It started out as a rash, a small one on my side, like a patch of poison ivy. I had been cleaning out a wooded area for several days messing with vines and brush and debris, so catching poison ivy wasn’t unusual even if it was mid-February. A day or two later, my head started to ache. Overnight the feeling changed from a dull ache to the constant tightening of a vice on both temples, accompanied by a 10-pound hammer smashing over and over onto my anvil-like forehead. I was miserable! I had experienced migraines as a child. They must have returned. Another day passed, and I was begging my doctor for the strongest migraine medication available. That didn’t help any more than the poison ivy cream was helping.
Two days later, I wound up in the hospital with a case of shingles (which I had never heard of before) and spinal meningitis - the viral variety not the bacterial type - not so great for me, but not bad for the people around me. After a few days of intravenous antiviral medication and some seriously strong pain medicine, the hospital staff sent me home; there was nothing else to be done. I wasn’t contagious. I wasn’t dying. The virus would run its course. No problem…for them.
The problem for me was the pain. I had never experienced such constant excruciating pain before: all through my head, in my neck, and running down my spine. Light hurt. Sound hurt. Sitting hurt. Laying down hurt. Standing hurt. For all intents and purposes, I was completely incapacitated. For weeks I laid in bed, so sick I could scarcely move. Keep in mind that while trying to care for my needs, my wonderful wife Jessica was also taking care of a three-year-old Makayla, two-year-old Nicholas, and infant Rebekah, as well as Brian and Destiny every other week.
I had been administered to in the hospital, but again I called for the elders, and then again, and then again. Five weeks went by from the time that I had come home, and still the headaches and neck aches persisted. I still couldn’t stand up without the pain creating wave after wave of nausea. While I should have been ramping up for the busiest time of a landscaper’s year, I was laying in bed with a pillow over my head.
I started visiting my chiropractor thinking that if he could just adjust my neck and stretch out the vertebrae, perhaps the headaches would resolve themselves. Adjustments just made me sick though, as did the acupuncture he tried (I’ve never liked needles, but now I have a distinct distaste for them, especially when they are dangling from my face and forehead). Another administration came and went without a healing, without relief. Desperation and depression were setting in.
Sure that a good massage and neck popping would be the ticket this time, I again visited my chiropractor, also an elder in the restoration. I walked into the clinic without an appointment, and a man I had never met before, nor since, stepped over to me, introduced himself, and announced that I needed an administration. I thanked him for his concern, and countered that I needed my vertebrae separated.
“No,” he said, “you need an administration.” I told him I had been administered to at least six times in as many weeks and really wanted a heating pad on my neck and head, followed by a nice adjustment. He was quite gracious and asked if I was looking for a healing. I told him I would settle for just a little relief, but yes, a healing would be nice. We compromised: an administration first followed by a chiropractic adjustment—no acupuncture.
I did not believe I would be healed, and I was not, but the moment the elders put their hands on my head something happened. Then he started to speak.
He told me first that the Lord was with me, that the Lord knew of my struggles and was carrying me. He said that the Lord wanted me to know that the sin that I battled with was forgiven through the blood of Jesus Christ. At that moment, a weight that I didn’t know I had been carrying lifted from my shoulders. I hadn’t realized how heavy the burden of my sin was. Jesus Christ took that burden from me right then and there at that moment.
Surely all of us have seen the movie, or the play, or the musical about Scrooge. At one point old Jacob Marley swoops through the air weighted down with what looks like several hundred pounds of chains around his shoulders and neck. It was the heavy weight of chains just like Jacob Marley’s that I shed, or rather that Christ took from me that day. I wept openly in my new freedom.
Five days later I sat in church, still very much in pain. I couldn’t keep from squeezing repeatedly at my neck trying to release the tension or relieve the pain or something, anything! After the service, as I walked across the back of the sanctuary hurting frustrated and down, my dear friend Susan pulled me aside, placed the palm of her right hand on the exact spot from which most of the pain seemed to be radiating, just at the base of my skull, and she prayed. She asked the Lord to release me from my pain so that I might attend to my family and my business. He did! It was a simple prayer: a supplication, a request; it was not an administration. I walked out of the church pain-free. My neck felt tight for several more weeks. My head felt oddly heavy, but the pain was gone.
I have never since felt physical pain quite that horrific, nor have I felt as free as when Christ lifted the weight of my sins from me at the Chiropractor’s office. I don’t completely understand the sequence of events, or why God chose to move the way He did, at the times He did, but there was no doubt then, nor is there now that it was in His time, in His way, that He acted, that He forgave, that He healed.
If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.
~ John 8:36
Monday, December 19, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Your Heavenly Father will Provide - Liz Scully
Years ago while we lived in Appleton City, I had a dream where God told me we were always to have a large house with lots of rooms and plenty of food on hand for those that would come through. We were blessed with that not only in Appleton City, but also Warsaw. I always felt we would house and feed those making their way to Zion.
