The day had been heavy, saturated with the abrasive weight of earthly frustrations and a spiritual battle that had drained the very marrow from my bones. Earlier that afternoon, I had stepped into the path of a volatile, unruly spirit that was ruthlessly taunting a woman I know. It was a dark, venomous entity, feeding on her fear and amplifying her despair. I didn’t hesitate; I stepped into the breach. Relying on my knowledge of the Bible, God’s Word, and the authority granted to those who walk in His light, I fought it off and banished it from her space. When it finally released its grip, she broke down in tears of relief, feeling an immediate, profound restoration of peace.
People can mock, scoff, or harbor their skepticism, but I know the reality of the unseen world. I have lived on both sides of the veil. Years ago, I died during an operation for seven agonizing minutes. When I crossed over to the other side and was subsequently sent back, I was forever changed. I returned with the ability to sense, see, feel, and actively work with spirit. Over the years, I have meticulously documented over 400 episodes of encounters I’ve had during sleep, while fully awake, or at specific haunted locations.
I am a light warrior. My mission is to stand in the gap for those who are tormented by the forces of darkness. But that duty comes with a steep toll. Helping others drains my energy reserves severely, and roughly ninety percent of the time, the very spirits I banish retaliate against me while I sleep. True to form, right after helping that woman, I felt a heavy, suffocating presence lingering near me, accompanied by a sharp, burning pain etched into the skin of my arm.
Anticipating the nocturnal ambush, I prepared myself before closing my eyes. I went to sleep frustrated with the day’s events, but as sleep finally took me, the retaliation began immediately.
The entity tried to pin me, attempting to trap my physical body to the bed, but I shoved it away with a surge of willpower. I began to loudly pray the Lord’s Prayer. The demon mocked the sacred words, its voice dripping with cynical malice, but I knew the truth: God’s word is more powerful than any demon if you believe.
Undeterred, the entity seized me, violently shoving me backward into a swirling, suffocating void. I landed hard in a nightmare landscape—a giant road made entirely of black tar, stretching out for miles in every direction. This was a highway of the damned, populated by unruly, grotesque demons who jeered at me, pushing me down into the scalding muck. They wanted me to be stuck and stay forever. I slowly began to fight back and work my way through the sludge road and push forward.
As I worked my way up the road, forcing myself forward on my hands and knees through the thick, bubbling tar, I saw distorted faces embedded within the surface—the visages of the eternally tormented. Seeking traction, I plunged my hands into the black sludge, only to pull them out with the actual skulls of the lost who had perished in the tar. The substance burned my skin with a fierce, searing heat, but I kept pushing forward, driven by an unyielding refusal to surrender. I was not going to be a skull in the road of eternal tar that would be celebrated by demons.
On both sides of the road, lost spirits shrieked and wailed. Looking ahead, my heart hammered against my ribs; blocking the end of the road was a colossal wall, easily a hundred feet high or more, and I knew I had to scale it to escape. I was wore down and really tired. I had doubts of being able to make the climb and get off this desolate road of death.
As I approached the base of the wall, the screaming, moaning, and groaning swelled into a deafening roar. Cutting through the chaos came a voice that froze the blood in my veins. The devil himself was directly behind me, roughly a hundred feet away, standing a towering twenty feet tall with a massive, muscular red body, a sweeping tail, and two enormous, jagged horns. His face was the definition of pure, unadulterated evil, and his eyes burned like pits of fire. Encircling him were tens of thousands of mini devils—creatures about two feet tall, tinted in sickly shades of green, brown, and black. These were his foot soldiers, the doers of petty and grand evils, and among them I recognized the very minion I had cast out of the woman earlier that day.
The devil and his horde mocked me mercilessly. “You can’t make it,” they hissed, their voices echoing off the tar walls. “You are weak, frail, and far too tired to make it out of the pit.” They laughed at me and pointed at me saying, “he will give up and we will have him forever”. I was even more tired so I began to pray for God’s help. It was all I had left, but was all I needed.
