The Man Was Stalking Me

The night before this incident, I had been listening to a song that pointed out that what others see in us may be the only Jesus they see. I pondered over this, and prayed that I too, would be like Jesus to others.

I went out to run some errands, and almost ran into another car. The Holy Spirit tried to stop me from going out at that moment, (I sensed Him saying “wait!”,) but I went ahead anyways, figuring it was just my imagination, and not really Him speaking. I was making a turn onto the road and then getting into the left hand turn lane. I looked and could see no cars, so I went. When I was almost in the turn lane, I seen another car in the rear view mirror on that side, (had he hit me, he would have hit my left back tire area,) and I swerved back into the other lane for a moment, (thinking he would then drive past me,) but instead he let me go back into the lane.

The first thing I did was thank Jesus that we had not hit each other, and then continued driving.

Then I realized the man was following me.

He went everywhere I did, and I tried to go to different places to lose him, (perhaps it was just a coincidence that he was still right behind me,) but soon realized that this was no coincidence, and he was stalking me.

I prayed to Jesus to help me, as I pictured all sorts of horrible things happening to me; being shot, being beaten, (satan had fun with this one,) and I pictured myself laying in a hospital bed and having to be there for months just to heal. The worst part, was thinking that this would hinder my children’s faith in Christ.

Then Jesus told me to bind up the man’s demons in His name, so I did.

I called up my husband and told him all that had happened, and he directed me to the nearest CHP office.

On my way there, I thought back to the nightmares that I have had, where someone tries to physically attack me, and somehow the Holy Spirit in me is able to diffuse the situation. As this was like a real live nightmare, I prayed that the Holy Spirit would help me in this real world situation too. I was shaking so badly that it was hard to drive safely, but I was too scared of this man to stop. One of my boys thought I should call 911, but I didn’t sense I was supposed to do that. Finally I came to the CHP and drove in, but there was no one there. They were closed.

I felt all alone.

Then the man drove in behind me and blocked my only way out.

I was trapped!

My husband was still on the phone, (I wanted a record of what happened, just in case,) and so I waited for the man to do what he would do.

He got out of his car and just stood there on the drivers side, motioning with his hands and saying something I could not hear.

So I opened up the window half way.

He looked as if his anger had deflated somewhat, (I sensed it was because I had bound up his demons,) but he immediately began yelling at me, saying “What the *?!?* happened back there!”

So I told him, “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you!”

He held up his hand then and said, “Stop! You just told me what I wanted to hear.”

I stared at him in amazement.

He said, “All I wanted from you is an apology.”

I looked at him in shock. “You mean you chased me all over this city just for an apology?!”

“Yes.”

He then proceeded to tell me about his awful day, and how this near accident had happened to him several times already today, and that mine was the final straw.

I said, “oh you poor man, and then when we almost hit…oh, I am so sorry; I never wanted to cause you any harm at all!”

“Oh,” he said, holding out his arms wide, “you can hurt me all you want, but I won’t let you touch those in this car!”

I said without thinking, “I’d never want to harm you or anyone; it’s against my religion!”

He didn’t say anything to that, he just stood there looking at me.

“I still believe,” I said to him, “that Jesus must have sent down an angel to help keep our cars apart from each other, we were so close!”

He reiterated how he had almost hit me, and how he was responsible for others in the car with him, and that even they were upset over the near hit. He made it sound like I was a very bad person because I had purposely done this to him and his loved ones. (His wife and child were sitting quietly in the car while he verbally ripped me apart.) I thought to myself that my driving record was still pretty good (thank You Jesus!,); the last time I had a fender bender, (it was a scratch in a parking lot,) was over thirty years ago. This guy looked like he hadn’t even spent thirty years upon the earth yet. Apart of me wanted to argue with him, but I was still too afraid of him so I remained silent.

He finished with his attack and then said that he was o.k. now, and was going to go, as he was all right, and (as an afterthought?) I was all right, and that neither one of us was hurt. “See?” he said to me, “that’s all I wanted to do.”

