Tag Archive: spiritual warfare

The spiritual warfare over me continued. My months in the hospital brought much improvement in my condition. When my doctors suggested I go on home care, however, the insurance company refused to approve it. Then after getting approval after weeks of haggling, a Strep infection nearly killed me. Since I knew nothing about spiritual warfare then, I became a human punching bag for the devil, absorbing punch after punch not even knowing I was in a war. The story details follow: However if you care to catch up on my prior postings that are a prelude to this story follow the following links:



As the second opinion predicted (MY MEAGER ATTEMPT TO FIND GOD BRINGS A MIRACLE), I began to feel considerably better and stronger. I no longer naped several times a day, my weight was controlled, and with more time on my hands, I roamed the corridors of the hospital out of boredom. Nevertheless, I continued having digestion difficulties that kept me attached to an IV that pumped life-giving fluids directly into my aorta.  

My family physicians, nevertheless, believed that I was out of serious trouble. They thought I should be discharged from the hospital and established on home care, where I would dispense my own aortal IV feedings. The primary benefit was finally being at home with my family every day. However, the insurance company withheld their approval of home care for me, even though they had a considerable financial gain to do so. Eventually, after endeavoring to sway the insurance company administrators for weeks, my family doctor resorted to calling an executive and securing the home care authorized for me. I was blessed to have this man in my corner, making things happen for me throughout this entire ordeal. 

After spending almost three months in the hospital, I was happy to be home. A home care team arrived at my home on my first day back and delivered the IV equipment and a small refrigerator to stow the IV solutions, keeping them fresh. They also taught me to safely attach myself to the IV and set up and manage the IV equipment. I would be responsible for properly connecting the IV to my catheter daily at the appropriate times from that point forward. The home care team would deliver sugar water IV solutions weekly, and a delivery schedule was established. In addition, I was required to attend periodic medical check-ups, ensuring that things were progressing as expected. 


For the first few weeks, things went well. Then one day, and for no apparent reason, I suffered what I would describe as an intensely cold chill with uncontrollable quivers. During this episode, my body shivered and convulsed for approximately ten minutes. The coldness I felt could not be remedied with blankets, and I became so cold that my lips turned blue. Suddenly, however, the chills ran their course and ended just as abruptly as they had begun. I immediately went to the hospital, where they performed a series of tests. I talked to the doctors afterward, and they were baffled. I was worried, so I verified that the doctors knew the history of my illness and the home care aortal IVs I was receiving. Believe it or not, they told me it was likely nothing and that I should not worry about it. I recall thinking as I left the hospital that perhaps something was wrong with my home care function. After all, what else could it be? But they were paid top dollar to diagnose problems for people. After all, they are doctors. They should be able to figure this out. They are professionals. They know what they are doing, right? 

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About a week to ten days later, when I began to believe that the doctors were correct, the chills hit me again, only they were much worse this time. I’m unsure how long they lasted, but when they quit, I was spent. This was a severe reversal in my way of thinking. After the episode settled down, I mustered up the strength to travel to the hospital again, where an even more comprehensive set of tests were performed, but the results were the same. They found nothing amiss and sent me home again. Yes, I once again made sure that they knew about the circumstances of my illness and my home care treatment. Evidently, they could not put the pieces together. They suggested that if they could see me having an episode, they might be able to determine the cause of these mysterious shivers and convulsions.

After another week, I was in my family doctor’s office for a check-up when the third chill episode materialized. It began while I while the doctor examined me on his exam table. When the shivering began, the physician had his nurses wrap me with blankets, but they were inadequate in warming me. I then saw my lips turning blue in the mirror across the room. The convulsions were much more violent this time, and my fingers and toes became numb. My muscles were quickly becoming fatigued and began cramping. My doctor then checked my heartbeat with his stethoscope. As he listened, I could feel the now irregular rhythm of my heartbeat, and I knew the doctor was hearing it also. I looked up at his face and saw it slowly turn pale. His now wide-open eyes reflected fear, and I knew he thought I was dying right there in his office. His reactions reflected the seriousness of my situation. While I also believed I was sick enough to die, I again declined to let pessimistic thoughts into my mind regardless of my circumstances. Just like before, I knew that I would recover.

Then my body started shaking even more violently, and a nurse covered me with her body to provide additional warmth. Then an ambulance arrived, and I was wheeled through the patient waiting room and saw the horror and disgust on the faces of the people as I passed by thrashing. I guess they thought I was a goner as well! Just as before, the violent shaking suddenly stopped in the ambulance on the highway to the hospital. This time, however, the doctors must have concluded that there was something wrong with my catheter as they removed it as a precautionary measure. I believe that my doctor likely called ahead and told them to do so.

Later, tests confirmed my original suspicions. A strand of staph infection was growing on the end of the catheter inside my aorta. According to the doctor, the growth caused a chain of infectious materials that grew longer as time passed. Once it reached a critical length, the strand would break and be instantaneously released into my heart, causing these violent reactions.


