It was my last day at Challenge Farm. The next morning, I was leaving to visit some of the D squad women in Nakuru with Helena for a few days before debrief.
After a normal day on the farm, I decided to film my “This is Where We Live” video that I shoot every month, usually on the last day I'm at a ministry site. So I walked out of the bunk house and out of our gate that opens up to the rest of the farm.
I shot the farm for a few minutes, saw some of the kids, did a close up of the cows that roam everywhere, and then turned to walk back in the gate of the guesthouse area, where we actually lived. I started on the right side of the area pointing out the vehicles, the water tower, and the house. As I was doing this I heard someone behind me.
I turned to see Erica and almost turned my camera to film her when this statement came out of her mouth as if it was the most natural and logical thing to say. As if we said it every day.
“We're casting a demon out, if you'd like to come.”
I wanted to say A LOT of things after hearing that statement. Like, "EXCUSE ME, WHAT?!?!" But instead, I just said,
"Okay."
The camera goes blank after that. I walked into the bunk house, told the rest of the girls, grabbed my water, and walked back out.
One by one girls walked out of the house and over to pray together and before the prayer was finished, all the girls who were around had joined us to go help as well.
So then we all kind of looked at each other for an awkward moment, turned, walked out of the gate and across the farm to the Social Work Office.
As we took one stride after another silently across the soccer field, the only thing that crossed my mind was that it looked like we were marching into battle– because we were. None of us really knew what we were walking into and some of us didn't even know if we would even go in the room.
Well, we all went in the room, except one. [She stayed outside doing what she felt was best, loving on the children and singing worship songs. It was beautiful.]
As soon as I walked in the door, I could feel the heaviness, the darkness… the oppression. As I stook in the hallway, I could see the social worker, Helena, and now Erica on the ground holding a little girl. Her name is Purity, she's 10 years old, but right now, Purity isn't here.
But a demon is.
As I surveyed the scene, Mama Cheri, the director of the school, quickly walks past me to join everyone else on the floor. They have her sitting up in someone's lap, but they have to hold her arms down otherwise she'll hurt herself or someone else.
It's not a pretty sight, but in Africa, a land where witchcraft is prevalent, this is more normal that you'd think.
After looking around for a minute, I walked into the room along with the rest of the women. I guess there was about 8 or 9 of us, I really don't know. I'm unsure of what to do honestly and so is most of the rest of us. Slowly, we spread out to different parts of the room, I start to pray and intercede for this little girl.
Some of the women are overwhelmed by the situation including myself. Some of us have tears in our eyes, all have a look of concern. It's a helpless little girl.
Praise God for our authority in Jesus name and the MIGHTY power of God.
Mama Cheri continues to speak words of life and affirmation over her. We all pray in Jesus name for the demon to leave. We sing praises to invite the presence of the Lord into that place. We command it to leave. We speak scripture. We pray for guidance, discernment, and victory.
It fights, it mocks.
We ask it what it's name is in English. Purity doesn't speak or understand English. It answers in English, "Someone."
It understands everything we say. It's weird.
Eventually, I go nearer to lay my hands on her and pray. I take over for Helena, who had been in there fighting for over 2 hours. Now, I'm the one holding this demon possessed little girl.
Anger burns through every part of me. How dare the enemy touch a child. How dare it attack the innocent. How dare it think it will win. But that's the enemy, that's what he does.
It's the angriest I've been on the entire race, by far. More angry than when I saw people living in dumps and hungry children with no food, and even more angry than when I saw one of my friends get bought out of a bar…
I wanted to punch the devil in the face. I still do, actually.
But all I could do was pray, because this wasn't the enemy. This was one of his little minions he sent to do the dirty work in the body of a little girl. It was leaving though, it had no choice. Purity was going to be free, even if it took all night.
By this point, it's been hours since this all started, she was weak and so was the demon. The flight's almost over.
We sing Jesus loves you, and she LOSES it. Hands over her ears, thrashing back and forth, freaking out at the name of Jesus.
There is power in the NAME. I saw it.
A while later, one of the women and I went outside to pray around the building. By the time we came back inside, she is standing up again and speaking in Swahili. Purity was back. Just like that, she was herself again. The demon was gone.
Thank God.
We continue to pray as Mama Cheri, the social worker, and one of the dorm moms continue to talk to her in Swahili again. Eventually, they lead her outside to go find her best friend. A few minutes later we all walk out, too, and back to the house. We're all a little shocked, so much so we have a "demon debrief" with Mama Cheri that night. We had A LOT of questions… it was a long talk.
Oh and I forgot to mention, one of the crazest thing? Purity didn't remember anything that happened at all.
Imagine blanking out with three people in the room praying for you and come back to reality and there being 10 to 15 people all around you, looking right at you. Poor thing.
But Praise God that we always have the victory and God gave us the victory over the enemy that day.
It's easy to say that spiritual warfare got A WHOLE LOT more real for me in those moments. It was the first time I'd ever seen someone demon possessed before… and well, it was something else and there's no denying the reality when you're the one helping to hold the little girl down and praying over her.
So if you were questioning, demons are real. Promise. I saw it. First hand.
But really, this is only part of the story. I was only there for the very end of the entire situation.
If you'd like to read the entire story, please read Erica's blogs here:
DISCLAIMER Part One: God. Is. Real
and
DISCLAIMER Part Two: I Spoke to a Demon
and Helena's blog here:
So I Cast Out Demons Today
They were the ones who really fought this fight, we just came in at the end to help.