I said to him “May God bless you and give you a better day!”

And then he drove off.

I sat there for over an hour, waiting for the shaking to subside, (I did not feel safe to drive while I shook so much,) and then I went to finish my errands. As I did, I prayed for him and all those in his car, asking the Lord to bring them to Him and make believers out of them. I seen something in him that I once was; a seeker of justice at any cost, even at the cost of others I loved. I felt sorry for him, being buffeted to and from by the winds of chance, and being toyed with by satan. I remembered what it was like, being so affected by such evil, and having to face it without Jesus. There is an emptiness that is always there, along with that self-righteous demon to feed, and a feeling of always somehow being behind everyone else in the rat race and trying in vain to catch up.

When I got home, some of my kids were incensed on my behalf, saying “He had to have been speeding, Mom! There is no way anyone could sneak up on you that fast on that stretch of road without going over the speed limit! Either that, or he came out of a side road just as you did, and tried to get into the same lane as you. You were not the only one at fault, Mom; if you guys had hit, he would have been at fault too!”

“Yeah,” said my other son who had almost come with me on the trip, “I wish I would have been there with you; I would have told him a thing or two! I wouldn’t have let him speak to you like that! I would have called 911 and gotten the cops there to cite him a ticket for road rage!”

A part of me is glad my son did not come with me that day, (guess he stayed home for a reason!,) for things would have come to a very different conclusion had he been with me.

I sensed that the Lord Jesus wanted me to pray for him and his family, and that they needed my prayers and my blessing very much.

I found myself wondering if the Lord had set the whole thing up to happen, just so I would pray for them.

“No Ma Pettite,” He answered me. “I did not.”

Then the piece of scripture that talks about all things working out for the good of those who love Christ Jesus came to mind.

“But I will take the moves of the adversary and use it to my advantage,” He tells me.

I thought of those in the car with him, remembering how it feels to be held captive in a car with an angry driver. Those poor people! Then I wondered what kind of man would drag his loved ones around on such a chase, just to fight for an apology from a stranger. He had no way of knowing that I would do him no harm. I could have been a different person and had a gun and even threatened him and those in his car with it. He obviously was not thinking too clearly either, to take such risks just to placate his self-righteousness demon.

“He was a man who was filled with demons,” came God’s reply.

*

It was several days later, when I realized why what this man did to me is considered an actual crime all its own.

I found that even just the thought of getting into a car again to go somewhere, left me shaking, dizzy, and wanting to toss my cookies. I could not even walk at the thought of driving, because I shook so badly. I started to cry, feeling like a helpless victim, chained down to the house, and unable to go out any more. It was horrible!

I pictured myself having to go to therapists for years and years, and even then not gaining much freedom from the sessions.

But then the words “helpless, victim, therapist” and especially the word “chained” stood out in my mind, till I realized that somehow, someway, I had picked up some demons, and it was the demons that were doing this to me.

I immediately calmed down, and asked someone in my family to cast out the demons from me, and anoint me with the blessed olive oil. The moment they did, I felt at peace once again.

Just to be sure they had really left me, I brought along someone else in the car with me, the next time I went out to run errands, so they could help me fight off the demons if need be. But they are gone for good. Praise Jesus! Truly there is great freedom in Jesus Christ of Nazareth!

Looking back upon the incident, there were times when I felt like I had just let the man and his demons attack me, and that I should have stood up for myself more. This left me feeling frustrated all over again. Finally I went back to the Lord Jesus about it. He then reassured me that I had done exactly as He had wanted me to do. That removed the last of the frustration, and left me with a sense of relief.

Would you pray with me for that man and his family? Pray that they would all come to Jesus and be set free from all the demons that plague them. Pray that they too, would experience the freedom that is found only in Jesus Christ!

*

Romans 8:28 (GNV) “Also we know that all things work together for the best unto them that love God, even to them that are called of his purpose.”

Proverbs 15 (KJV) “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.”

