Michael, in Washington tells of a miraculous encounter with Jesus, and the life-changing Power in His Name

Today I am a blessed, and healthy man, with much to be thankful for. Thanks to Jesus, I am free to enjoy life, especially with my wonderful grandson Matthew. The story I want to share with you happened many years ago, but changed my life forever. I know that Jesus is real - I have believed in Him since the day He touched me. 

  I was 13 years old when I had my first schizophrenic episode as they called it, I was truly possessed by demons.  My psychic centers were opened by drugs, LSD and it opened a gateway to them.  I had many demons in my body they were pure evil unlike anything a thirteen year old mind could conjure up or understand.  I have described them as an oozing evil it was dark, dank, and hopeless, and much more than I could handle.  It was like having large stereo speakers pressed to your ears and cranked up loud with screaming evil but it came from inside me and engulfed my spirit with their feelings and thoughts to the point I could barely form my own thoughts.  They were eating my innocence and my soul.  I don't remember much of that time but I do remember being strapped to a hospital bed at Woodside in Vancouver for a very long time.  I also remember how I got there.

 My Mom had taken me to mental health for an evaluation.  When we got to the building she took the elevator it was a very old elevator and I was very paranoid, I took the stairs.  I had no idea which floor I was going to so I ran up the stairs till I got tired then came down and left the building.  I was tripped out completely and it wasn't long before the police wanted to know what I was doing wandering around downtown on a school day trying to get into locked doors.  I was arrested and to make a long story short put in Woodside where they said I was an acute schizophrenic, I said I wasn't that cute.  They didn't laugh, probably heard it before.

  It took six attendants to get me strapped to the bed.  I was bouncing them off the walls, full grown men that were trained in handling mental patience's and I was just a fat little kid.  It was like someone else was controlling my movements.  They strapped me to the bed and filled my veins with medication, like so many psyche drugs of the time, brain rotting medication.  It was at that point the voices that had been in the background took me over, they were evil, vile, wicked, and relentless.  I am not sure how long I was strapped to that bed but it seemed like forever.  It was the most horrible thing I have ever experience and would not wish it on my worst enemy.  I was confused with a buzzing going on with the screaming demons felt like my head was an overfilled water balloon.  Like I said I am not sure how long I was in that state I asked my dad before he passed but he couldn't remember.  They told my parents I was going be this way for life so it must have been awhile on that bed.  I have asked everyone and nobody seems to remember how long I was on there.  I only remember bits and pieces of reality. 

I remember my Dad holding my hand his huge hands rough from working himself so hard all his life.  I could feel the despair emanating from him.  I remember my friend Jack coming in once, but it seemed like it was in a dream.  At some point I started praying to God.  All that religion my Dad shoved down my throat found its way back up, I owe my Dad so much for his stubbornness in that regard.  I prayed for what seemed an eternity.  All I could say was, "Please God take these voices from me."  I could barely form a thought with the screaming voices in my head and the cloak of a throbbing buzz between my ears.  I kept chanting "Please God take these voices from me."  With no results.  Then from the dark emptiness that had become me, all those years of being drug to Church when all I wanted was anything but, paid off. It came from nowhere, I said, "Please God in "Jesus" name take these voices from me."  In an instant, at the snap of your fingers the voices were gone, boooom! Gone, and replaced with a deep inner peace like a breath of fresh air after coming out of a torture chamber.  If that were not enough at the same instant the leather straps loosened.  I was in eight point restraint all those straps loosened at once.  I climbed out of bed stumbled to the bathroom then went out the door.  I was so thirsty from the meds, it felt like my tongue would crack. 

When I came out of the room the nurse at the station looked like she swallowed a live crab.  Here is this maniac that had been bouncing full grown men off the walls and I am sure they had all been warned about me.  I could barely speak from being so drugged which I hadn't even felt until the demons were gone.  All I could muster was to point at my open mouth and in a dry cracking voice say, "water."  She danced around a couple minutes like her underwear caught fire.  Got one of those paper cups full of water spilled half of it from shaking so bad.  Gave it to me I drank it, and thanked her.  She asked me to set on the bed which I did.  They came back in and strapped me to the bed again but could tell something was different and got the doctor to let me up right after. 

They said I was a life long member of the rubber room squad but they didn't know my Dad had made sure I knew about Jesus.  I was released just two weeks from that day.  So you see as far as believing goes - I DO, without question!  I know Jesus is real and I owe Him my soul.  I love Him deeply; He is my best friend.  I told Him if I go to hell, even from the deepest pits I will praise His Name.  Such power in that name!

Michael

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