Washed by the Blood of the Lamb – My Testimony, is my first addition to my own website’s “Christian Testimonies of Salvation” section! Took me long enough don’t you think? Typing it up was one of those things that I had always intended to do, but never dedicated any time to writing it all out.

That is until a Sister in the Lord, whose writings can be found on this site under the “Preach it at STIC” section, in particular, the page called “Rapture Ready – Shining a Light,” was inquiring if anyone would like to include their testimonies on her online magazine “A Word Fitly Spoken.”

So I typed it up and sent it to her, then started feeling kind of weird that my own testimony wasn’t here on this site! So I asked her if it would be alright to post it up here too, and she graciously said of course! So here it is, and I thank you for checking it out!

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I’ve been born again, saved, delivered, and washed by the Blood of the Lamb since I was about ten or so. Leading up to salvation, my testimony isn’t anything extraordinary, though I do remember like it was yesterday, when the Lord Jesus saw fit to lift the burdens of this world from my shoulders.

Even at that young age, not having come close to facing the world enough to pile up any share of worldly baggage, there was a lift and a cleansing. That coupled with a spiritual gladness that kept me smiling from the inside out for quite some time, after asking the Lord to come into my life.

I’ve never forgotten that day, and the experience is tucked right into my helmet of salvation, (like a WWII soldier would’ve tucked a picture of family into his helmet,) for a constant reminder all these years later, of the fatherly love I felt from him as he washed me clean and created in me a new spirit.

You see, my mother had lead me to the Lord. She had become extremely close to the Father a few years earlier (which shortly thereafter cost her her marriage by the way,) and was always an unmovable presence spiritually. So without a doubt, I’m a product of a praying steadfast mother.

Washed by the Blood of the Lamb but not Done

Yes the Lord changed me that day, however, I was still very young, and it wasn’t long before I forsook anything that the Lord did for me that day. I was a stiff necked, stubborn, unruly, rebellious, violent, and mouthy kid to say the least. And when I say that, I’m talking about after I was saved.  Just think about what my mother had to deal with before that!

In time, after being saved and having a taste of the goodness of God, my love for the Father dwindled down into a memory within months. As I look back, I can see what was going on. Spiritual doors were being left wide open for demonic attack and would eventually result in possession.

Within about a year, I was doing drugs, drinking, and smoking. Yeah I got all of that into my system early at about eleven years old. Hard Rock/Heavy Metal music was blaring almost everywhere I went, just inundating my senses with the messages that groups like Led Zeppelin, Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath, Danzig, and others of their ilk would convey.

It never occurred to me that nearly everything that I had become involved with was so against the Lord. I knew that he loved me and I was saved and washed by the Blood of the Lamb, so as far as I could see it (through the vast wisdom and manifold knowledge of a pre-teen,) I was all set to move on and trash my life as I saw fit. Even still, he remained somewhere in the back of my mind all the time.

I was more than a handful in those days, exhibiting raging anger issues, complete disregard for anyone else (unless they were friends just as thick into issues as I had become,)  and became downright hateful toward my brothers, mother, and her friends, who, by the way, were also Christians.

Funny I’d remember that. My skin would crawl when any of my mother’s friends would come over. I neither had a clue, or cared for any reasoning why. Looking back, it was because they were saved, and would speak about the Lord and things to do with him. What was in me didn’t like who they brought with them.

Not long after, any music I’d hear that was Christian in any way, would cause for me to either have to leave the room, or do whatever it took to shut it off and make it stop. I can recall the intensity of the hatred for that music. I didn’t know why, nor did I care.

Bottom line is, I had become possessed. Many people don’t believe that can happen to someone who has accepted the Lord Jesus, and has invited him in. I beg to differ. Some may say, “Well, that means that you weren’t saved!”

That’s not true at all. I was saved, but my free will caused for the Father to step back and allow me to suffer the fruits of my decisions, actions, and sin. The thing is, I knew even then, that the Lord was with me. Not only with me, but would not leave me alone when I was involved with doing something that was outstandingly wrong, even illegal at times.

Others may say that I wasn’t possessed, but instead oppressed. Well, I can say with certainty, that wasn’t the case at all. I was both saved and possessed. I mean sure, I could have been demonically oppressed several times over, but that doesn’t cancel out possession, it’s just a different peel of the onion.

I’d get massive waves of conviction at times, that I’d never attribute to myself as I recall my attitude during those days. I knew that I knew that I knew, I was saved, but just stopped caring about it. Converting into Satanism or blatantly jumping ship from the Father to a cult or other religion was never a thought. It was obvious to me that doing so would anger the Lord, and I’d be in trouble. Honestly, I really thought I wasn’t doing any wrong by the Lord.