Then we moved to Blue Springs and were in a much smaller home for several years. We took several kids in for a variety of reasons. We then moved to our home in Grain Valley, here we have had many people live with us over the past eight years.
As I was doing lawn work and talking to God, it came to me that we were still in a large home because we need to house and feed those coming through, not just moving to Zion, but also moving to a different places in their lives.
I’m thankful that God always gives us what we need and hope that we will always be His willing servants.
And your heavenly Father will provide for you, whatsoever things ye need for food, what you shall eat; and for rainment, what ye shall wear or put on.
~Matt. 6:27
Then we moved to Blue Springs and were in a much smaller home for several years. We took several kids in for a variety of reasons. We then moved to our home in Grain Valley, here we have had many people live with us over the past eight years.
As I was doing lawn work and talking to God, it came to me that we were still in a large home because we need to house and feed those coming through, not just moving to Zion, but also moving to a different places in their lives.
I’m thankful that God always gives us what we need and hope that we will always be His willing servants.
And your heavenly Father will provide for you, whatsoever things ye need for food, what you shall eat; and for rainment, what ye shall wear or put on.
~Matt. 6:27
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Saved From an Evil Spirit - Ron Brooks
Although it has been many years since Christmas 1952, I shall never forget the night an evil spirit came to claim my body. The experience left me with undeniable evidence regarding the truthfulness of Ephesians 6:12. "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." It also left me with an undeniable testimony of God’s love, and that Jesus lives and watches over me.
I was in my freshman year at Graceland College, which is now Graceland University.
My parents had traveled from Long Beach, California to pick me up, and then go on to Monet, Missouri to celebrate Christmas with my grandparents and a few other family members. It was a family reunion of those who had gathered to the small rural home of my grandparents.
On Sunday morning we attended church services at the local RLDS congregation. After church, the pastor asked if I would agree to preach during the evening service. At the time I held the office of Deacon and did not have much experience in the preaching ministry. However I readily agreed, trusting that the Lord would support and direct my efforts. He did.
Today I do not remember the words that were spoken, nor even the sermon topic. But I do remember being able to speak under the direction of the Holy Spirit, and felt joy in being so blessed.
That night, after enjoying an evening of family fellowship, we retired to our several beds. Although small, my grandparents home provided several bedrooms both upstairs and down. The bedroom I shared with my grandparents was at the top of a flight of stairs. My grandfather and grandmother slept in a bed on one side of the room, while I slept in a bed on the opposite side. A yard light shining through a window between the two beds dimly illuminated the room. The stairway ended at the foot of the beds.
Around two in the morning I was awakened by the sound of a train whistle several miles away in the distance. Although not very loud, the mournful sound aroused me.
I woke to an intense coldness in the room. It was unlike any coldness I had ever before experienced. It was not like the cold of winter that freezes from the outside, it was a cold that penetrated to the core. This was not a physical sensation due to winter weather. This was the manifestation of a demonic presence. I have since become aware that this intense coldness accompanies a spirit that does not have the light, or warmth of Jesus.
In addition to the cold I became aware of an intense blackness near the stairway. As I watched, this blackness began to flow toward me. It came closer and closer and began to settle over and around me. I felt as though I was being cast into outer space. The intense blackness is hard to describe, but it is similar to what one experiences when the lights are turned off in a cave.
I fought back mentally. The blackness retreated - but returned. I mentally willed it away again, but it kept returning, stronger each time. I called to my grandmother, waking her up. She immediately exclaimed about the coldness. I told her what was happening, and she got up out of bed. A light hung from the ceiling and was turned on by pulling on a string. Grandmother pulled the string, but there was nothing there, only the intense coldness remained. I don’t know why, but grandmother pulled on the string again turning off the light. Then she got into bed with me. The blackness then began attacking both of us.
I realized that there was nothing we could do to protect ourselves from this evil spirit. I told grandmother that we should pray for deliverance. We began to pray to Jesus for protection.
As we were engaged in earnest prayer a beautiful light appeared above, near the ceiling. Words fail to describe the beauty of that light. To the best I can describe, it appeared like gossamer angel hair often seen on Christmas trees, but it had an internal luminosity that was at once soft, yet vibrant. The light brought a feeling of deliverance and calm reassurance. Fear gave way to the knowledge that we were being protected and delivered from evil by our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
As we watched, the light came down and completely encircled the darkness, lifting it up through the ceiling. As the light approached the ceiling it parted, then closed allowing the light, with the darkness, to pass through. A feeling of joy, peace, love, and protection remained.
After Christmas I returned to Graceland. I was living in the home of Bishop Earl Higdon in Lamoni, Iowa. Several male students occupied bedrooms on the second floor of the home. The first night back at Graceland I again experienced that intense coldness upon entering my room. I had told my roommate about my experience with the dark spirit. When he felt the cold oppressive presence in the room he picked up his things and moved across the hall. In addition to the cold I perceived a darkness in one area of the room. But also present in the room was my beautiful cloud of light.
