Sex with a Ghost 1&2

The church was otherwise dark and musky until an unexpected ray of sunlight pierced the stained glass windows. It supplied the church with plenty of light but not heat. It was "FREEDOM FROM ABOVE", our annual deliverance program.

Pastor Silas, on a black suit and pink tie, stood in the altar, in front of a glass pulpit and preached on repentance. He ranted and raved, gesticulated wildly, preaching with a pious sincerity, pouring out the raw words of God.

The children in the choir-stand fidgeted and whispered as the sermon went on. The old folks in the congregation flicked their eyes towards them all through the sermon with either exasperated expressions or scowls.

The sermon came to an end and it was time for worship. They all stood up, looking angelic in their white robes and ruffled collars. They sang, their voices sounded like angels, high notes soared over the roof. Their sweet songs burst open the gate of heaven. The Holy Spirit descended from above and people in the congregation began to feel his presence.

At the altar where I sat, I felt a sense of awe and relief – awe because I have been living in fornication and sexual sins and relief that I was in the presence of the Lord and anything is possible once those melodies go up, blessings are sure to come down. Suddenly, the song came to an abrupt end. The whole congregation turned their eyes to the choir, staring in anticipation, but the organist and the choir had not stopped to signal anything in particular and soon resumed another song.

Mrs Naomi was the first to catch the anointing. She gave out a loud scream that broke up the service and everyone turned to her direction at the centre of the church. She fell to the floor, rolling violently, collecting dust and dirt off the floor. Everyone watched with googled eyes and dismay, wondering why the most respected woman in the church was rolling on the floor as someone possessed.

Mrs Naomi was a deaconess in my church, a mother figure to not just me but the whole body of Christ. She was among the first few people that began the church with me. She has given a lot – financial, spiritual and moral support in making the church what it is right now. I have known her right from Aunt Uka's house, she was a neighbour and a friend to her. She was the one who gave Aunt Uka my phone number for her to call me and request that deliverance.

Some seconds after, she got on her knees and crawled out to the front while everyone avoided her like chickenpox. Pain in her heart and a wheezing sound, she roared in pain,

"I'm a witch! I had to kill them! I'm a witch oh!"

The congregation ran mad with rage, everyone shouting in anger, asking for her head. How loving and godly Christians can swiftly turn violent once there is a witch involved?

"Silence!" Pastor Silas commanded over the microphone. In seconds, peace and order returned to the place of God. He moved over to her on the floor and remarked, "Now, that's how the Holy Spirit makes an entrance".

"Please… Pastor! Make the fire stop! Make it stop!" she begged, still rolling on the cold tile. Going half-naked, while everyone watched in unbelief, not the faintest sign of sympathy present on their faces.

"I can't make the fire stop! Only you can, and you know what to do…" Pastor Silas echoed, taking a few steps backwards, pulling away from her reach.

"Nooooo! I can't confess!" she screamed in unbearable pain.

"You have to if you want the fire to stop!" he turned to the crowd of over three hundred keenly watching members and commanded "Keep praying! Ask the Lord for your own deliverance! Don't allow this witch to distract you from your breakthrough"

In seconds, the whole atmosphere engulfed in roars of prayers. Everyone shouting on top of their voices. Mrs Naomi got on her knees and crawled over to where I stood close to the altar. Her eyes were sunken deep in their sockets. Her mouth flecked with saliva. Her dirty arms outstretched she cried in agony

"Pastor Alex… Please… make the fire stop"

"Confess or die!" I snapped in fury. How can such a respected and devoted woman in my church be a witch? I pondered. How has she managed to remain under my radar this long?

"Do you still think you are a man of the cloth?" the voice in my head picked on me.

"What kind of question is that?" I confronted the voice.

"You are soaked in sexual immorality. Sleeping with the sisters in your church. My brother doesn't deceive yourself, the Holy Spirit is very far from you. He left you a long time ago. How would you know whether a witch is in your church" He sighed.

"Satan, get behind me" I countered the voice. "You accuser of the children of God. I have sought forgiveness from my father in heaven and like the prodigal son, He has forgiven me. You can't use the sins from my past to hold me captive"

"If you want to try yourself, command the evil spirit in that woman to come out once more and see how they bounce on you this very minute, reducing you to nothing but a fraud that you are" the voice threatened.