I always knew there was a God, I
acknowledged Him, and I believed in him, but I hadn’t given my life to Jesus. My mother and grandmother, from
gypsy stock, had powers, but I don’t think my mother knew how to use them. My
grandmother used the ‘evil eye’ a lot, that I know, but she wasn’t an evil
person. She was actually a very good and kind person.
I developed quite a talent with my
powers. It all started with my first pregnancy. During the second trimester I
started hallucinating. What I was seeing were cats. They would appear when I
was least expecting them, and disappear from the top down. All cats, tabby,
ginger, black and white. It took me back to when I was a child and I saw and
heard cats after my mother had our tabby put down. I never minded these
hallucinations. I found them comforting, but I got it into my head that I must
have been a white witch.
After my baby was born, and with time
on my hands, I got interested in other people’s pregnancies. I would guess at
which mum was going to be pregnant next, and I was always right. I thought it
was a sort of ‘baby charming’ which used to carry on in centuries gone by, and
I became quite good at it. This carried on with a certain amount of glee,
until, one day to my horror, I heard a mum, who had denied her pregnancy until
she could no longer hide it, say she didn’t want the baby. I felt responsible.
What had I done? I asked God for forgiveness, and renounced my power. But I still hadn’t given my life to Jesus.
Later in my thirties, I was working as
a nurse. I had forgotten all about my previous misdemeanours, and was enjoying
my career, doing a good job, and feeling very justified. I had developed a neat
line in psychokinetic’s. If people annoyed me, revenge was easy. No effort was
needed to make them have an accident, drop something, break something, or have
some minor irritation go wrong in their lives. Nothing major. Until one day a
tutor we had working in the hospital annoyed me in the extreme. She was a nasty
piece of work, and did all she could to humiliate students if possible. This
was a step too far. I thought the accident on her, and the next day she came in
quite shaken up, and told everybody that she had left the road, and her car had
landed in a ditch. Luckily, she was unharmed. Horror overtook me again.
Secretly I thought she deserved it, but I didn’t like what I was doing, and
once again asked God for forgiveness, and renounced my power. But I still hadn’t given my life to Jesus.
I was now living in another part of
the country, and had taken up with a clergyman. ‘Nice one’ thought I! He would
be sure to help me with my fight against evil. Not so. We went out a couple of
times, then he disappeared from view, and I only saw him at services. No
explanation was given, until one day he paid me a visit to tell me that he had
something to say, but he couldn’t say it now. I was puzzled, until several
mutual acquaintances informed me that he was gay. I was very annoyed that he
should have used me to ‘try out’ being straight, or even worse to give himself
some credibility in the parish.
At the time of the discovery my son
and a friend were staying with me at my house. We were having a whale of a time
insulting this man, and finding suitable punishments for him and laughing, when
I heard a noise outside. It was dark, and as I drew open the curtains to look, two
glowing lights were set in the vegetable patch in my garden, like a couple of
eyes. I was terrified. The devil was upon me. I had played fast and loose with
him for many years, and now he was waiting. I prayed out loud for God to
deliver me, and us from this horror, and I was sorry, and would never do
anything like that again.
Sounds familiar? Have you read this before in this
story? Did I give my life to Jesus?
A couple of days of later, when my son
and friend had gone home, the vicar of my church came to see me. I was never so
delighted to see him. He caught me in the kitchen doorway, and to my complete
surprise, he said,
“You must give your life to Jesus Christ,
He caught me completely off guard,
when he said, “repeat this prayer after me.” I cannot remember the prayer, or
what happened to the vicar after that, but I do remember feeling as though I
was foot up in the air. I had to go to work. I had to deal with the rest of my
life. I was feeling as if I was floating, as if I couldn’t really do anything
else but listen to Jesus, and receive from His Spirit.
How could I go to work now? I just had
to. I had to get on with it. I never told anybody what had happened to me. They
would have thought I had taken leave of my senses. I worked in an intensive
care unit, and had a very demanding job. I couldn’t be walking around in a daze
for the rest of my shift!
I just know now that in God’s eyes I
am very, very special, and that I was prized by God as a soldier of
Christ. I have to get on and fight
against the things which come against me, using the weapons which the Spirit
has provided me with. Years later I met an evangelist and prophet, who prayed,
and in the name of Jesus, removed the last shrivelled up ‘gypsy Rose Lee’
vestiges of my powers, which hadn’t been used for years, as I had at last given my life to Jesus.