April 2019

I noticed a man in a fast food restaurant, sitting in the corner all by himself.  I asked Jesus if I could approach him, but I didn’t hear anything.  So I did it anyway.  He was homeless and hungry so I offered to purchase him dinner.  His name was “D,” but he told me to call him “The Reaper.”  The Reaper had no teeth, smelled horrible, had really bad motor and vocal tics, and had a bad case of the “ipsy-slipsies” (When my oldest daughter was little, she used to call the use of bad words “ipsy-slipsies”).  It was extremely hard to understand The Reaper’s speech (except for the curse words of course, which seemed to come through loud and clear).  We sat next to each other and a conversation resulted.  The Reaper told me he was traveling through Salisbury looking for work.  I asked him what he did and that’s when things got crazy.  He told me he could body guard, was trained MMA, and had put a bullet in the head of a man for the mafia.  What [SMH]?  I don’t know.  Anyway, The Reaper told me when he was in DC his girlfriend told him his eyes went black (possession) and he threw a cop with one hand and that no man should be able to possess such strength – to which, I agreed (The Gerasene Demoniac).  He went to jail for that by the way.  He went on to tell me how his mother and father were married in a dark wedding (I have studied the fact that Satanic weddings are called Black Weddings), his families Celtic heritage and druidic history (occult), how as a child he was going to get baptized in a Catholic Church and all kinds of freaky supernatural phenomenon happened and on and on. I don’t scare easy, but the more I talked to The Reaper, the more I felt a profound, evil, demonic presence and I wanted to just get out of there.  The more I tried to bridge Jesus into the conversation or relate to what he was saying with something Biblical, he just became harder and harder to have a logical conversation with.  Whatever was inside of him didn’t want me to discuss Jesus, was adamantly forcing me away, projecting fear, and threatening physical violence.  I could feel it.  As he was finishing his meal, I thanked him for his time, excused myself from his presence and left the building.  I didn’t even stay to do what I went there to do.  Anyway, I meet the immediate need of the least of these and tried to preach Jesus to him.  Sometimes it goes no further than that.  I am always afraid not to entertain people like this; as Hebrews 13:2 says, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”  This verse didn’t apply today.  The Reaper turned into a devil.  I love this work.  You never know what you’re going to run into out here.  To quote Forest Gump, “Life is like a box of chocolates.” 

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