I did not know it then, but I was once again the target of spiritual warfare. Satan kept hitting me, but I didn’t know to seek the protection of God. God was trying to get my attention, but I was not responding. He had something He wanted to tell me.


I had stopped believing in the existence of the devil and quickly suffered a life-threatening condition that sent me to the hospital, fighting for my life. I passed over into the spiritual realm, where I experienced the realities of the devil, hell, the Lake of Fire, and the Judgement Seat, where I stood before God with stains on my garments. 

After promising God that I would change, I miraculously returned to the living that first night, but my troubles were far from over. As strange as this may sound, I paid no heed to the Judgment Day messages I experienced that first night in the hospital (MY DAY OF DEATHWhen You Disbelieve The Devil’s Existence…Entering The Spiritual RealmMY JOURNEY TO SPIRITUAL GOLGOTHAIN HELL – CONFRONTED BY THE DEVILSWIMMING IN THE LAKE OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONEStanding On The Seat Of Judgment Before GodMY EXPERIENCES IN HEAVEN AND HELL.) 

Although I returned to life, the devil had me on the ropes, and although I did not know it, he was coming in to finish me off. He continued attacking me in the hospital as I fought for my life. In my previous two postings, he attempted to suffocate me (MY ABILITY TO BREATH IS ATTACKED) and starve me to death (UNABLE TO GET ENOUGH NUTRITION TO SURVIVE .) In this posting, he persuaded my doctors to get me to consent to a risky and unneeded operation. He repeatedly brought mayhem into my life with a relentless wave of events designed to abort my destiny and life purpose.

Somewhere along the way, I picked up a Bible, conceding that it may be an appropriate time to reach out to God. I began by reading the book of Matthew and finished the book by reading just a few chapters each day. However, the words it read didn’t resonate with me then. The book delivered a series of beautiful accounts of Jesus’ life, but I could not grasp their spiritual implications. I subsequently resumed my reading program by reading Mark, but after a while, I gave up. Little did I know, however, that God would reward my meager attempt to move closer to Him.  


After being in the hospital for two months, a staff surgeon came to discuss the results of my recent CAT scan. He said the test confirmed my pseudocysts were not reabsorbing into my pancreas as hoped. He also stated that leaving them in this condition would be risky. He then delivered a long list of the perils of avoiding this operation and strongly advised me to have it done. 

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko on Pexels.com

I inquired about the risks of surgery and found that the operation required a fifteen-inch cut in my abdomen and the removal of my stomach, kidneys, and some intestines. These steps are performed to access the pancreas, which is positioned near the spine and is otherwise unreachable. The pseudocysts would then be lanced and sewn onto the inside wall of the intestines giving them a safe place to drain. Once completed, they would reinstate the removed organs and stitch me up. The physician felt the risk associated with the operation was justified because of the significant, possibly fatal, episodes that would occur without it. 

But the complexity and risk of this procedure seemed unreasonable to me. After all, I felt from the first day that my body would heal and I would recover. I declined to let pessimistic sentiments from the physician change my mind regarding my outcome. It seemed to me that the operational risks were higher than the potential injury from a pancreas malfunction sometime in the future. I did not want to die on the operating table. This surgery seemed to be an intrinsically bad idea to me. It seemed wrong in my head and my gut. 


Some in my family, nevertheless, felt differently. Of course, they knew much better than I, just how fortunate I was to be alive. After a discussion with them, I searched for the right decision for quite some time, eventually choosing to get a second opinion. So I contacted my family doctor to see if he could help. He investigated and found an experienced pancreatic specialist who worked in another hospital across town. So, I asked my family doctor to set things up for me. 

Little did I know what a firestorm I started by bringing in a physician from another hospital. My view was that I wanted the best I could find and did not comprehend why anyone would do differently. I also knew a second opinion by another doctor in the same practice would have political implications, which could sway opinion toward their colleague’s original findings. I wanted a fresh set of eyes and an open and independent mind. Fortunately, my family doctor did an extraordinary job playing the middleman in making this transpire. He pulled all the strings required to get the second opinion set up. 

On the morning the second opinion exam was scheduled, I was sitting in bed, listening to the nurses and the doctors talking in the hallway about the outrage of having an outsider evaluate me. It seemed like everyone in the building was talking about this issue. They were insulted that such a thing could occur. With all the fuss they were generating, you would have thought that someone had robbed a bank, and maybe, that is what it was all about. 

In any case, the doctor showed up and did an excellent job. He asked me multiple questions, examined me, reviewed my records, and ordered another battery of tests, including CAT scans, X-rays, and blood tests.

A few weeks later, he reported his findings, and their consequences were surprising. He conveyed that by comparing the most recent CAT scan with the previous one, he discovered that my pseudocysts were shrinking! They were being reabsorbed back into my pancreas, and he forecasted they would vanish within three to six months. My body was healing! What great news! 

Jesus is the Light of the Wordl

Looking back on it now, it is apparent that something transpired between my first and second series of examinations. That something was that I had desired to find God by picking up a Bible and reading it. Regardless of how feeble my effort was, God responded with a healing miracle! Yes, that is right. When I thought about it, the physicians could do nothing but offer a risky surgery, resulting in a patch job while causing much damage to my body and organs. On the other hand, God gave me a genuine healing that returned my body and organs to their original state without damage or risk. 

