Demons 1, 2, 3
A few months before our first son was born, I was sleeping one night in our little brick bungalow on Wismer, when I awoke and found myself just lying wide awake, unable to go back to sleep. Don was sound asleep next to me snoring and our dog Heather was sleeping on the rug on the floor on my side of the bed. After lying there a few minutes hearing all the snoring, I decided to go to the living room to try to fall back to sleep on the couch. We had a great big sofa with attached pillows on the arms and an afghan Mom had crocheted that we left on the sofa. So I didn’t take a pillow or cover with me; I just walked into the living room in the dark.
I had just enough moonlight from the bedroom windows and from the windows in the top of the front door to make my way to the couch. I lay down and before I could even close my eyes, I felt a hot breath right on my face. I could only assume it was Heather. If you put your hands as close to your face as possible without touching your face, then breathe out, you can duplicate how close her face seemed to mine. I figured she had followed me from her rug into the living room. There was a horrible stench to her breath.
I whispered as loudly as I could without actually talking out loud, “Heather, go lay down!”
As soon as I said that, from her rug in the bedroom, I heard Heather lift her head, jingling the tags on her collar. When I realized whatever had breathed hot, foul-smelling breath that close to my face was not the dog, I jumped off the couch and turned on the light.
This may sound crazy -- OK, it does sound crazy -- but I expected to see a big black cat, like a panther, in the living room when the light came on. I based that on the fetid smell and the immense heat of the breath I’d felt. It surely had to have come from a big animal. But nothing was in there.
I raced back to bed, to the safety of my snoring husband and my sleeping golden retriever mix. The living room light remained on the rest of the night. When the pounding of my heart subsided, I eventually fell back to sleep and by morning it was almost forgotten.
Several weeks later an absolutely identical replay of that night occurred. I couldn’t sleep. I went to the living room. Hot, foul breath on my face. I called out to Heather. Her tags jingled on her collar from the bedroom. I turned on the light and found an empty room. It was most unnerving.
It just so happened that shortly after the second incident I was at my folks’ house and my brother-in-law Jim was there. Jim is a Baptist Minister and a Minister of Music. Being the storyteller that I am, I related the story as an odd incident in which I was sure I’d been awake but wondered if I could have dreamed it. Thank goodness Jim heard my story and recognized it for what it really was. He immediately told me it sounded like demonic oppression and recommended that I check out a book he’d recently read that was written by gospel singer Andrae Crouch. Andrae Crouch described a similar incident and attributed it to demon oppression. Jim went on to tell me, “The next time that happens, say, `In the name of Jesus, leave me alone.’”
It did happen a third time a couple of months later. Like before, I couldn’t sleep so I went to the living room sofa. And as soon as I felt the hot, foul breath on my face, instead of telling Heather to go lay down, I said, “In the name of Jesus leave me alone.” The breath went away immediately and it was the last time I ever experienced anything like that.
It’s been over 35 years since that happened. Still I wonder. I wonder was it really a demon? What did it want? Was it the same thing Don saw in the bedroom door a few weeks later after Mike was born? That story is up next.