What about my demons?
Joining up with Jesus in chasing out the devil, invoking his name, watching a man set free from fear, maybe even death. This is living!
An other-worldly thrill comes on the heels of such triumph. But then, as with many of life’s highs, a larger reality finds a way of settling in. Troubling questions may follow.
What of my own demons?
I had met Christ dramatically in my youth. His presence flooding over and through me, wave on wave, at my Yes to a simple invitation voiced by a real estate agent – “Would you like more of Jesus?”
God had kept me from the prison of an iron lung, had brought my useless, polio-smitten legs to life.
His relentless Spirit had, later on, chased after me and my rebellious teen heart. Such love at work had melted me to brokenness and restored me to my family.
And, wonder of wonders, he brought to me my most prized treasure, an inside/outside beauty from the Big Sky state of Montana. It had been Ann who waited with Jerry’s wife for us two men to complete our deliverance ministry assignment with a traumatized African youth.
And even a call to Christian service. Overseas, no less.
Yet.
My secret held on. And its attending darkness.
The night Lawrence violated me in my pre-puberty childhood had set the stage for compounded issues fueled by shame. Through wrongful, impure ways I had gotten exposed to sexuality. This set in motion desires I knew to be wrong.. Repeated cycles of guilt-inducing thoughts and behaviors naturally followed. Behaviors I knew to be wrong but which plagued me regardless how I tried to resist. And try I did.
So, while on the one hand my life was marked by blessings nearly too good to be true, I struggled deeply with periodic bouts of distress over crippling addictions.
Crippled. A missionary with a limp.
©2017 Jerry Lout