My faith that I would be healthy without the surgery is something God put in me that first night in the hospital. God honored my attempt to find Him, and it did not matter that I found the experience lacking. It was as if God was responding to me, “Okay, son; you took one step in My direction, and you thought nothing would come of it. But you have My heart. I am going to show you that I am real. I desire that you live.”

As it was communicated in all the other incidents I have reported in this blog, God was there for me again. He continued watching over and protecting me, even though I did not know it. I often wonder why the Lord would have loved me so. After all, He saved me from the lake of fire (SWIMMING IN THE LAKE OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONE) and brimstone, the pit of hell, and the devil’s savagery (MY EXPERIENCES IN HEAVEN AND HELL). He has given me life even though I stood before Him on Judgment Day with the stains of sin on my garments. Nothing could be more significant than being saved from these things. Then later, He also healed me when I attempted to find Him by reading the Bible. 

Sweet God in heaven, I praise Your holy and sacred name. I praise You for loving someone unworthy of Your love, who could not have changed the error of his ways without your loving care.

The truth is that God was willing to develop a closer relationship with me then, but I was not ready. I still had not recognized that He was my protection and healer. I, therefore, did not give Him the praise he deserved for doing so. However, by not giving credit to God for my healing, and since I had not renounced my disbelief in the devil’s existence, my penalty would be that the spiritual warfare over me would continue. 


When the hospital staff acquired the second opinion report, I expected they would oppose it. I expected the hospital surgeons’ warnings that I would encounter severe consequences without the surgery. I remember thinking, “After all, a surgeon only makes big money when they operate, right?” But the surgeon was not the only one encouraging me to go ahead and have the surgery. Members of my family also tried to persuade me to have the procedure. After all, I understand that they were afraid of losing me.  

I, therefore, abandoned the risky surgery and accepted the path of natural recovery because I believed in a good report even before there was one to contemplate. I knew I did not need the operation, and I told my hospital doctors and everyone else of this belief. Many people tried to change my mind, but I declined them all.

The hospital physicians tried several strategies to get me to recant about having the operation. I, however, was always unwavering and to the point. Eventually, they pressed me so hard that I had to rudely tell them this was the end of the line. There would be no more discussions about an operation.

Interestingly enough, I encountered the top surgeon who recommended the operation while on an airport shuttle bus several years later. I was in much better health by then, and he may not have recognized me, so I reintroduced myself. Would you believe that he started preaching to me about the operation again? I guess he did not get the message. He refused to accept the test results that confirmed that the pseudocysts had disappeared and that there was nothing on which to operate!

In my next posting you will learn about my insurance company blocking my ability to go on home care despite my doctors recommendations. After being in the hospital for almost 3 months and even though they would save tons of money doing so, they persistantly blocked my ability to go home.


Although I miraculously lived through that first night, my troubles were far from over. As strange as this may sound, I paid no heed to the Judgment Day messages I experienced that first night in the hospital (MY DAY OF DEATH, When You Disbelieve The Devil’s Existence…, Entering The Spiritual Realm, MY JOURNEY TO SPIRITUAL GOLGOTHA, IN HELL – CONFRONTED BY THE DEVIL, SWIMMING IN THE LAKE OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONE, Standing On The Seat Of Judgment Before God, MY EXPERIENCES IN HEAVEN AND HELL.) My life would continue, but now the devil had me on the ropes, and although I did not know it at the time, he was coming in to finish me off.

He continued attacking me in the hospital as I fought for my life. Several of his attacks damaged my body, while others aggravated my job standing and relationships. In my previous posting, he attempted to suffocate me (MY ABILITY TO BREATH IS ATTACKED.) When all else failed, he persuaded my doctors to get me to consent to a risky and unneeded operation. He repeatedly brought mayhem into my life with a relentless wave of events designed to abort my destiny and life purpose. In this posting, I will present how he attempted to starve me to death.


After I had been on IV feedings for a while, my physicians grew concerned about their ability to preserve my weight and health on continuous IV feedings. So they decided to see if I was healthy enough to begin ingesting natural foodstuffs again. They gradually introduced a liquid diet, and when that was successful, they pursued a soft nourishment diet. Everything went well for about a week, but unexpectedly my enzyme levels shot up dramatically again. 

So they paused these tests until my enzyme numbers turned back down, and when they did about a week later, they reinstated the same meal plan strategy. Unfortunately, my enzyme levels shot up again, and they suspended the feeding program for a second time. Through all of this, the IV feedings never ceased, and their effect began to take its toll as the veins in my arms, legs, hands, and feet broke down. Things were getting more alarming, and I wondered if the doctors had a resolution.

I was gradually moving toward a no-win crisis. My large veins had broken down, forcing the nurses to use smaller ones, therein reducing the amount of nourishment I could obtain in a day. They also had an increasingly challenging time locating a vein, often having to make several sticks were now becoming common. 


