EVERYONE, PLEASE REMEMBER... THE MOST IMPORTANT DECISION YOU WILL MAKE IN YOUR LIFE IS TO ACCEPT JESUS CHRIST AS YOUR SAVIOR.

EVERYTHING ELSE IS SECONDARY.

This is my testimony of how I became a born-again Christian.

For as long as I remember, ever since I was a kid I was interested in the occult. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that occultism was practiced by my ancestors. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that as an individual, I never had a forceful personality.

I hated that. Which is probably why the occult fascinated me. I’d always wondered what the future held in store for me, probably because I was impatient by nature back then. I read horoscopes endlessly. The ones in the newspaper were never enough; I’d get books from the library and read those, then buy more from Chapters or Indigo and do some more cross-referencing. Sun sign, moon sign, sidereal aspect, planets in the houses, rising signs; I studied everything. I became so good at it I started drawing up charts for friends and family members. In addition to this I bought a pack of tarot cards, which I used for fortune telling. I did the same with a pack of regular playing cards.

Yet for some reason the ‘fortunes’ told by the cards and my astrology chart were never enough. They seemed too vague. I wanted specifics, so I started paying money to ‘fortune tellers’ and waited breathlessly to see what they would say. Hundreds of dollars and dozens of syrupy reports later I realized I had been scammed.

Instead of turning me off the occult forever, it inspired me to become the author of my own destiny, so to speak. I started reading about wicca and became very interested in spell casting. It sounded so harmless. As long as you didn’t try to hurt anyone, you weren’t doing anything wrong. It never occurred to me that by casting a spell for a job, for example, I would be giving myself an unfair advantage over all the other applicants. I was greedy and selfish and if the spells helped me achieve my ends, who cared about anyone else?

Keep in mind that all this time, I considered myself ‘Christian’. I believed that Jesus died for our sins, but I was in no way close to Him. I sometimes thought of myself as agnostic. I was definitely ecumenical. I believed in the theory of evolution. I thought you could die, go to heaven and come back again and be able to talk about it. Later in my life Jesus would point me to websites that explained how wrong all of these ideas are.

Back to me and wicca. Anyone who’s gotten involved in wicca will know there are literally hundreds of rituals to be found online. There were several I jotted down. One was for work, as mentioned before. Another one was for inspiration, which I used a lot when I was stuck for ideas for my fanfics. Back in 2002 I used to watch a lot of shows, but for some reason the Powerpuff Girls stuck in my mind. A story idea came to me; I wrote it down, posted it and went away for a few days. When I came back, there were five reviews sitting in my inbox.

For someone like myself who didn’t have much self-esteem, fanfic writing seemed like a godsend. Stories poured out of my brain, though at that time I didn’t notice the content of what I was writing. I made lots of online acquaintances and was having the time of my life. Pathetic, isn’t it?

I’m going to admit that back then, if I was stuck for plotlines I would sometimes cast a spell for inspiration. Those always worked and within half an hour I’d be writing again. But like I said, I didn’t realize the content of my stories was getting darker and darker. I think even if I did notice, I wouldn’t have cared because back then, the writing was a means to an end. My entire identity had become wrapped up in being this online persona called ‘Ivygreen’. Fool that I was, I thought I had become some kind of celebrity. Talk about an idiot! I was determined that nobody would ever take that ‘crown’ away from me. That included people who pooh-poohed my ideas or, heaven forbid, criticized anything I wrote.

So I started picking fights with people online. Too stupid to stay away from those I disagreed with, I would argue and swear and insult them. How I loved to insult people! One of the things that despairs me the most is my vicious tongue. The apostle James was right when he said, “And the tongue is a fire, the very world of iniquity; the tongue is set among our members as that which defiles the entire body, and sets on fire the course of our life, and is set on fire by hell. 7 For every species of beasts and birds, of reptiles and creatures of the sea, is tamed and has been tamed by the human race. 8 But no one can tame the tongue; it is a restless evil and full of deadly poison.” (James 3:6-8) That was my tongue all right, full of poison. What I couldn’t accomplish by my presence, I did by saying the meanest things I could think of. I thought I was pretty smart, cutting people down and dissecting them like so much firewood.

