What Are The Stakes?: God Markers on the Land

S am and I were alone in my home in the middle of a Bible study. For some reason, his anger erupted, and he came at me, wrapping his arms around me in a tight squeeze. I have never felt that kind of strength. Although he was my size, he felt superhuman. As he wrapped his arms around me and our faces were just inches apart, I said out loud, "Get back in the name of Jesus." He let me go quickly, jerking back. Then he walked around me to the kitchen sink. He began to grab pots and pans and kitchen utensils, hurling them right at me with all his might — and I was only 10 feet away. Nothing ever hit me. Things flew by me on both sides, but I didn’t get a scratch. I picked up my cell phone and walked outside, dialing 9-1-1 for the first time in my life. As I talked to the 9-1-1 operator, I heard crash after crash inside my home. He flipped a baby grand piano by himself — it has taken about seven of us to set it up. He threw my chairs through the six large windows along the back of my home, he smashed the pictures and the television, and flipped the furniture. Glass was broken and spread everywhere — both inside and outside the house. Words can’t describe the scene when he was done. It was like living a nightmare. Family photos smashed and torn, keepsakes and knickknacks in pieces around the room. Memories seemed to lie there among the ruins. He did over $42,000 in damage in just four minutes, and there were no drugs in his system. What could give someone the strength to do that? His apology said that something evil took him over, and he was powerless against it. Read more