After agonizing about this predicament, my physicians eventually resolved to take the risk of inserting a semi-permanent catheter into my Aorta. That’s correct, through the center of my chest and incredibly close to my heart. They were reluctant to perform this operation because one slip could result in permanent heart damage. Please note that the catheter insertion point in the diagram below is of the modern-day practice which moves the entry point away from the heart, most likely for safety reasons.

But there were several advantages to taking the risk. One benefit is that it would solve my nutritional issues. Once this catheter was in place, I would get all the nutrition required in just four hours. Secondly, it was considerably easier to use; merely attach an IV bag to the catheter and eliminate the needle sticks. Things would become more comfortable and pain-free. I could get up and move about more frequently as I would no longer have an IV bag holding me back. 

They performed the Catheter insertion procedure in my hospital room, and I was conscious throughout the operation as the physicians required feedback from me. They began by cutting a small opening in my chest so they could gain access to my Aorta from between two of my ribs. Then they injected the catheter through that hole and inserted it into my Aorta. But as fate would have it, they encountered considerable trouble piercing my Aortic wall. The Doc had to gradually exert increasing force to propel the catheter into the artery. This exertion persisted for several minutes until, finally, the physician leveraged all of his strength and body weight to get the job done. As all of this was happening, I became very concerned as I recollected the danger warnings they gave me before the procedure began. But the catheter finally pierced the aorta wall, creating a loud sound like the crushing of a giant beetle’s shell as the catheter punctured the Aorta wall. The good news is that the operation was a success. There were no slips, thank God. I was delighted and relieved that this ordeal was over.

In my next posting, I will present my meager attempt to find God by reading the Bible and communicating the remarkable healing miracle that followed.


One morning soon after relocating to a conventional hospital room, I labored to get air into my lungs and found it difficult to talk. I notified the nurse’s station and was startled when they considered my breathing difficulty insignificant. They declined to do anything, proposing I wait for the physician to come around on his usual rounds. But I had been in the hospital long enough to know that this could take several hours and that it was also possible for the doctor to not show up at all.

I was getting scared as my disorder worsened rapidly, and I did not want to leave things to chance. So I phoned home, and they convinced our family physician to come to the hospital. He discovered that my vocal cords were swollen and restricted my airflow. He then explained that digestive enzymes damaged my vocal cords and proposed that this happened when I puked entering the hospital. He stated that if left unaddressed, a total blockage would eventually ensue, and I would suffocate. He ordered that I be placed on oxygen immediately and scheduled a tracheotomy for the morning.

The operation required that the physicians enter through a cut in the base of my neck. They then had to cut a hole in my windpipe just below my vocal cords and insert a small metal pipe into the hole. This mechanism ensured that the passageway remained open, allowing air to flow into my lungs through the tube even when my vocal cords closed completely. This device became my lifeline to the oxygen that I needed for the next several weeks.

This event was another attempt by the devil to end my life while in the hospital. The next attempt attacked my digestive system.



Although I miraculously lived through that first night, my troubles were far from over. My life would continue, but now the devil had me on the ropes, and although I did not know it at the time, he was coming in to finish me off.

He continued attacking me in the hospital as I fought for my life. Several of his attacks damaged my body, while others aggravated my job standing and relationships. When all else failed, he influenced my doctors to persuade me to consent to a risky and unneeded operation. He repeatedly brought mayhem into my life with a relentless wave of events designed to abort my destiny and life purpose.

As strange as this may sound, I paid no heed to the Judgment Day messages I experienced that first night in the hospital. You can read about them in these postings: (MY DAY OF DEATH, When You Disbelieve The Devil’s Existence…, Entering The Spiritual Realm, MY JOURNEY TO SPIRITUAL GOLGOTHA, IN HELL – CONFRONTED BY THE DEVIL, SWIMMING IN THE LAKE OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONE, Standing On The Seat Of Judgment Before God, MY EXPERIENCES IN HEAVEN AND HELL.) 

This entire encounter was so unbelievably dreadful and depressing that I often doubted if these terrifying experiences could even be real. So, I blocked all my reflections of that night because I no longer wanted to dwell upon them or think about their consequences. I rationalized them away as being nothing more than an awful dream. I pictured them as being very small and far away in my mind. Unfortunately, the consequence of these measures is that they exposed me to a new series of demonic attacks. I was about to experience the truth of living without God to block the devil’s attacks.


I spent the next few weeks in the intensive care unit (ICU), and quite frankly, I could not have been any sicker. It was so bad that I remember thinking, “oh well, at least I’m still alive.”

Seriously ill patients in intensive care unit with a artificial — Stock Photo, Image

The doctors confirmed that my pancreas was the problem. They explained that it had exploded into hyper-production, generating thousands of times the required volume of digestive enzymes and discharging most of them into my bloodstream. They said that these digestive enzymes decompose proteins resulting in massive deterioration over most of my body. My blood, veins, arteries, muscles, nerves, organs, bones, and brain were all decomposing. That would explain my sensations of needles and pins all over my body and the numbness I felt after I entered the hospital.

