For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places” (Eph. 6:12).
“Good morning, Bapa,” I said as I passed my Palawano friend and another lady walking along the creek. Bapa glanced at me with a puzzled, frightened look. Then she blankly gazed up at the sky and began murmuring under her breath. Startled by her odd response, I felt I should stop and talk with her, but I was already running late to teach my Monday morning English classes. She will be okay, she has a companion with her, I thought to myself.
Bapa is a sweet young woman, probably in her late twenties. I saw her almost every Sabbath at church. She didn’t talk much about her faith, but I always appreciated her presence since I knew how far she had to hike from her tiny hut in the mountains.
Later that morning I learned that Bapa had been admitted to the clinic. She claimed she had died and been brought back from the dead. “I must fulfill my duty to my master and return to the dead again soon,” she announced. Also, she was having horrendous mood swings. At times she was hyper-alert, frightened by every noise, object and person. Then she was confused, uncertain of who and where she was. Then she would be very clingy and touchy, unwilling to leave the nurses’ side. At other times she was angry and combative, often trying to injure herself. My dear friend Bapa was demon-possessed.
Seeing Bapa in this terrible condition broke my heart. She lived by herself. All of her immediate family were dead. Her parents had been brutally murdered when she was young. Despite her devastating childhood, she had such a bubbly, sweet personality. Her bright smile and spontaneous visits always warmed my heart. But now I hardly recognized her. The war of evil versus good was being fought before my very eyes.
The other nurses, Carrie, Amy and Manny, and I knew we needed to keep an eye on Bapa at all times. We took turns on overnight duty at the clinic. One time we had to hold Bapa down to the floor to keep her from karate chopping objects, others and herself. In tears, she innocently explained that the bad people in her head had told her to do it.
Three days after Bapa’s admission, it was my turn to sleep in the clinic. I can’t say I was particularly delighted at this rare opportunity to sleep one room away from a demon-possessed patient. But I can say in retrospect that my faith in God grew exponentially that night.
Although my Palawano is nowhere near fluent, I decided to have worship with Bapa that night. We sang hymns and praise songs together, and I even shared a story with her. As embarrassed as I was to pray in Palawano, I prayed with her anyway. And she overcame her shyness and prayed, too. After prayer, she squeezed my hand tightly and thanked me for being a good friend. Touched by her gratitude, I smiled and said goodnight.
Closing the door of her room, I stood on the other side, tears streaming down my face. Lord, I come to You boldly claiming Your presence here tonight. Please free Bapa from these evil spirits. Please give her a sweet sleep free of nightmares. Cast the devil far, far away from this room, this village and this mountain. I surrender Your daughter Bapa to you. Oh God, please hear my earnest plea. I ask all this according to Your will. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Returning to the lab room across from Bapa’s, I stretched out on the exam chair. Suddenly, I felt icy fear creep over me like a wave of numbing anesthesia. The fear unleashed a swarm of doubts in my heart. If God could permit this to happen to Bapa, does He even care? What makes me any different from Bapa? Could I be the next victim? Fear began to corrode my confidence in God’s goodness and protection. I felt the bitter battle between good and evil raging inside of me. My guard was down. The devil had placed fear in my heart to drive me away from God. This fear was like spiritual amnesia, dulling my memory of how God had led me.
In my fearful desperation, I reached for my Bible. I read 1 John 4:18, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love cast out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love.” God is love. I needed Him to fill my heart with His love and cast out my fear. Lord, please fill my heart with Your love. And fill Bapa’s heart, too.
Mirroring the storm of fear raging inside of me, an actual storm raged outside. The wind blew horrendously, causing the front door of the clinic to swing open and shut. Thunder echoed and lightening pierced the darkness. The last thing I wanted was for the storm to stimulate more nightmares for Bapa. Throughout the night, I woke up again and again to pray outside her door. I kept on surrendering Bapa’s heart and mind to God and claiming His power in her life. I knew only He could give me the strength to resist the devil’s attacks against Bapa’ and me.
In the morning, I woke up to find an elupian (a non-lethal but extremely painful biting centipede) next to my left leg. I scrambled out of the exam chair and ran out of the room. Bapa’s door was open, and her room was vacant. Worried, I began to search inside and outside the clinic. Had she run away?
I returned to Bapa’s room to find her neatly folding her bed sheets. “Good morning, Rachel!” She said with the same cheerfulness I had greeted her with four days earlier. Surprised but skeptical, I asked her how she had slept. She told me that Jesus had come to visit her in a dream. She said He sat and talked with her in that very room. He told her He had given her a new body, mind and spirit. The devil no longer had possession of any of it. Then Jesus handed her a white shirt and told her that all her sins were forgiven. He instructed her to no longer be shy about her faith, but to be bold and share what He had done for her. Overwhelmingly blessed by His words of encouragement, she promised she would.
I was speechless. The once shy Bapa was now beaming with unspeakable joy! What a powerful testimony. She was victorious through Jesus Christ. She was now fully aware that her mind had not been her own for the past few days. She told me she praised God for all the missionaries’ singing and praying with her because that had been what kept her mind from falling completely into the devil’s possession. That same morning, Bapa was discharged from the clinic.
Through her experience, Bapa came to a true realization of God’s omnipotent power in her life. The devil fought hard for control, but God’s saving grace restored her and inspired her with new purpose. Now Bapa was ready to share her powerful testimony with everyone!
In Prophets and Kings, p. 111, Ellen White wrote, “In life’s conflict we must meet evil agencies that have arrayed themselves against the right. Our hope is not in man, but in the living God. With full assurance of faith we may expect that He will unite His omnipotence with the efforts of human instrumentalities, for the glory of His name. Clad with the armor of His righteousness, we may gain the victory over every foe.”
I learned that it’s not the absence of storms that sets us apart, but Whom we discover in the storms. In the midst of that stormy night at the clinic, I discovered an omnipotent Christ. He revealed to me a love that conquers all fear. Bapa could not fight her battle alone, and neither could I. God was right by our side. He gave us “victory over every foe.”
Before Bapa left the clinic, she gave me a tight hug. “Thank you for everything, Rachel. I love you.” It was a love that could only have come from above—God’s saving, perfect love. It changed her life, and it changed mine. It can change yours, too.
