Laudetur Iesus Christus!
Nunc et in aeternum! Amen.
All right. After that previous post of randomness I feel like sharing something a bit more serious.
I have shared about my experience with what I honest to God believe was an encounter with demonic entities and Our Lady and the angels’ protection.
But it didn’t start there.
I want to tell you how I came to know more and more with more certitude that: a.) angels exist, b.) there are good AND evil angels, and c.) both sides are very powerful.
I had a lot of experiences in college that I most probably would not have had had I taken that full-ride to the Catholic university in Detroit. I would not have met the people I met. I would not have learned some of the things I learned.
There are some things for I am very grateful to God and then there are others that I probably should not have learned but now I am the wiser.
I think I will tell the “lighter” story first.
One of my friends in college had a deck of angel cards. Now, she was and is not a Wiccan. Though I do know a couple Wiccans. She’s a Christian. She just has some rather eclectic tastes in certain things but she NEVER touched the dark stuff. if she had I would have done away with them.
I was not as prudent in my decisions back then and I figured that since they were not expressly tarot cards that they were not that bad. I had found myself flipping through the deck before to admire the beautiful angel images.
Well, she told me to try them out and see what I drew and what they meant.
I was kinda reticent but I did it anyway because none of the cards seemed very bad save for the couple that were fallen angels.
She shuffled the deck, laid them out before me face-down, and told me to pick any one.
I picked one at random more interested in the pretty image than what it meant.
I chuckled, “What a co-inky-dink.”
“What is it?” my friend asked.
“Look what I pulled.” I replied as I turned it round to show her.
She chuckled. “Of course you would get that one.”
It was Saint Michael the Archangel.
I gave her the card and she put it back into the deck. She then shuffled it well.
She laid them out before me again as she had before.
“Pick one again.”
I pick one from the opposite side of the line.
I flip it over.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Are you serious? You pulled him again?! How is that possible?! This is a huge deck!”
“I think he’s trying to tell me something.”
“Let’s try it again to be sure this is not just your Nunny-ness rubbing onto my cards.”
I give her the card back and she REALLY shuffles the deck.
“Okay, if you pull him again then there is something something going on here.”
She spreads the deck out. I close my eyes and pick one out blindly.
I flip it over.
“Holy Mother Church (that’s been a catch phrase of mine for a while)!”
“Are you kidding?! THREE TIMES?!?!”
Yep. I kid you not. I pulled the exact same card three times in a row. And all three times, they happened to be Saint Michael.
He was totally trying to tell me something there. Namely: “Why are doing this, Allie? You know better.”
Some may just see it as a coincidence but I don’t believe in those. Nothing truly happens randomly. Everything is part of the plan of God in one way or another. Even the bad things. Even the really dark things though God being All-Benevolent cannot will bad to happen but permit it in order to bring us closer to Him by our perserverance in His grace and love.
Now for the darker story and how I came to be reinforced in my belief in the existence of evil in a very real sense. Also, how my love for Saint Michael grew because of his powerful protection.
It was my sophomore year of college. We were bored one night so a bunch of us decided we wanted to do some exploring of the still-new city in which we were going to school. Grand Rapids is very different from Detroit so we decided to take advantage of it.
One of my acquaintances (who happens to be an “atheist”) decided that we were going to one of the old cemeteries near campus and walk around.
Mind you, it was going to be about 10pm/11pm when we went so it was well after dark and any prudent person would probably have decided it not a good idea.
But being bored imprudent college students that we were, we went along if only for the sake of having something to do with our restless selves.
One of the persons who went with us is one of my close friends who was rediscovering her Catholic faith after being more of a progressive bent for a time (happeh clappeh Haugen-Daaz liturgy and theology) so we stuck together since everyone else in our group were either agnostic, some kind of Wiccan, or atheist. No one can say I am myopic with my acquaintances. being secure in one’s faith helps when questions arise.
In retrospect, it was not a very good idea but I learned from my experience even if it was not fun. I confessed it and I have moved on.
We loaded into the car and drove out to the cemetery.
It was one of those really old cemeteries that has the cool aged headstones with generations of families resting therein. Little to no light save for the faint moonlight and the tiny specks of light from the porch lights of the surrounding houses (it was a rather large piece of land).
We walked into the cemetery and explored. My Catholic friend and I made sure to be very respectful and try not to walk on the graves. We looked at the headstones and wondered at the age of some of the persons interred. Some very young people and others very old. The young ones died either as a result of antiquated medicine and the difficulty of life back in the day compared to today.
A couple of us brought cameras and were taking pictures to see what they could find. My friend and I believed in the existence of angels and all that so we didn’t need substantial proof so we abstained from that whole thing and just walked around.
The atheist in our party was truly making an ass of himself. Walking all over graves and taunting “whatever was there, if anything.”
My Catholic friend and I were getting upset with his blatant irreverence and disrespect. We tried to get him to stop.
We kept walking around and praying for the souls of those in the cemetery.
There were times when we felt quite safe, like there were others with us protecting us. We walked around freely and spent time with the dead.
Then there were other times when (as we later revealed to each other) where we were quite uneasy. Like there was something that did not want us there. Like there was something that wanted us out and would do anything to get us out.
We kept walking through. I feeling a bit uneasy but I figured it was just nerves and the eerie silence of the place save for the idiocy of the atheist.
