Lord, Please Help Me!

When I was growing up in the Church, Pastors often spoke of the Holy Spirit speaking directly to individuals through prophets, missionaries and evangelists. The Holy Spirit spoke with me privately but never through another person. This He was about to change. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and my pastor had asked me to play the piano for the evening service. A Missionary and his wife were coming to speak. Little did I know the spiritual battle I would face awaiting me there. As a homeschooling parent, there were always some feelings of unworthiness being the teacher of one's children. However, despite the few obstacles along the way, it was one of the most rewarding experiences I had as a mother. My daughter and sons often thanked me for those years. Life changes and our Heavenly Father began to lead me in a different direction. It became necessary for me to soon return to work. Finding a Christian School was on the top of my to do list. One school offered to interview our children. Needless to say, I was nervous and hoped all would go well, if this was where Jesus was leading. The teacher who interviewed one child, spoke with me afterwards. Her demeanor spoke volumes. She couldn't hide it. I knew she felt I had no right to teach and no words of encouragement or love were offered. The school would not enroll this child. My heart fell and for the first time in my life, I heard an evil spirit speak, “Look what you've done to your child. You're a terrible mother.” After leaving the school, this spirit continued to speak to me with condemnation. I apologized to my children for not being able to enroll them. The older two told me they were glad, because they didn't want to go to that school. Their words didn't seem to help what was happening inside of me. Later that evening on my way to church, I struggled to stay composed. My pastor was expecting me to come and play for the service. How could I do this? The offenses were getting more real, even my faith in the Lord was being challenged. “You say you're a Christian! Where is your Lord, now? Does He care that you failed your child? Have you failed your husband, too?” “Jesus Christ is my Lord. He loves me and will help my family. He's never failed me.” I cried. “Where is He? If He's loves you, why am I here?” came the response. “I don't believe in you! I only believe in Christ Jesus my Lord.” I answered. I left my vehicle and entered the church. Surely, I would be safe once inside the church. No, I kept hearing the accusations of hurting my child. My heart cried out from within, “Oh no, how could you come into God's house!” “You brought me here!” came an answer I didn't expect. My heart cried out, “Dear Lord Jesus, please help me!” The Holy Spirit responded instantly. His love moved in my spirit, but I felt too sinful to allow Him in. “Please wait, Lord. Please! I have to play the piano and I'm trying not to cry. Please Lord, please wait.” Once the music ended, I wanted so much to leave. I wanted the Lord to deal with me outside, in my van. But the words of my dad spoke out to me, “Never leave early during a service. Always stay until it is over.” While sitting in a pew, the attacks began again, intensifying. I would cry out to Jesus, and when He would come, I begged Him to wait and to let me leave. Then the attacks would start once more. The wife of the missionary was speaking first. I thought I could slip out to my van once she was finished. No, her husband stepped up right away. He took over the service, and his words were aimed at me! He spoke with urgency saying that the enemy of our souls did not only manifest itself in places far away like New Guinea, but also in churches like ours. Someone in the congregation was in serious trouble. “Someone is being told she is a terrible mother and has hurt one of her children. No matter what you've done, God will forgive you.” He spoke loudly. “Oh no, please Lord, please don't do this to me. Please let me leave.” I cried out to Him. “No, you are not going to leave,” said the missionary. We are here to help you. It's not safe for you outside. You are safe here. I know your name! If you try to leave, I will have to call out your name, and we won't let you go.” “Please Lord, please. I don't want to cry in church!” I prayed. The missionary responded, “There's no better place where one can cry out to our Lord but here. Brothers and sisters, do you mind if she cries in this church?” The congregation responded with a loud, “No!” “Lord Jesus, please help me!” I cried. He came with a mighty, powerful love which broke the bonds of this evil spirit. My tears fell for quite some time as women gathered round me to pray and to comfort. The Holy Spirit washed me clean and spoke healing to my soul. I couldn't stop thanking Him. Since that night, I have never had another experience with a spirit other than the loving Holy Spirit. I asked Him to protect me from such evil and He has. Our Heavenly Father loves us so very much. I should have kept my trust in Him, for if we fully trust our Lord, He will make all things well. He gave me an extra year homeschooling before sending me out to work. Our children were enrolled in a wonderful Christian school, and all did very well.