I learnt a few things lately from the Rt. Rev Isaac as we shared spiritual thoughts.He narrated some personal experiences that might seem to some civilised minds as weird and untrue.

Here is one of those experiences in his younger days in the deliverance ministry: they had just finished a session of prayers casting out devils from some afflicted persons when a mother brought a daughter in her mid-twenties.  The young woman was in the top hierarchies of the occult.  The Rt. Rev Isaac with his team thereupon decided, “OK, let’s take a little break now and have something to eat before we start with this new case.”  Thus said, they left the young woman sitting in a chair while they took their break.  They noticed, however, that she soon seemed to have dozed off into a short nap.  Their meal break quickly concluded, they returned to resume the deliverance prayers.  For that young woman, they prayed and prayed, and finally set her free from her Luciferian ties, but she had a confession to make.

She said that while she seemed to have dozed off, she had actually been on an astral journey to the big hospital in town.  She needed blood both to meet her monthly blood quota and especially to fortify herself against the conflict she was about to enter with those people of God.  On her astral trip to the hospital, she had found a doctor performing a rather simple surgery, but she had moved his hand to cut a very vital organ he could not repair, and his patient had died.  Blood sacrifice. She gave the name of the hospital, described the doctor, the red-striped overalls he was wearing, his eye glasses, and so on.

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The preachers could not believe the strange tales of the young woman, so two of them decided to personally verify her claims at the hospital.  They drove the long distance to the hospital, met the front desk nurse, and asked: “We are here to see the doctor who had performed a surgery in the evening and the patient had died.”

The nurse was worried; Who were they? What did they want?  Where did they come from?  She was understandably reluctant to cooperate.  While they were still in the tug of words with that receptionist-nurse, they saw a doctor that perfectly fitted the descriptions they had been given; a tall and slim man in glasses, with the red-striped white clinical coat.  “Don’t bother anymore,” they promptly announced. “We have seen the man we came for,” and they walked over briskly to him.

“You did a surgery a while ago and the patient had died,” they shot at him after some traditional pleasantries.  They proceeded to describe to the shocked doctor what had transpired in the theatre. He froze.  Who were they?  How did they know?  They calmed him down.  He invited them promptly into his office for the rest of their story. There they reassured the very troubled doctor that his medical competence was not to blame in the present case.  They had finished praying for a woman in the top Luciferian brackets, who had confessed to being responsible for that ‘accident’ that had taken a life.  It was her way of making up her regular monthly quota of occult blood.

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The anxious doctor then began to narrate how confused he himself had been about the strange and sudden shift of his otherwise very stable surgical hands, occasioning the irreparable fatal cut.

Unfortunately, as the preachers were later to know, the victim had been a backslider, and the doctor was not born again.  This happened in Zaria, in northern Nigeria, over two decades ago.

Not all accidents are natural.  Some are remote-controlled. I have known a few cases of fatal falls, auto and plane crashes, strange afflictions, unnatural affections and ‘romantic’ attractions that were the result of the psychic science of remote controlling, despite the ready medical or other apparent ‘natural’ explanations to the ordinary observer.

 

This article is curled from a series titled, Spray Bullet

 

The Preachers Diary

 

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