By this time, my repertoire of fanfic subjects had grown. I’d started off with basic ‘cute’ PPG stories but thought, like so many others do, that a sign of ‘maturity’ is to write more adult, obscene things. So I began throwing in cuss words and mature situations. I wrote a garbage novella featuring Blossom having a romance with that demonic character from the show. On other forums, which sponsored different themes like Harry Potter, I wrote in great detail about the spells the characters cast. Hey, I was an expert like them, wasn’t I? The crowning glory was when I wrote a pornographic HP story, submitted it and got tons of glowing reviews. Yep, ‘adulthood’ in the fanfic world was everything it was cracked up to be!

Inspired by this I started posting yet another PPG story, this one with lesbian overtones. I believe this was either in late 2005 or early 2006. It didn’t matter that just a few years before I would never have contemplated thinking about something like that, forget writing it down and posting it online. Like I said, the writing had become addicting to me; it was like a drug. The more I wrote, the less fulfilling it was. I had to write more and more just to get the same level of satisfaction that first short story gave me years before.

So there I was in 2006, full of ego, bad-tempered, throwing spells and hexes at anyone who got in my bad books. By then I was also dabbling in voodoo, but never got too deep into that. I was ripe for a fall, and when it happened it wasn’t pretty.

It was at that time God decided this nonsense had gone on long enough and stepped in. I’m not allowed to write the details because of the legalities concerned but suffice it to say that I brought my downfall on myself. Why? Because I thought the best way to get even with someone who’d offended me was to bray about their private life on the internet. I guess the one way to describe my reaction is that I felt as if someone had slapped me very hard in the face. Which I certainly deserved, of course.

One of the first things I did after that was to throw out my tarot cards. I was angry they hadn’t warned me that I’d been digging myself into a massive hole. After all, weren’t they supposed to be on my side? So they went in the garbage, followed by the regular playing cards.

I’d like to be able to say I got rid of all my occult junk at that point, started reading the Bible fervently and everything was hunky dory from then on. The truth is, I deleted all of my fanfics and took a sabbatical from the Internet.

Unfortunately, during that time (2006-2008) my interest in Harry Potter grew stronger.

I have to explain something at this point. I used to be one of those people who scoffed at the ‘fundies’ who warned about how evil Harry Potter is. Well, I soon learned that they were right. It started when I bought one of the HP video games. I normally played it after the end of the workday, usually just before going to bed. This was a game based on the first book in the series, which was supposedly ‘kid-friendly’. But for some unknown reason, I always got the creeps while I was playing it, and that creepy feeling stayed with me long after I went to bed.

Sometime after that is when the night attacks began. I refuse to call it ‘night terrors’ because those are usually explained away as bad dreams. These were entirely different. The first time I remember feeling like I was being held down by something extremely evil. For some reason I called on Jesus to save me from my attacker. Remember, the Jesus I thought of in passing, who I wasn’t quite sure I thought existed?

When I cried out to Him, a huge bolt of lightning flashed behind my eyelids. Whatever had been holding me down instantly let me go. I felt as though that evil, suffocating presence had gone from the room. I was grateful to Jesus for rescuing me, but not enough to stay away from the Harry Potter stuff. The result, predictably, was that I was attacked a second time in my sleep a few months later. Once again I called on Jesus for help and once again He responded. No excuses, no “You never talk to Me, so why should I help you now?” He just did it. That is the depth of love he has for ALL of us, regardless of how close or far away we are in our walk with Him.

Now, the entity that attacked me was connected with Harry Potter, of that I’m sure. However, through my research I’ve learned that when you get involved in the occult you’re communicating with demons. They often disguise themselves as deceased loved ones, which they can do because after all they’ve been roaming the earth with Satan for thousands of years. Since demons are fallen angels they are immortal, and they spend a lot of time observing people. It’s no wonder they can imitate someone’s appearance and way of speaking.