Psalm 23 (KJV) “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

Proverbs 3:25-26 (GNV) “Thou shalt not fear for any sudden fear, neither for destruction of the wicked, when it cometh. For the Lord shall be for thine assurance, and shall preserve thy foot from taking.”

Psalm 27:1-3 (KJV) “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell. Though an host pitched against me, mine heart should not be afraid: though war be raised against me, I will trust in this.”

Isaiah 54:17 (KJV) “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.”

Tidal Waves

A dream…

A tidal wave rolled in to the shoreline, surprising many, even though they had been warned that one might come. Some scoffed, (“That’s nothing!”), others became concerned, for they seen the loss that the wave had brought.

We knew that the place where we were now, would not sustain another wave. So we grabbed what we could, (a change of clothes; a special outfit, some odds-n-ends,) and sought a different shelter.

Many others were seeking shelter in the places that were thought to be the strongest, and it was suggested that we go there too, but I kept telling my children, “No, I will go where my God has told me to go.”

Panic was beginning to sweep over the people, as they watched the next tidal wave come in. People rushed to their shelters, some running to and fro, not knowing what they should do. Some nearest to me had heard what I had said, and then decided to go where we were going, because “If God has told her to go there, then it must be safe!” (They didn’t understand; survival was not my reason for seeking this particular shelter; I went there because God told me to. If it were God’s will for me to die, then at least I would be in the right place at the right time for that to happen.)

We found one of the tallest buildings in the city, (a big high-rise made of brick,) and then went up to the very top, where glass rooms were layered, forming the top floor. We went in, (it was crowded already, but God made room for us,) and then He led us into the next one, and the next, till we could go in no farther. God then told us to make sure all the doors and windows were shut, and then bid us to wait.

We watched the waves as they kept coming in, slowly wiping out the shorter buildings below us. The panic we all felt, was severe. We watched water level slowly rise around us, and feared we too, would drown if we stayed where we were. So we looked to get out and move inland, but when we turned our eyes out to that direction, we seen three men dressed in black fatigues, pointing strange guns at us. I sensed the guns were the cause of the tidal waves, but did not understand how. Then I seen a huge tidal wave coming towards us from behind them, and I wondered, “why in the world would a tidal wave be coming from inland?” The wave advanced along with them, like a well-heeled dog following it’s master. I realized with shock, that they were forcing all the people to stay where they were.

So we remained in the glass house, (the room reminded me of a 10 gal. aquarium,) and watched as wave after wave rolled in, each one washing away more people and more shelters, till the waves reached up to our level. The first wave to hit us did no real damage. The people on the floor cheered. But then the next wave came, ripping off the outer glass section, and carrying away all the people within it. Wave after wave came, removing each of the layers of the glass floor, till there was only our container left. I watched as the last wave formed its hump out over the depths of the ocean and thought, “now it is our turn…”

When the final wave came in, it was more like a swell upon the ocean, for the water was already up to our level. Like a big hand, it gently lifted us up, as the building beneath us dissolved into the water, and carried us along in the wave at great speed, until we found ourselves gently placed far inland, on lush green land. We then looked around and found that only those that had survived by ‘chance’, and those that had listened to the Holy Spirit’s guidance and done His will, had survived. As we climbed out of the shelter, I woke up.