The physicians continued to divulge that this hyper-production of digestive enzymes created immense pressure on the internal lining of the pancreas. This force became so powerful that it forced the inner lining through the outer wall, forming a balloon-shaped cyst outside the pancreas. The doctors called it a pseudo-cyst, and they deemed it to be a potentially deadly condition. They articulated that even though my pseudo-cyst was leaking, it had not yet ruptured. Eventually, it would harden and break open, abruptly releasing massive quantities of digestive enzymes into my bloodstream, creating even more impairment to my body. My surgeons said my pseudo-cysts were a ticking time bomb and would require defusing before this explosion struck me.

Even worse they did not have a medical solution to my condition, and I believed that surgery was on their minds and in their hearts from the very start. I also knew I was not strong enough for surgery then, as my body needed to heal and gain strength.

In the meantime, the physicians proceeded with a recuperation strategy founded on food abstinence. They asserted that total fasting would slow enzyme production considerably because food consumption activates the digestive processes. Beginning this program would also give my body time to purge itself of the harmful toxins in my blood. To confirm that the program was working, they monitored my blood regularly. Within a week, they declared that my enzyme levels were consistently descending.

I made it through the first few weeks without eating anything and lost 30 pounds in the process. They then started IV feedings that consisted of sugar water and vitamins. The physicians said afterward that my body responded as desired, and I had gained strength. While this was good news, I still felt very sick.


It was more than physically feeling very sick, however. I began to sense there was something very different about my behavior. One thing that I noticed was my inappropriate speech. Vulgarities were now flowing out of my mouth, seemingly with every sentence I uttered. For some reason, I did not seem to care who it offended as I spared no one from my bad speech, not my mother, father, or even my children. Physicians and nurses were daily victims, and things like my handwritten notes strangely included vulgarities. It was so bad that even though it was clear to me, I seemingly could not stop. I wondered to myself, why am I saying such disgusting things? It was obvious to everyone around me that my vocabulary had changed. In reality, the stench of death was all over me. I was still alive and in this world, but the scent of death had wrapped me like a blanket.

My mind was also influenced. My thoughts were of sensual pleasures and flirting with nurses. This conduct was inconceivable for someone so sick that they could die at any moment. I recall thinking, what is wrong with you? You’re so ill you cannot stay awake for more than an hour at a time, and you are harboring these absurd thoughts?

Not knowing that I was in a war for my life (spiritual warfare) allowed me to become a punching bag for evil. In my next posting, I will communicate how being unable to digest food became the next punch threatening my life. This will be followed by a series of punches through my stay in the hospital, followed by a breakthrough that started my journey back to God.

The New Earth on the First Day as the Morning Star Rises


I understand that the experiences I shared pertaining to the spiritual warfare over me, are foreign to most. You can read them here:

My day of death

When You Disbelieve The Devil’s Existence…

Entering The Spiritual Realm




Standing On The Seat Of Judgment Before God

I also understand that these chronicles are more readily accepted when they are authenticated by bible scripture. I, therefore, will introduce a few scriptures here to fulfill this desired result. I hope that in examining this material, you may find, like I did, a real glimpse into the reality of the spiritual realm.  


The experiences of that night terrified me, and yet people just never talked about things like this, and rightfully so. Most people would think you were crazy for talking about what I experienced. Therefore, I did not want to think about what happened, let alone tell anyone about Entering The Spiritual Realm. It wasn’t until years later, after I was born-again, that I really began to understand what God had done for me. He showed me the truth about what exists on the other side of this reality and how my actions on earth would determine my spiritual destiny. God loved me enough to give me a second opportunity to make the right choices and this changed my fate. I did not deserve this opportunity, but He gave it to me out of His love for me. I knew that if He did this much for me when I did not deserve it, He would continue to bless me afterward. Eventually, I publically declared Jesus Christ to be my Lord and Savior. Everything improved for me after that. God placed favor into my soul, and I grew closer to Him than I could have imagined. I began reading the Bible daily and gained new insights into my spiritual encounters. In the book of Revelation, I found uncanny similarities, correlations, and insights into what happened to me. The following sections present some parallels found in the book of Revelation. 


The orange plasma that I reported swimming in (see SWIMMING IN THE LAKE OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONE) is mentioned in the book of Revelation. It is the eternal destination of Satan, the beast, the false prophet, death, Hades, and everyone whose name is not written in the Book of Life.

Revelation 20:10 The devil, who deceived them, was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone where the beast and the false prophet are. And they will be tormented day and night forever and ever.


In my spiritual reality, I stood in a gray place while being judged (Standing On The Seat Of Judgment Before God.) I heard the voices of the beings that searched for records of the good works I had done. I also experienced the pain I had caused others as the sins of my life passed before me. 

