Our relationship lasted several years and toward the end, we were having a conversation about occult practices. He began to talk about the many times he had used black magic to manipulate people and what he had learned from it all. As he talked, his face again transformed into a pig image, snout and all. I wonder if what I was seeing had anything to do with his occult practices?

There are lots of stories here, that’s all for now.

Clyde didn’t want anything to do with me, so I started practicing astral projection and other forms of the occult in an effort to get his attention. Astral projection is where you send your spirit somewhere but your body stays behind. You know, you do these things and have no idea if they’re working. Something on the inside of you says: All that stuff is fake, it won’t work. And at first, that’s the way it seemed but then I started noticing things. Thing weren’t where I left them. I’d wake up in my clothes. I convinced myself these events were just memory lapses.

The guys in the upstairs apartment came over to invite me to a party. In the course of the conversation they asked, “Where do you go every night?” I asked them what they were talking about. They said, “You’re coming into the apartment every morning when we leave for work. We say hello, but you don’t answer.” Well, that really blew me away because they were construction workers and left early. I, on the other hand, did not have to be at work until 10 and slept late. I asked them what I was wearing, and they were able to describe my attire in detail. It was my favorite man seducing outfit. That’s when I knew that what I was doing was very real but I was in too deep to get out. Thing just got worse. I heard voices and I did what they told me. People looked in my eyes and could not talk to me. I felt like I was empty, I wasn’t there anymore. I was terrified and suicide seemed the only answer. I had it all planned, the when, how, where. It seemed to be the only way to escape this self-induced insanity. Tohuw va bohum, my soul was an utter wasteland.

Even though I wasn’t a Christian, I began to pray, “Lord, if you’ll put me back together I’ll never do that again.” Miracle of miracles, Clyde let me come over to his house. I went into the backyard and began to swing. As I swung I prayed, “Lord, just being here is a miracle so I know you had something to do with this. Please put me back together and I’ll never do this again!” Immediately, I could feel myself coming back. I felt whole again. Clyde then told me I had to leave, but that was okay.

A week or so later I had a dream. I saw myself standing at his door with my hand up to knock. It was my astral projection self up to its old tricks. I said, “Oh no you don’t. Come back right now!” And I never sent my spirit anywhere without my body again.

I was asked, “Do you believe that Jesus is the son of God and that God has raised him from the dead?” And I said, “Yes, I do.” I said yes to Jesus. My apostolic grandmother had gotten enough of the Bible into me that I knew when I made that decision angels in heaven were singing. I knew something had changed but I didn’t feel it. But oh, how that one decision to speak those words altered the course of my history! I continued to make other decisions, less significant but just as life changing: not to toke that joint, to go to church, not to associate with that person, to go to work each day, to read my Bible, to study God’s Word, and how my life is changed! I don’t recognize the person I used to be. And my life has never been the same, thank God!