Desperate for endurance, I prayed the Lord’s Prayer again, begging for divine strength. I reached the cold, slick surface of the wall and began to climb. As I ascended, an unnatural weight settled over my shoulders, making my body heavier and heavier, dragging my momentum down. Below, the devil and his minions stood jeering, pointing, crying out, and screaming vulgarities. Yet, locking my gaze forward, I made a silent vow: I am not staying here. I will defeat this sin and the valley of death. I was not going to stay in Hell.
I climbed harder. Miraculously, as my fingers dug into the surface, the tar wall began to harden, allowing me to jab my hands deeply into it and gain real leverage. I found a reserve of strength I didn’t know I possessed. When a few of the smaller minions began scrambling up the wall after me, I kicked them backward, sending them squealing like pigs running from a coyote as they plummeted back into the tar pit road. The Devil sent more and more at me and I climbed harder and faster and kicked them off me. I had found a strength I was unsure of but it was helping me climb and fight.
As I neared the absolute summit of the wall, the darkness parted. I saw a brilliant, transcendent light and heard the most magnificent, beautiful voice and music I had ever encountered. The light infused every fiber of my being with raw strength, and the voice whispered directly to my soul: “Fight for yourself and beat the devil at his own game.” I knew this was the light of Heaven and I wanted to go there. I scratched, climbed, fought and worked harder than ever to make it to the top. As I got closer and closer the Devil’s minions could not climb that high. When they got close to the light they were vaporized as they could not enter God’s light.
Guided by that celestial voice, I hauled myself over the edge of the wall. My hands, legs, and arms were entirely spent, every muscle exhausted. As I made one final, desperate effort, my grip slipped, and I almost fell back into the abyss. But just in the nick of time, a giant, warm hand locked around mine, pulling me securely over the ledge and out of the pit forever. It was God’s hand and he grabbed me to welcome me home to Heaven.
Looking back down, I saw the devil standing still, but he was forced to look away. He could not bear the brilliance of the light, nor could he exist in its holy presence. His myriad minions had already dived headfirst into the tar road, fleeing in utter terror, squealing in shame and complete defeat. They were utterly helpless against the supreme power of the light. The Devil slowly sank back into his tar of abyss and was gone. I was standing in the light and it was wonderful. I felt light, refreshed and all human conditions and issue were gone. I was completely at peace in my soul.
Turning my gaze fully toward the source of the radiance, I was mesmerized. The light was so powerful, so breathtakingly beautiful, that I could neither move nor blink. A voice echoed gently around me: “Away from me my son for you have work yet to do.” I was sent back straight into my body on the bed. I wanted to stay, but was not allowed.
I woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, lying motionless in the quiet dark as my mind raced to process the vision. I had encountered demons many times before, but I had never seen the devil himself. Say whatever you want, let the skeptics scoff—I know what my eyes witnessed. I know the pit was hell, and that blinding, beautiful radiance was Heaven. One so beautiful and wonderful for the soul. The other a pit of regret, fear and constant torment.
That visceral vision stirred my spirit to its core. It set me firmly back on the path of doing what God originally called me to do. In my human weakness, I had begun to doubt myself and the impact of my gift, letting it lie dormant of late. I had forgotten a fundamental truth: the difference between Heaven and hell is attitude, commitment, and faith. Hell offers nothing but relentless pain, suffering, anxiety, depression, and rotting flesh. Heaven, on the other hand, offers brilliant colors, breathtaking music, heavenly people, angelic hosts, and an eternity spent in the presence of God Himself.
After waking, I took a long, cleansing shower, stood before God, and made my choice clear. I told Him that I choose Him always, thanking Him for showing me both sides of the human condition in such a stark, undeniable manner.
So, what will it be? Do we choose Heaven or hell? When this old physical body finally stops breathing and my spirit moves on, I choose beauty, forgiveness, God, and Heaven. If you are currently suffering from something that attacks you, hurts you, or tries to break your spirit, know this: there is help available. Find a person equipped with the spiritual gift to move it on, and cry out to God for deliverance. His angelic army is standing by, ready and willing to assist.
God bless you all, and I hope to one day see you in Heaven!
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