I reasoned that if the darkness had followed me all the way from southern Missouri to southern Iowa there was no place I could go to escape. But as long as I had my white light to protect me there was no reason to fear. Each night as I went to bed the blackness appeared in one corner and the light in the other, and each night I would pray to God for protection, and then lie down to go to sleep secure in the confidence that Jesus was watching over me. After about a week the dark cloud left and did not return.
No, I shall never forget the night that an evil spirit came to posses me. But I also will always have the knowledge that Jesus loves and protects me.
Ronald W. Brooks
Grain Valley, Missouri
August 6, 2011
I was in my freshman year at Graceland College, which is now Graceland University.
My parents had traveled from Long Beach, California to pick me up, and then go on to Monet, Missouri to celebrate Christmas with my grandparents and a few other family members. It was a family reunion of those who had gathered to the small rural home of my grandparents.
On Sunday morning we attended church services at the local RLDS congregation. After church, the pastor asked if I would agree to preach during the evening service. At the time I held the office of Deacon and did not have much experience in the preaching ministry. However I readily agreed, trusting that the Lord would support and direct my efforts. He did.
Today I do not remember the words that were spoken, nor even the sermon topic. But I do remember being able to speak under the direction of the Holy Spirit, and felt joy in being so blessed.
That night, after enjoying an evening of family fellowship, we retired to our several beds. Although small, my grandparents home provided several bedrooms both upstairs and down. The bedroom I shared with my grandparents was at the top of a flight of stairs. My grandfather and grandmother slept in a bed on one side of the room, while I slept in a bed on the opposite side. A yard light shining through a window between the two beds dimly illuminated the room. The stairway ended at the foot of the beds.
Around two in the morning I was awakened by the sound of a train whistle several miles away in the distance. Although not very loud, the mournful sound aroused me.
I woke to an intense coldness in the room. It was unlike any coldness I had ever before experienced. It was not like the cold of winter that freezes from the outside, it was a cold that penetrated to the core. This was not a physical sensation due to winter weather. This was the manifestation of a demonic presence. I have since become aware that this intense coldness accompanies a spirit that does not have the light, or warmth of Jesus.
In addition to the cold I became aware of an intense blackness near the stairway. As I watched, this blackness began to flow toward me. It came closer and closer and began to settle over and around me. I felt as though I was being cast into outer space. The intense blackness is hard to describe, but it is similar to what one experiences when the lights are turned off in a cave.
I fought back mentally. The blackness retreated - but returned. I mentally willed it away again, but it kept returning, stronger each time. I called to my grandmother, waking her up. She immediately exclaimed about the coldness. I told her what was happening, and she got up out of bed. A light hung from the ceiling and was turned on by pulling on a string. Grandmother pulled the string, but there was nothing there, only the intense coldness remained. I don’t know why, but grandmother pulled on the string again turning off the light. Then she got into bed with me. The blackness then began attacking both of us.
I realized that there was nothing we could do to protect ourselves from this evil spirit. I told grandmother that we should pray for deliverance. We began to pray to Jesus for protection.
As we were engaged in earnest prayer a beautiful light appeared above, near the ceiling. Words fail to describe the beauty of that light. To the best I can describe, it appeared like gossamer angel hair often seen on Christmas trees, but it had an internal luminosity that was at once soft, yet vibrant. The light brought a feeling of deliverance and calm reassurance. Fear gave way to the knowledge that we were being protected and delivered from evil by our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
As we watched, the light came down and completely encircled the darkness, lifting it up through the ceiling. As the light approached the ceiling it parted, then closed allowing the light, with the darkness, to pass through. A feeling of joy, peace, love, and protection remained.
After Christmas I returned to Graceland. I was living in the home of Bishop Earl Higdon in Lamoni, Iowa. Several male students occupied bedrooms on the second floor of the home. The first night back at Graceland I again experienced that intense coldness upon entering my room. I had told my roommate about my experience with the dark spirit. When he felt the cold oppressive presence in the room he picked up his things and moved across the hall. In addition to the cold I perceived a darkness in one area of the room. But also present in the room was my beautiful cloud of light.
I reasoned that if the darkness had followed me all the way from southern Missouri to southern Iowa there was no place I could go to escape. But as long as I had my white light to protect me there was no reason to fear. Each night as I went to bed the blackness appeared in one corner and the light in the other, and each night I would pray to God for protection, and then lie down to go to sleep secure in the confidence that Jesus was watching over me. After about a week the dark cloud left and did not return.
No, I shall never forget the night that an evil spirit came to posses me. But I also will always have the knowledge that Jesus loves and protects me.
Ronald W. Brooks
Grain Valley, Missouri
August 6, 2011
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