SPIRITUAL WARFARE: When Prayers Harm

It wasn’t anything I ever expected to find in my visions.

It started out fairly normally.  I kept being shown that there was a great concern in the world.  A lot of people had the same prayer on their hearts.

So I looked into it.

I found someone who was passionate for this matter.

And had written a number of prayers and posted them online.

Probably I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it.  I read the prayers and was horrified.

So, being a former editor, I ripped them apart and sent the author my insights.

Why pray for understanding when what is needed is food and shelter? 

You see, I can almost claim the world’s championship trophy in understanding.

But all the understanding in the world doesn’t do squat when there’s little money in the bank and food is needed.

One prayer even asked God for the whole world to come to an understanding about this situation.

And how long would that take?  A million eons?

And what should the suffering people do in the meantime?

Be patient?

Oddly, I received a warm and positive response to my comments.

And I felt a whole, positive shift in the prayer that was being presented before God.

Day in, and day out.

So I began to pray along with the other pray-ers.

Day in, and day out.

And then I saw it.

It was deep in the night.

Which is always a bad sign.

Sleep is what is good at night, in my opinion.

Not being jerked awake in sheer terror at what was flooding into my brain.

So I watched.

And here is what I saw:

The prayers were raining down on this specific area of the world.  And, there, there where the prayers should have landed and planted their seeds and wrapped the area with compassion, was something.

Something I had never “seen” before.

It was like upside-down umbrellas were catching the prayers.

And then I watched as a rain of demons collected the prayers before they landed and transformed them into harm.

And then let them fall.

Our prayers of love were being turned into malice.

I was gobsmacked.  To say the least.

How could this be done?

I wasn’t about to ask why.  Evil is a never-ending study, after all.

But HOW was really foremost on my mind.

Finding a way to calm down after what I had seen (I really hate losing sleep over these things, and then having to function the next day without freshness), I took some time to follow the threads that I felt were there.

Animism. 

That was the word that kept coming to me.

Animism is the belief that there is a soul-like substance in everything.  Everything in the natural world has its own spiritual abilities.

So I watched.  And watched.  And watched.

I found myself wishing I could just grasp an understanding of what this was all about.  Praying to the plants and the stars and the rain.

As I watched I couldn’t find the evil.

Or what it was all about.

And then I saw it.

This fight was all about water.

Who on the Earth would control the water in that small section of the world.

And because this perversion of prayer was being done through the prayers to the water itself, whoever was doing this had an advantage over us.

So I kept watching.

And trying to find out all I could about animism.  Who did it.  Why they did it.  How they did it.

It’s a big study.

Too big for the time I had.

So I had to trust in my visions.

And I finally found it.

There was a little, old, curled-over woman, sitting alone in her hut, absolutely focused on the fire that burned before her.

She felt us.

She knew what we wanted.

And, to her, this meant other people sharing the water that was in her area.

And she was going to have none of this.

And I found myself laughing.

The more I studied her, the more I saw myself.

Alone, old, curled-over, absolutely focused.

She was my counterpart on the other side of the world, and the other side of God.

Doing what she thought was best for the people around her.

Well then.

This was the oddest spiritual battle I had ever faced.

Now, you see, women have such an advantage in situations like this.  It’s why we were created the way we were created.

It’s our soul strength.  And what it can do with it.

How it can focus on evil and deal with it.

Men, not so much.

Not in action anyway.  Men are great for defining the need, directing the work, and praying.

But actually fighting evil?

We won’t go there at this time.

And this is why we have a real problem in the world right now.  Well, one of the reasons.  Spiritual women keep wanting to do the work of men.  Walking around altars.  Setting the table.  Serving the meal.  Being nice.

We weren’t designed to be spiritually nice.

We are meant to get things done.

Men can be firemen and policemen and soldiers on the field.

But women are the spiritual warriors.

The ones who hold the line on evil and actually address the problem.

To its face.

But are women interested in this kind of thing?

Hell, no.  Women today are only interested in being what they are not.

Priests.

It’s not for nothing that woman have been labeled witches, and wise women, and healers.  Even hags.

We are the hags.

The Hags of God.

No fancy, embroidered robes.  Or gentle handshakes in the receiving line.

We have our weapons.  They’re just different from what we wish them to be.

And the broom is one of them.

Demons are the minions of the devil.  The devil’s evil is to entice people by convincing them that you can never have enough pleasure.

Hugh Hefner is the ideal devil.

Come, have all the sex you want to.  With whomever you want to have it with.  Eat.  Drink.  Do drugs.  No one can tell you you are wrong.

Well, not so fast, Hugh.  I can tell them that they are wrong.

I have always defined demons as pieces of broken toys: like bits of Lego bricks strewn across the living-room carpet when you come down in the night for a glass of water.

Just pure annoyance.

Weren’t created to cause harm.  But harm they do cause.  And glee they do take in the harm they cause.

Demons.  Almost purely embodied by prepubescent boys.

The only real thing to do with demons is to sweep them back to where they belong: outside the realm of God.

They are, in a way, spiritual refuse.

And this is where the broom comes in.

It’s great for sweeping.

So night after night, playing some constant drum-beating music, I “created” a situation wherein they were facing me.

Just me.

Their crone couldn’t see me.

I imagined that she would never suspect someone coming right into her camp.

And I swept.

For nights on end.

And I crooned to the demons: You have done all the work you were called here to do.  I thank you.  You did a good job.  It’s time to go home now.

I was pleased with the outcome.

The prayer that had originally been presented to God was answered.

The people found safety.  And shelter.  And sustenance.

At least for a while.

Quite a story, I know.

But it’s good to know that not all spiritual things in the universe travel in a straight line.  Or get to where they are headed.

Sometimes they need help to get where they belong.

It’s good to know.

Amen.