The haunted houses I used to visit were some of the scariest places on earth.
The homes were filled with the same things that you could find within the usual home: pictures, appliances, furniture. The parts of the familiar when it pertains to daily necessity. Pretty lively places, overall.
At certain times, though, the demons would manifest.
The fiend would take on many forms. A shape-shifting entity is not limited to anything in this world, it seems.
I was tagging along with a friend of a friend one time. We were going to meet someone at their home to make a deal with them. I remember the home (bear with me, this was well over twenty years ago) being in the heart of skid row. We were welcomed into the home by a woman, and we probably didn’t waste much time with small talk. I was handed a baby food jar and told to, “take a hit”.
The demons were already manifested well before we reached the door of the home that day. The dead overgrowth surrounding the home and the decaying mortar were signatures of its contents. The dark and filth of its gut weighed in on me, as the fear welled up inside. I couldn’t speak for the man I was with, for I only knew His name, but I think he was seasoned–no fear and not aware of the presence I was noticing. Also, he was twice my age. We sat and smoked crack with the withering demon who fixed my young hand’s position on the baby food jar. Like a baby taking a first step, I had no idea how the pipe worked. The smoke filled my lungs and the demon began to work, at that very moment, within. The desire to flee from the fears was then pushed under by the persuasion of the fiend.
The demons were well pleased.
Another time, I was visiting a home in the heart of Kentucky. Different drug, different company, but a more relaxed atmosphere. My woman friend and I (also twice my age) had reached the home well after midnight after finishing up our shift at a local restaurant. We traveled there often on the weekends–going to pick up the large amount of speed for the family and party friends. Like many homes, the man’s was more “homey” than that of the frail woman’s at skid row.
I recall his wife being a bit upset over us being there, probably because we were there so late. I remember his son entering the room at a time, being curious. We: the man, myself and my friend, were the evil that was summoned in that little living room early that morning, and we were disrupting what little structure was left in their family’s personal space.
But, that’s what demons do. They relentlessly control and manipulate. The take on forms that worm there way in, much like a sperm that breaches the egg.
My own house was haunted. We dabbled in the dark and the things of it. I had felony after felony growing in the corners of my home, and many people there to take down with me. I had seats for the demons. I had a place at my table for them, and a place inside of myself for their delight.
My home is still haunted. There are things that come and go–all of the time–that are reminders of the hell on earth/demonic realities in this realm.
Thing is, I notice the presence in a completely different way. I believe that way is through God now living in me.
It says in the Bible, in 1 John 1:5, that, “God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.” I sometimes think of this in two ways. One, the obvious, based on the words: No evil in Him. Two, no longer evil in me.
I am now in Him.
I thank the Lord Jesus for making it this way. It is through my own dark that I saw His light, and it is through His light that I am able to shine it upon this evil that manifests itself in the realm in which I dwell. So, a home can be haunted. People can be haunted. My heart can be haunted, but there is never any type of demon that can take the light of God away. Yes, I’m still manipulated and sometimes blind to the dark, but I know that the Light now overpowers it.