The Judgment Seat of Christ

Is there a reference to being judged in the Bible? Are records kept to assist in the judgment? The answer to both of these questions is yes. Everyone will be judged by their works: 

Revelation 20:11 – 13 Then I saw a great white throne and Him who sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away. And there was found no place for them. And I saw the dead, small and great standing before God, and books were opened. And another book was opened, which is the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to their works, by the things, which were written in the books. The sea gave up the dead who were in it, and Death and Hades delivered up the dead who were in them. And they were judged, each one according to his works.


Since only truth existed in the place of my reflection, I somehow understood that the pending judgment before me was regarding the second death. On earth, I did not know that such a thing existed. Is there evidence of the second death in the Bible? Yes, again, it is explained in the continuation of the passage above. The second death is the end of hell and death. The result is to be the total elimination of evil. There will also be the elimination of death, pain, and tears. Sadly, however, there will be no more chances for repentance as only those whose name is in the Book of Life will remain:

Revelation 20:14 – 15 Then Death and Hades were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. And anyone not found written in the Book of Life was cast into the lake of fire.


On that night, I swam in the lake of fire and brimstone and later walked in the halls of Hell where I faced the beast IN HELL – CONFRONTED BY THE DEVIL. I knew there was no escape from these places, so how did I get out? I also sustained the reality of the second death, but who has power over death, to let live or let die? The answer is Jesus! The following words from the book of Revelation are the words of the resurrected Jesus: 

Jesus “The Way, the Truth and the Life,” Rises from the Dead

Revelation 1:18 I am He who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore. Amen. And I have the keys of hades and of death.


In my recollection, I stood while being judged. To whom do I owe my redemption? Who sits on the throne of judgment? 

Revelation 7:10 And crying out with a loud voice, saying, Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!

I was returned to a life that day despite my stained garments. Who has the power to forgive sin?

Mark 2:10 – 11 But that you may know that the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins; He said to the paralytic, I say to you, arise, take up your bed, and go to your house.

I stood in a place where only truth existed and was asked, “Why should you live?” But, who is it that will judge the living and the dead?

2 Timothy 4:1 I charge you, therefore, before God and the Lord Jesus Christ, who will judge the living and the dead at His appearing and His kingdom. 

The answer is that Jesus, the Christ of Nazareth, is our Lord and Savior. Even though I had made poor choices, Jesus covered me with His blood and kept me from the second death I deserved. 

Jesus Sheds His Blood on the Cross

My story provides insight into the meaning of our lives because it accurately describes the consequences of poor choices. I had made the poor choice of disbelieving in the devil’s existence, and God revealed the truth to me. The truth is that the devil, hell, the lake of fire and brimstone, the judgment, and the second death are the consequences of poor choices. God, Jesus, heaven, and life everlasting are the consequences of our faith in Jesus Christ, the son of God. 


As you know from reading my seven prior postings listed at the top of the page, I entered the emergency room of a major hospital on November 7, 1986, believing that all would be well soon, not knowing that MY DAY OF DEATH was knocking at my door. Nor did I know that God would miraculously deliver me from a long string of attacks and calamities. 

A correlation to my experience exists in Psalm 30, a psalm of David. In this psalm, David honors God for saving him from his foe, healing him, delivering him from the grave, and saving him from being cast into the pit (MY JOURNEY TO SPIRITUAL GOLGOTHA.) My experience shows that God also did these things for me, and therein lies the correlation. Let us start by reading a portion of Psalm 30.

Psalm 30: 1-5 I will extol You, O LORD, for You have lifted me up, and have not let my foes rejoice over me. O LORD my God, I cried out to You, and you healed me. O LORD, You brought my soul up from the grave; You have kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit. Sing praise to the LORD, you saints of His, and give thanks at the remembrance of His holy name. For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. 

Let us honor God for His great mercy and love! I completely relate to the message of Psalm 30. So much so that I modified it to become my individual prayer of thanksgiving for all my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, has done for me. I present this personal version here, so please read along with me in thanksgiving and praise: 

I will exalt You, Oh Lord, for You have lifted me up and have not let my enemy, the devil, rejoice in victory over me. Oh Lord, my God, I have cried out to You, and You have healed me from a great affliction of which there was seemingly no hope. Oh Lord, You have lifted my soul from the grave of death and saved me from the eternal damnation I truly deserve. You have kept me alive and spared me from the fate of the Lake of Fire and Brimstone and the everlasting torture and agony of the second death. Sing praises to the Lord, you saints of His, and give thanks to the remembrance of His holy name; His name is JESUS, THE CHRIST OF NAZARETH. For His anger is but for a moment, but His favor is forever. Oh, weeping and sorrow may endure for a night, but joy everlasting comes in the morning, and a new life begins. 

In my last posting, I recounted my experience in the Lake of Fire and Brimstone and the anguish I underwent there. You can read about this experience by clicking on this link: MY JOURNEY TO SPIRITUAL GOLGOTHA


However, a spiritual force removed me from the Lake of Fire and transported me to an empty cave. I looked around and saw blackened semi-smooth rock surfaces glowing red in various places. The walls contained numerous large fissures that periodically released fire and repulsive sulfuric-smelling steam. I presumed these conditions to be like those in the earth’s core. I started searching for a way out by walking down a passageway through the flames and the smoke. 