My point is that when you serve Satan through dabbling in the occult, you basically invite these beings into your life. Anyone who’s had a bad experience with the ouija board knows what I’m talking about. The only way to get rid of them is to ask Jesus to protect you. If you can’t do it on your own (depending on how strong your walk with God is, or how strong the demon is), go to a church and get a pastor to help you. You don’t have to have an exorcism; that’s something the Catholic Church made up in one of its attempts to control the masses.

Have you ever noticed something about most religions EXCEPT Protestant Christianity? Whether it’s Hinduism or Buddhism, whether it’s Islam or Mormonism, whether it’s Shinto or Catholicism or anything else, the only way you can approach a god or ‘God’ is through extensive ritual. You have to wear special clothing, or pour rum on the ground, or light incense, or say a special prayer before the deity will accept your presence.

The real God is not like that. We are currently in the age of grace, aka the Church age. We have a mediator in Jesus, which makes it possible for us to speak DIRECTLY to him. No rituals needed. No sacred underwear. No Mary, no muss, no fuss. Just talk to Him and tell Him your worries, your fears, and of course thank Him for your daily blessings.

I'm sorry if the above paragraphs offend anyone, but it's the truth.

Getting back to the occult, I still had a lot of the wiccan paraphernalia in my home when something happened to me. Since I possess an inferior layer of skin I’ve been subject to all the gross things it can squish through its pores – acne, blackheads, boils, you name it. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I have several cysts here and there. Two have been embedded in my neck for years, but my body apparently decided that wasn’t enough and sprouted one on the outside of my left knee.

Since I sleep on my left side, it was quite painful. In addition I would sometimes bump into a chair or desk at work and aggravate the cyst, so I decided to have it removed at an outpatient clinic. The surgery went well, but the recovery did not. Within days the incision had become infected. If I knew then what I know now, I would have put Polysporin on a bandage, slapped it over the opening and forgotten about it. But I didn’t, so I worried constantly about the oozing area. I managed to get a hold of the surgeon on Sunday and he told me to come in the next day to take a look at it.

So there I was on Sunday night, lying sleepless in bed, unable to turn on my left side and wondering if things could get any worse. I shifted my head and caught a glimpse of something from the corner of my left eye. I turned that way and saw an outline of an angel standing in front of my door.

I turned away, thinking that yes, things had gotten worse and on top of everything else I had lost my mind. I turned back to the door, but the angel’s outline had gone. I lay awake thinking about it for days and weeks afterwards, long after I had the infection treated and it finally cleared up. I didn’t tell a soul about the visitation because I knew they would tell me I’d imagined it, or that I had fallen asleep and I’d dreamt it or that I was flat-out crazy.

I had never been one to worship angels or even think of them much, but I became curious and started researching them online. I discovered many things about them, mainly that they are used by God as messengers or to carry out His will, like when the destroying angel struck down all the firstborn in Egypt (Exodus 11,12:1-30). And that was when I was led to the first of many websites which showed me, for the first time in my life, what Christianity is about.

Remember how I said I thought I was a Christian, even though I used to be agnostic and practiced the occult? I discovered that if you are TRULY in a WALK with Jesus, you wouldn’t want to think such things or do such things. Because surface Christianity is all about going to church, behaving nicely and giving to the poor. But that is not what Jesus wants from us. We’re supposed to HAVE A RELATIONSHIP with him, which means we drop everything – all our emotional crutches, our excuses, anything else – and lean entirely on Him. As someone has said, sitting in a garage doesn’t turn you into a car; similarly, going to church doesn’t make you a Christian. I’m not saying that all people who go to church are unsaved; of course not. But there are many who think they’re saved because they go to church, which is a fundamental difference.

In any event, this was quite a revelation to me. I eagerly started reading about Jesus and His promises to mankind, especially the prophecies that must come to pass before He comes back to earth. I learnt a lot of things about demons and how they trick humans into believing that they are the spirits of dead people. I also learned how dangerous the occult is, whether you’re a dabbler or a full-out Satanist.

Around this time something else happened to me. I don’t remember exactly how it started, but I do know that my mind – not my brain, but my mind – felt like it was on fire, almost like it was burning up. At the same time I started literally seeing things in a different way, almost like a 3-D effect.

