I Cried Out to the Name Demons Fear Most
I grew up on Long Island, New York, as part of an Italian and culturally Catholic family. Christmas for me was mainly about Santa Claus, antipasto, and pretty lights on houses. I had no faith in Jesus Christ whatsoever, and attending church wasn’t usually on the agenda.
Even at a very young age, I was aware of the spiritual realm. At home, there was lots of conversation about ghosts—how they would play with the lights and knock things off the shelves. My sister told me about the time her pals got together and used an Ouija board, assuming it was an innocent game. The girls asked the board who among them would die first, and they got an answer. Not long after, the girl in question died of suicide.
I was only 12 when I started receiving what felt like psychic attacks. I had two dreams that included predictions about events that ended up happening. These premonitions were nothing profound, but they were certainly very creepy.
My sister and I started performing tarot readings for each other. It was so addictive, like eating potato chips. Throughout my teens, I delved into other divination tools like numerology charts, astrology charts, angel cards, and runes.
But the further I went down that road, the more it seemed demons were surrounding me. At the time, I wouldn’t have known to call them demons, but I experienced so many moments of fear. I felt them touching me, and I could see them manifesting as shadowy figures, animals, and what looked like human beings.
Eventually, I started my own divination group. I taught a variety of New Age techniques like chakra balancing, tarot reading, psychic mediumship, meditation, smudging, and past-life automatic writings. I had my students make vision boards to visualize what they were manifesting.
I loved the thought of helping clients attain the desires of their hearts and communicate with their loved ones. But I lived in constant fear of bad spirits and what they would do to me. In my mid-30s, at a moment of especially intense fear, I suddenly cried out the name of Jesus Christ. Not my spirit guide or a deceased person or an angel—Jesus!
I didn’t know why this name came to my lips. But almost immediately, to use biblical language, I felt a peace that surpasses all understanding (Phil. 4:7). This began my journey to full Christian faith. I didn’t know I was a sinner in need of a Savior. And I had no idea what the gospel was. But I knew I didn’t want to be a psychic anymore.
When I got home, the Holy Spirit immediately called my attention to the Word of God. I needed to know what the Bible said about my profession.
I didn’t have a Bible on hand, so I asked Google, “What does the Bible say about psychic mediums?” And I was shocked to find verses answering this question throughout God’s Word—verses like Deuteronomy 18:9–13, which condemn anyone who “practices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or … consults the dead.” Since Jesus had saved me, I would have to pick up my cross and follow him, even at the cost of quitting my job.
In the ten years since Jesus has changed my heart and my life as only he can. I am no longer caught in the hamster wheel of New Age techniques, endlessly seeking peace, joy, and fulfilment without finding them.
Also Read:
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Nehemiah’s Leadership Playbook: Mission
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When Dad was Coming Home
Testimonies
Lord I’m Ready Now
