Post College Deliverance Testimony

During the middle 80’s, not long after I came back from
college, I had an interesting experience.

I was mowing grass for
the church I was attending at the time. I think the church was
between pastors that summer. The parsonage basement was
left open on mowing days by the church deacon so I could get
water and use the bathroom.
Once when I went into the basement this thing like a large ugly
baby with leathery light gray skin and long ivory claws jumped
onto my back. I could only see a shadowy impression, as if
looking through smoke or murky water, but I could feel
it. Where its claws dug in, even though they didn’t physically
puncture my skin or draw blood, it was quite painful.
The imp kept up a constant chatter of profanity and mad
giggles. I couldn’t get it to go away, so I went back to mowing
lawn. After I’d finished mowing, I went home and put up with
it for the week, too proud and embarrassed to ask for help.
When I went to mow the church lawn the next week, my
mentor in Jesus, Ernie, drove up. He was an elderly Christian
who had been given the left foot of fellowship, a year or so
before that, from my church, for being too Pentecostal.
I usually visited him and his wife once per week to fellowship,
but had skipped the prior week. Ernie tooted his horn, so I
shut down the mower and walked to his truck.
Ernie rolled down the window and excitedly exclaimed, “The
Lord sent me over! He said you were in trouble! Get in, I’ll
take you for a ride and you can tell me what’s going on.” I
started feeling kind of dazed and didn’t say anything. Finally
Ernie asked me if I was mad at him. After a few seconds I had
replied that I wasn’t. Ernie then asked, “What’s going on
then?”
I told him about the imp on my back and we prayed together.
We released it from its assignment, and ordered it to leave. I
think Ernie told it to go to the Abyss and not come back. It
left. [Later, it did come back a few times, when I was alone, but
it wasn’t resistant like the first time. Ernie had said that if it
did come back, I’d have to order it to leave in Jesus name,
believing that even if it resisted, it would, because of the blood
and Jesus name, only be able to resist for a short time. I think
Ernie had also said to make sure to send it somewhere like the
Abyss so that it wouldn’t just hang around the area and
torment someone else.]
About thirty minutes following our ride in Ernie’s truck, we
returned to the church property. Ernie and I then went into the
parsonage basement, anointed it with oil and prayed. Ernie
had shared with me that, according to local legend, a former
pastor had killed his wife in the parsonage basement and had
made it look like a suicide. I am not going to name the pastor,
but I remember him well, even though I had only attended one
of his services with my step-grandmother. His assistant pastor,
who left when that pastor had been asked to leave the
church, was a local masonic leader.
This is a testimony that I gave for Dr. C. K. Quarterman’s Deliverance Ministry.