should go a little further. My mother had 11 siblings, my dad had seven, and they both made sure we were close to our families on either side. Combining both sides of our family, we had a total of fifty plus first cousins and we were all like sisters and brothers. When I say we all come together in times of trouble, it includes both sides of the family.

My father had become ill toward the end of 2000. After battling the lengthy illness for nearly two years, he died New Year’s Day 2002. Losing our father, who was truly the strength of our family, affected each of us differently, yet the impact was the same. From that moment on, our lives changed forever, but it wasn’t just our lives that would change forever. He was also a pillar of strength for a huge portion of our community as well. Quite naturally, when this turmoil began with my brother, we all wondered how differently it would have been if daddy had just been here.

CHAPTER 1

Prophet Johnson

Hosea 12:10 I have also spoken to the prophets, and I gave numerous visions, and thorough the prophets I gave parables.

After visiting a number of medical doctors over the course of the first few months, a clinical explanation for the strange burning sensations that Joshua experienced never emerged. By now, the searing pain was intensified to the point that he would scream out in agony. Feeling painfully helpless, like the rest of my family, I began to consider the alternatives. Some time ago, my family befriended a Prophet by the name of Prophet Johnson. I initially met him several years earlier, at my first cousin’s house. They were prayer partners. He lived about three hours away in some part of Arkansas, but he came down once a month to pray for people in the community and various members of my family as well.

The first time I met him, I was actually pregnant with my daughter, London. My cousin’s wife Shena and I had gone to meet him, after my mom told us what a wonderful time she had visiting with them. Shena was experiencing some personal difficulties, so we decided to meet with Prophet Johnson for prayer. In the process, he revealed some things to Shena that left her extremely upset. I reached out to console her and Prophet Johnson instructed me to step away. There is something going on with your stomach, you’re pregnant, he said. He was correct, however, I was not showing yet and no one knew except me. That is when I knew for certain that Prophet Johnson was walking in a special gift. In addition to the information that he conveyed to Shena, how in the world could he know I was pregnant? Therefore, on May 25, 2013, I contacted him. I started explaining my brother’s symptoms, and Prophet Johnson literally completed my sentences and my thoughts. After exhausting the entire list of symptoms, he spoke.

He crossed over something, he said and I asked what he meant. He completed what I was saying and then he started again, he crossed over something, there’s a woman at your brother’s church and she does not want him there. She did this to him. Needless to say I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He then told me he would come up the following Saturday to see if he could help.

You almost waited too late. His last comment terrified me, because this clarified what my mom had suspected all along, witchcraft. I shared what Prophet Johnson had told me only with a few people, My mom and two sisters. We pondered over whether we should share what Prophet Johnson said with my brother or his wife. We ultimately decided against telling them, we would let the Prophet share this with them. This would be the longest week ever.

It was finally Saturday, and Prophet Johnson’s visit was highly anticipated by everyone, even my brother who up until this point would not have called a man of this kind for help. It wasn’t that he did not believe in prophets, it was just well-known that my brother’s belief in the power of prayer was stronger. Prophet Johnson arrived and followed my sister to my Mom’s house. Prophet Johnson was a small man, about 5’5. He had dark brown skin and had a somewhat frail appearance. His left arm was in a sling, and he explained that he had just had surgery on his shoulder. You could tell he was all about business, based on the serious look on his face. He arrived at mom’s house and immediately began to tell my brother exactly what he told me on the phone several days before. This time he gave a description of the person he thought responsible. My brother was in tears and disbelief as he tried to accept that someone would actually be so hateful as to try to destroy anyone, but especially a man of God. My mom on the other hand was not surprised at all, she had suspected something like this all along. With that being said, not that I was aware, but the church my brother pastored seemed to have some type of history. Apparently, everyone was aware of the history except us. The church was over a hundred years old and was founded by my Great-Great Grandfather. One would think the congregation would have been proud to have the great grandson of their founder as their pastor, but I was dreadfully wrong. This was the source of my mom’s hesitancy about my brother becoming the Pastor of this church. My first cousin and another distant cousin had come to my mom’s house a few years back when my brother initially became a candidate to pastor the church. My mother conveyed her reluctance about my brother pastoring the Church from day one. Without explanation, she simply stated, I just don’t want him out there. My cousins reassured her.

We will make sure he is all right. Nothing will happen to him, as long as we are there with him, they promised. They were right. While they were there, he was fine. However, one of my cousins passed away in 2012, just a year after my brother accepted the pastoral position. My other cousin was still an active member, but when her husband was called to pastor a local church, her attendance declined. So unfortunately, after this, things started to fall apart.

During the first visit, we could tell that Prophet Johnson was sincere in his concern and actions to help my brother. He literally spent hours upon hours to loosen the hold this thing had on my brother. It was a scary sight as they tossed and turned all over the floor of my Mother’s Den, as he demanded evil spirits to come out. Prophet Johnson was in pain himself because of his recent shoulder surgery, which was a few weeks earlier. He instructed my husband on how to assist by holding his shoulder for him, but it was impossible. My brother’s strength was beyond anything we had ever seen. After seeing my brother’s condition for the first time, Prophet Johnson admitted that it was far more serious than he thought. He said my brother was demon possessed, which confirmed my suspicions. This was the beginning of the possession and I always believed that Prophet Johnson’s early recognition of it awakened the demonic spirit even more. The following days would be difficult ones