Suddenly, a giant beast materialized directly in front of me, obstructing my way forward. This repulsive-looking ten-foot-tall monster had the body shape of a stout man. Its gigantic arms and legs were broader than my torso, and its muscles bulged like those of a world-class bodybuilder. Its skin was predominantly darkish brown with traces of black spattered in, and its texture resembled scorched leather, hardened in the fire of this place. This leathered skin contained sharp thorns of various sizes across its body, and the large thorns had smaller thorns on them. These rose-shaped thorns had to be an exceptional weapon because anyone who fought this monster would be cut to shreds by them. 

I stared at the face of the beast and saw its red eyes glaring back at me, and I felt its enormous hatred for me. The shape of its head sloped back like that of a Raptor, and I understood that this beast was the master of this place and that there was no way for me to conquer it; at least not in this place where it rules. We stood there, glaring at each other, and once again, I felt the incredible loathing and disgust it had toward me. It detested me with a prejudice that I had never imagined, with perfect malice. I now knew that it saw me as revolting, disgusting, and repulsive. My words can not adequately convey the depth, completeness, and hostility this monster had for me. 

Realizing the seriousness of the circumstances, I attempted to turn and run but found my feet stuck to the ground. The creature then made numerous swinging punches at me, but luckily, as it tried to move toward me, it also found its feet stuck to the floor. Without this restraint, this monster would have ruled over me in hell. It would torture me and obtain sadistic pleasure in my suffering. 

I knew all these things were true because this knowledge was being inserted into my brain. I felt all of this with powerful emotion. Then, as before, I was instantly transported to yet another place. The place of judgment: TBD

My prior posting can be found here: Entering The Spiritual Realm

As we ended that posting, I lay in an ICU bed, passing into unconsciousness. I departed my physical body and found myself in a transparent vessel in the vastness of space. The craft moved slowly forward through space and time, and I passed the life I would have lived behind. This missive picks up at that juncture and divulges the rest of my voyage to spiritual Golgotha.

The Journey Begins

I proceeded to look around as I progressed through space. I soon detected a slightly larger object in the infinite sea of stars ahead. As the ship advanced, I noticed that this object was not spherical, though I couldn’t quite recognize it.

Then suddenly, a repulsive stench arrived. It was faint at first, and I found myself sniffing to recognize it. But when the full power of that putrifying odor descended on me, it struck like a massive swell crashing onto the shore. I gagged and became nauseated as the smell of death and the stench of decaying human flesh sickened me.

Soon afterward, I heard soft melodic sounds that I could not place. I noticed, however, that its volume gradually rose as I approached the strange object before me. A chill ran through my soul when I discovered the sound to be the voices of numerous souls, simultaneously wailing in torment and despair. This perpetual melody of misery evoked a very heartbreaking and gut-wrenching sensation.

I subsequently glanced up to check my direction and observed that I was approaching the now larger-looking white object in space. I also noticed that my s-curves now seemed larger. I confirmed that I was on a track toward this irregularly shaped object and that the putrified stench and wailing sounds emanated from within it.

I soon glimpsed what I wish I had not, a gigantic, human skull hovered in space. It had muscle and hair in various places, but, in general, it was severely decayed. Most of its skin was missing, exposing underlying muscle, ligament, and bone. However, most areas leave only the skeletal structure observable. The jaw displayed only a few teeth while exhibiting a wicked smirk. The right eyeball was missing, and the stench and the wailing emerged from this empty cavity.


The closer I came to this skull of death, the more I became astonished at its enormous size. The sine wave flight path now swung me from one edge of the object to the other, and before I knew it, all I could see before me was the skull. Yet, I proceeded onward, and soon all I could see was the empty eye socket before me. I then realized my total insignificance relative to its enormousness. Nevertheless, I extended my course by entering the empty eye socket as it engulfed me. Once inside, I got a close-up view of the remnants of the ligaments and muscles of the eye socket. Yet, I proceeded onward, moving into total darkness and eventually passing through an invisible passageway. My voyage appeared over, and I wondered what might lie ahead.

More horrors! Read my next posting about my swim in the Lake of Fire and Brimstone: INSIDE THE LAKE OF FIRE – THE SECOND DEATH

In my earlier postings (When You Disbelieve The Devil’s Existence…,) I shared an experience when I began to disbelieve in the devil’s existence and shortly afterward experienced a spiritual attack. This attack wounded me severely and left me in an Intensive Care Unit (ICU,) fighting for my life while my doctors did not expect me to live through the night.


While unconscious in the ICU, I had a near-death out-of-body experience. In this experience, I found myself seated on the floor of a transparent spaceship, hovering in the blackness of space with the radiance of billions of stars around me.

I could feel my buttocks and crossed legs touching the floor even though I could not see it. Mysteriously, I also comprehended that I had a transparent dome above me, shielding me from the environment while permitting me to see in every direction.