Then I bent down to tie my shoes that had come undone which was strange because I tie my shoes tight and in a way that they do not come undone easily.
I got up from tying my shoes and my friend handed my flashlight back.
Then it hit me.
Something that filled me with fear. Something was staring me down and it was behind me.
Then, in my heart I heard, “Don’t turn around. Walk briskly but don’t run. Get out now!”
I looked at my friend and said, “We have to get out of here. Now.”
“Did you hear that in your heart too?” she asked me.
So we walked out together. We told the others that we had to leave. Now.
Most of them listened. One of them dawdled (guess who) until the last moment.
She and I walked out and went straight for the car. All the while we were in the cemetery, we felt like we were being followed. Once we left the cemetery, we felt them but they would not/could not follow us.
We drove back to campus. My friend and I sat in silence, looking at each other, while the other chatted it up like they had just had a pleasant jaunt.
Eventually, our group broke up save for me and my friend.
It was then that we began to share our experiences. The feelings of fear and hatred. The feelings of peace and protection. Then what we both heard in our hearts telling us to get out and not look back.
We were convinced that it was our guardian angel and/or Saint Michael.
We also promised to NEVER do that ever ever ever again no matter how “bored” we may be and no matter who is trying to get us to go along with it.
Then things started happening to us.
She would be in her room and she would feel these evil presence in her room that would not leave. She had me bless her room with my trusty bottle of holy water. That helped alleviate that though they came back. That’s when I blessed her walls with my relic oil (including one that touched the Holy Cross). That sealed her room nicely.
I would be woken up quite regularly at either 3 o’clock in the morning or 3:33 in the morning to a banging on my door or wall next to my bed (no one lived in the room next to me). When I would spring from my bed, I would look around to see what it was.
Every time it was the same thing.
I have a picture of Christ rebuking Satan that had been touched to a mess of first class relics that I had stuck to my wall with blue ticky-tack/teacher tack.
Almost every time, that picture would be pulled from the wall in a way that the tack would be stretched as if someone tried to pull it off the wall but was kept from pulling it off all the way.
Other times, it was my Saint Michael icon. That one was a bit more painful.
At those times, it would be pulled off my wall and it would either hit me on the back or smack me in the face depending on how I was sleeping in my bed.
That would really scare me.
Immediately I would grab my bottle of holy water and bless the room and myself. I would pray a Saint Michael prayer and ask my angel to watch over me and protect me from whatever it was that had just attacked me.
Until I had blessed myself and the room and said those prayers, I would feel a presence in the room that surrounded me with hatred. It was like having someone in the room that is staring at you with pure hatred as if they wanted you dead.
When I told one of my priest-friends about the experiences we had, he would say, “Ms. Allie, that’s how the Evil One is. He hates completely. He wants to see you, me, everyone dead and in Hell with him. He wants each of us to suffer unspeakable horrors. He wants us dead and in a dumpster.”
Actually, that happened to me again quite recently. I had just finished praying Vespers and Compline and was drifting off to sleep. Just as my eyes were closing, I heard something that sounded like it was pulled off my wall.
Then … boom! Something hit me on the right shoulder blade.
I sat up and looked for what hit me.
It was my guardian angel cross that I have had over my bed since I was a baby (I brought it with me to the convent and it was the first thing I packed when I left).
Sometimes when the ticky-tack gets dried out, things fall from the wall but the laws of gravity cause them to fall straight to the floor. For this this thing to do what it did, it had to be pulled from the wall, pass my tall headboard, and fly in such a way that it hit me squarely on the right scapula. This was not just it falling. It was thrown at me.
Needless to say it scared me a bit. Prayed my Saint Michael prayer and my guardian angel prayer and went back to sleep but it still had me creeped out.
But anyway, back to the topic …
It was after these experiences began that my devotion to Saint Michael and my guardian angel began to really take off. I have always loved Saint Michael but now I really knew for a fact that he was with me and so was my guardian angel. My experience later in college only reinforced and reminded me of this reality.
Do not let anyone tell you that demons do not exist. They do. And they are very powerful. More powerful than we are. They are much more crafty and intelligent than we are. They are pure spirit. They are not limited by corporeality like man is. They do not tire. They are always active. They just know how to bide time and take advantage of our weaknesses.
Remember, one of the reasons why Lucifer (“light-bearer”) rebelled against God was because of jealousy. He was jealous that God had exalted a creature of His that was inferior to him in such a way that He become incarnate (aka Christ). He was jealous that God gave man such dignity and power when he, a seraph and the highest and most powerful of the angels, was not shown such honor. That was one of the root causes of his rebellion in which he cried, “I will not serve!” “Non serviam!” He refused to be subject to an inferior creature.
Hence why he and all the fallen angels hate us so completely and want nothing more than our destruction.
Hence why we must be devoted to our guardian angels and holy patrons, especially Saint Michael who is believed to be the guardian of the whole Church. It is even said that he is especially the guardian angel of the Pope. I can kinda see why that would be since the Pope is the Vicar of Christ … he would be a major target for the Evil One.
All right, I am off to bed. Imma try to get some sleep. It’s still hawt up heah. I really want a really nice rain/thunderstorm to get rid of this heat and humidity, it’s doing a number on me. At least we’re going for a swim tomorrow after Mass! YAY!
Have a nice night!