* * * *

A Strange Dream Of A Stranger

     A strange dream- of a stranger.
     Only an hour or so long in reality, but a lifetime in the dream.
     He was an old homeless man who lived out of his car. (The car had deep red seats that could change into a flat bed.)
     He looked like my grandpa, but reminded me of my father.
     He did not believe in Jesus, for the seed of faith that had once grown within him, had been trampled upon and died. (I sensed this had happened in his Catholic past.)
     I met him one day upon my travels, and offered dinner with my family to him. He paused, and I knew then if I ever remarked on his homelessness, he’d be gone. So I did not, but it was hard.
     We grew close to each other through the days, I, the daughter, like the only child he wished he could have had, (he never married or had kids,) and me, he was the father, the relationship, I could have had with my father, had things been different. (If he had known that I forgave him of the physical abuse and that I still loved him.)
     We reminisced, and debated life and God.
     Through the days shared, he seen me work for God, and I could sense him soften somewhere inside. But he never made the choice for God, at least while I was with him.
     Then one day, as I was thanking Jesus out loud, for the seasons of the world – all of them – (it was raining hard,) I stood in the storm shower, and thanked Him for the sun, the storms, the snow…especially the soft crystal-globe snow, that falls like a kiss on the cheek,…-
     He came to me to say goodbye.
     I cried and cried, not wanting him to go, (I loved him deeply already,) but he told me it was his time to go, “he must be moving on,” and as we embraced, I felt the heat of his skin as if it was on fire, and knew that he was sick, and would die. I cried all the harder, all the more, and pleaded with him to stay. But I think he knew, though the words remained unspoken, that I would end up caring for him till he died. And he did not want this – pride or reasons, remained unsaid. And a part of me realized the truth in the unspoken; that I should be about my family’s business, (not consumed by his,) but I still cried and it still hurt.
     I knew then, that his mind was made up and that he would leave to go die.
     So I grabbed his face in my hands, turning it to meet mine, and asked him point blank, “So, will I see you in heaven someday?” And cried all the harder when he would not answer.
     “Well…” he hinged, as he seen the grief in my heart that his answer brought me, and I knew he was going to say ‘yes’ just for me, so I stopped him.
     “No, don’t say it unless you really mean it.”
     He paused and admitted to me, “I don’t know,” and I knew he thought of his past and the church.
     “Don’t let the Catholic Church do this to you!” I said, and sensed it had been like a mantra between us.
     Then he said, “It’s my conscience, you see; there’s something in there still, and it won’t rest.”
     Then I sighed as my heart lifted a little, for I knew then there was hope still that I would see him someday in heaven.
     So we said our goodbye’s and parted, and I cried and cried and cried for days.

*   Then I woke up.
     No tears were upon my face, (not yet,) but the grief within me was hollow, real, and sharp.
     “Was he real, Lord?” I asked out loud, but got no answer at that time. I sensed though, that it was best I pray for him, just in case it was.
     So I went down on my knees before my God, and pleaded his case to Him. “His faith did start to grow, Lord,” I pleaded with Him, “It just got trampled upon by the church. And some of it did survive Lord, for how else could he have come to care for me? Have mercy for him for my sake Lord, please? I’d like to see him in heaven again some day…”
     And as I write this, to record the dream, I cry.
     I cry and wonder, was this a soul on his way to heaven, given a last chance to be loved by another, through my dream?
     Reality enters, guilt washing over me – oh how silly this is, crying for someone I never knew except for in a dream… People would question my sanity, and think I had gone insane. But the energy-in-motion, still deep within me, cries out past those thoughts, and says out loud “Lord, if it be so, then let him in! Let him be with You. Set his spirit free…”
     I sensed a presence in the room beside me, slight, (not overpowering as my father’s had been,) and knew it was the old man from my dream. I sensed him say “thank you,” then give me another hug, and then leave.
     So, o.k., am I nuts? Just the imagination being over active?
     Sigh. All I do know, is that one day in heaven, I will know for sure.
     He sure was ‘neat’ though.
     And in the back of my mind there is a response: “You were to him, too.”
     Later on in the day, as the dusk descends, I recall and remember the odd dream. I remember and cry. I cry for him again, for his story, his life, touched me deeply. I’d like to think (if it really wasn’t ‘just a dream’,) that my tears, my caring, my prayers was not ‘just a waste’ from ‘just a dream’. Was it real? Did a soul, embarked on its journey, stop to reach out to mine in a dream?
     It caused me to pray for him, whoever he was, wherever he spent his life.
     My God answers my prayers; so if he did exist, my prayers were not for nothing!
     But what if it was only a dream? Not real? What then? Have I not just wasted all this time?
     Then my God answered me, softly, surely.
     He placed His conviction upon my heart, and I smiled.
     “I waste nothing.”
     I felt His great peace settle upon my heart once again.
MY GOD WASTES NOTHING.
*