Throughout this experience, I received knowledge relevant to my circumstance. Dispatches would arrive in my brain that helped me comprehend what was occurring. For example, I suddenly knew I had left my body behind and was about to travel through space and time. So, when I detected the first sensation of movement, I knew what was happening. 

The ship proceeded slowly forward at first and then gradually accelerated. As I moved forward, I began to hear voices and pieces of people’s conversations as I passed them by in time. One comment after another in succession, as if I were slowly driving past an unbroken line of individuals, each one engaged in dialogue. Initially, I could hear entire sentences, but as the craft accelerated, the terms came in quicker, were higher-pitched, and were less recognizable. Soon, there were very few recognizable words, and eventually, there were none. The sounds of voices transformed into a sound like that of a 33 RPM record played at a 78 RPM speed. Then, as the ship’s acceleration advanced, the sounds became like Morse code. Ultimately, even these blips became a squelch, like the sound an old radio makes when the dial is turned quickly across a broad range of stations. 

I then knew my ship was traveling through time, passing by the voices of my unfulfilled life’s future conversations. They were the voices of a tomorrow I would not have. Abruptly the squelching just stopped, and I thought I would have had a very long life if I had lived.

With the sounds of voices now behind me, I focused on attempting to identify my location. At first, all I could see were the stars and the blackness of space all around me.

I soon noticed, however, that I was zigzagging back and forth through space. The ship was moving in S-shaped curves like a sine wave, veering to the left, then curving back to the right. Like a sailboat moving against the wind, I went back and forth while maintaining one straightforward heading. Where was I going, I wondered.

Find out in my next posting: MY JOURNEY TO SPIRITUAL GOLGOTHA.

This posting is one of several that chronicle what happened when I started to disbelieve the devil’s existence. They convey just how physical, spiritual-warfare can be and are a warning to all who hold such a belief. You can read my previous post here MY DAY OF DEATH, as it is a lead-in to the material published here. 


I walked into the emergency room (ER), unable to stand erect, clutching my abdomen in pain. Being irritable from my physical disorder, I demanded immediate attention when I reached the admissions window. In response, however, the nurse handed me several forms to fill out and requested my proof of insurance. All this procedural stuff had taken so much time that I wondered if I would receive treatment in time. I then felt the urge to vomit again and hurried to the lavatory on the other side of the room. In the rest room I reasoned that if I had food poisoning, I should be getting better by now as I should have emptied my stomach. But this certainly was not the reality. 

I stumbled back into the reception area, knowing I was acutely ill. Surprisingly, two ER nurses with a wheelchair were waiting to take me to an examination room.

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A very young man came in and examined my belly. He looked like a high school student, and I hoped he was not my doctor, but, as it turned out, he was the intern on duty. He completed the preliminary examination, but we still needed the blood sample results to provide a prognosis. As I waited for the results, my illness and pain deepened. 

The young physician returned an hour later and advised me that he had arrived at a very uncommon diagnosis. As a result, he requested the assistance of a resident for confirmation. Thirty minutes later, the resident physician came to reexamine me. After reviewing the data, he concurred with the intern’s preliminary diagnosis. However, he also wanted a confirmation by the hospital’s top doctor. I asked what my infirmity might be, but they were hesitant to say anything about their diagnosis. Things were becoming scary. What could be so dire that it required this level of consideration and secretiveness?

So I waited in pain for another hour to allow the head physician to drive in from home. When he arrived, I received a third examination. After deliberating, they all agreed that I was suffering from a malfunctioning pancreas. 

Photo by EVG Kowalievska

They then transferred me to an intensive care unit and gave me morphine for the pain, which had now spread throughout my entire body. At this point, it felt like I had needles and pins implanted in every square millimeter of my body. Soon the discomfort was so extreme that parts of my body went numb. 

Although I did not know it then, the physicians had already informed my immediate family that they did not expect me to live through the night. Further, they recommended contacting distant family members who might want to see me before I died.

The initial shots of morphine proved ineffectual, so they gave me several additional doses, but these were also inadequate. Eventually, a nurse connected me to a morphine injector pump that enabled me to control my medication level by simply pushing a button. Interestingly, all this morphine never made the pain entirely go away. It only brought me into a mindset where I did not care about the pain anymore. I recall thinking at one point when my stomach pain intensified, oh well, so what!

Interestingly, my doctors never told me they had done all they could, that there was no treatment or medication to address my condition. 

Their answer was to halt my food intake, which would discontinue my pancreas functioning and arrest the production of digestive enzymes. These enzymes deteriorate protein and are naturally used to digest food in the abdomen. The real problem was that these enzymes were in my bloodstream, decomposing my body tissues. My mussels, organs, and brain were all damaged by these enzymes. By stopping pancreas function, they stopped the destruction of my body’s protein.  

They never inform me of the gravity of my illness. But this turned out to be a good thing because, throughout this entire ordeal, I always knew that I would recover. 

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I remember the nurse shutting the curtains in my ICU room and turning out the lights as she left. I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling while wondering what my fate might be. Eventually, I became groggy and drifted off. I would soon find out. The story continues in: Entering The Spiritual Realm.