When the Holy Spirit indwells you, God gives you at least one spiritual gift. Sometimes it’s prophecy; sometimes it’s speaking in tongues. Sometimes it turns you into an evangelist. And sometimes it gives you spiritual discernment, which was what was happening to me.

For two weeks my mind remained in this state. Every spare moment I had I would pick up the Bible and read it, which I never used to do before. I saw things in a new light – for example, I would pick up an orange and marvel that God had created this fruit for us to eat, whereas before I just saw it as something that had ‘evolved by chance’ and eventually ended up in the supermarket. I couldn’t read enough about Jesus, which was new to me because for my entire life I’d never felt close to Him, not even when I asked Him to save me from the demons that attacked me in my sleep. I’d always related to God, but Jesus… that was something else, something very deep and personal. It was then I understood the meaning of the words, “Jesus wants a relationship with you”.

At the end of the second week, God gave me a test to see if I’d learnt all my lessons and knew how to apply spiritual discernment. There was a copy of Betty Eadie’s ‘Embraced by the Light’ lying around the apartment and I’d read it before, believing, of course, everything it said. But when I picked it up this time and flipped through the pages, it opened to the part where she claims she died, went to heaven and came back.

Now, there are several passages in the Bible that show that this is NOT possible. Nobody is allowed to speak about what they see in heaven. I told myself that this is false information; it’s not true. As soon as that thought entered my head, the burning sensation in my mind started to dissipate. Soon it was gone and I felt a sense of tremendous loss.

However, the discernment has stayed with me. It’s completely changed how I view things, and by that I mean the messages we’re bombarded with every day on TV. For example I used to enjoy watching X-Files reruns, but after my eyes were spiritually opened I couldn’t look at an episode without saying, “That’s not a UFO, it’s a demonic deception!” or, “There are no such things as ghosts, they’re demons in disguise!” It was the same with most other programs because they’re usually not family friendly. Even some kindergarten shows will have a fortune teller or someone who has to cast a spell to get something done. It’s sad, really.

The discernment finally gave me the drive to toss out my occult paraphernalia. And it was a lot; as I made trip after trip to the garbage bin I was shocked at how many bottles of special oils, different coloured candles and other ritualistic junk I’d accumulated over the years. My Harry Potter books went out too, along with the video games. Anything that slightly reeked of the occult went into the trash heap.

Recall how I said I’d never really noticed what I was writing as I went through my downward spiral? In 2009 I looked through my stories, many of which I still had on my hard drive. One was the stupid demonic romance I mentioned before. Another one featured reincarnation. Another one had the lesbian theme. There were several I hadn’t published which were pornographic in nature. They all got deleted.

I don’t read my horoscope anymore. I’ve actually forgotten what my ‘sign’ is supposed to be. Someone at work asked me recently and I just stared at her because I had no idea what she was talking about.

I also don’t write that much anymore. I’m too busy, and I no longer have that need to post a story and get positive reviews in order to feel good about myself. When you realize that this world is just a tiny flicker of time in comparison to eternity, which we will be spending either in heaven or hell, well… things like positive reviews tend to fade in comparison.

Ever since 2008 I’ve spent countless hours reading the Bible, researching Bible prophecy and watching as the pieces slowly but surely move into position to bring about God’s promised end-time events. I never used to believe in the pre-tribulation Rapture of the church, but I believe it now. Logically it’s the only thing that makes sense.

I hadn’t planned to put this on my ‘Ivygreen’ account, mainly because I was such a douche when I was active on this site. But in early 2013 I happened to check on it, even though I hadn’t thought of it in years. I noticed I was still getting visitors even though I hadn’t posted any stories in a long, long time. So I decided to write my testimony as proof that if God can save someone as awful as myself, He can do it for you.

If you haven’t accepted Jesus as your saviour, won’t you do so today? Time is growing short and He’s waiting for the last person to come to Him before He takes His bride (the church, aka Christians) out of the world. After that, the end times judgments will take place and believe me, you don’t want to be here for that.

I testify that every single word I’ve said in this account is true. Jesus is coming back soon to take His rightful place as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.