Interesting Sequence of Events

Let’s bump it up a few years to when I was around thirteen years old. My mother at that point was being trained in many different ways to conduct spiritual warfare, which for her anyways, answered a ton of questions about me and my behavior. I didn’t give her the time of day about any of it of course, but the Lord had her in preparation for something that was from way out of nowhere…

I hung around with a allot of people in those days, but had a small core of friends that ranged from 13-16 years old. At that time, they began hanging out with someone in the neighborhood that was into witchcraft, and they thought that was a cool thing to dabble around with.

Fortunately I stayed away from this person for several reasons. Looking back, divine intervention at it’s finest. But eventually, my friends wound up with their hands on a Ouija board. They began using it to summon whatever would answer them. (Please understand, I’m trying my best to make a long story short!)

Inevitably, they got what they were asking for, and it terrified them all. A couple of them found themselves doing things that they normally wouldn’t have, enough to actually be troubling to them. Thank God that they recognized that they had a huge problem on their hands, but having no real clue what they were messing with, they only knew of one person in the whole neighborhood that might know what to do. And that person was my mother.

All three of these guys one after the other came to speak with my mother, and one by one, were eventually brought to the Lord, saved and delivered from a whole slew of different demonic entities. It started with the oldest, and the others were soon to follow.

That left me in a strange place. My closest friends at that time were changing before my very eyes, and I knew it was a good thing, but didn’t feel good about it. Soon, they’d be lecturing me about listening to my mother and telling me I needed to be delivered even more than they did! Who are these people and where are they hiding my friends!!!

Moment of Truth

Finally, after around three months after my friends had been delivered, I gave up resisting,  and allowed for my mother to pray over me to see if I needed deliverance. I remember the first few minutes, and the last few minutes, but everything in between I have no recollection.

When she was done, she filled me in on a couple of things I did and said, different voices I spoke with, making symbols with my hands, sliding across the bed into the wall, etc… All the normal stuff right?

When all was said and done, I personally didn’t notice any difference. As far as I was concerned, I was still myself, and didn’t feel any more or less holy or cleansed.

But even though I didn’t notice, everyone around me certainly did. One day, I realized that I wasn’t infuriated with my mother’s music. I thought, hmm, interesting… Things didn’t make me as infuriated, I’d think a little more about things, I’d pray to the Lord and became more interested in him.

Was I perfect? No way, not by a long shot! And this isn’t to say that I suddenly made all of the right choices either. I was 13 at the time, and had all kinds of opportunities to be stupid thereafter, which I took advantage of, and never really did have what some would consider a “normal” life after that. But what’s “normal” anyways?

Reflecting

All of this was approximately thirty years ago. Sometimes I think that it’s better to come out of darkness and into the light of Christ at a later age, so the before and after is much more contrast and more memorable. Because being saved at such a young age, it’s tough for me to have that contrast.

I don’t remember too much about life before salvation to be able to make a comparison. But as I said earlier, I do remember the day the Lord stepped in. But when I start thinking that it would have been better to have been saved later in years, the Lord tells me “Well, I didn’t think it would have been better…”

That goes to show, the Lord was in control then, he’s in control now, and will be in control in the future. As I recall all of this, I am amazed at how the Father was working all things to come together. That’s what he does isn’t it? I’m ever grateful to the Father for causing for me to know him, through the Lord Jesus Christ, and through his Spirit.

Conclusion

Well, that’s all for this one folks. This is a testimony of my salvation and deliverance in my early years. But what I didn’t get into (probably because it would be a book length,) is the foresight of the Father concerning all of the spiritual warfare that was going on.

We were being trained for the next stage of our lives. And when I say “we” and “our” in that sentence, I mean my whole family. I’ll give you a sloppy outline.

We moved to New Hampshire

Our home was beside a church

There were satanists that met out in the woods behind the house

They were trying to assaulting the church spiritually

We were in the way

When we resist the enemy, either in prayer or supplication, do we know who we’re resisting?

Hows that grab you? That was a spiritual battle that produced several witnesses to all kinds of demonic activity including manifestations and a variety of different attacks, confrontations with those sending them our way, on and on it went for years until it quieted down and petered off. Many victories were witnessed as well, and several souls were saved because of it.

I said all that to say this… Because f the different trials that we’d gone through in our old house, we were better equipped to deal with what we had to face after we moved. The Father knows exactly what he’s doing all the time.

Has the World tampered with your prayer life?

Thanks for reading “Washed by the Blood of the Lamb – My Testimony!”

 

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