⚔️ The Reality of Spiritual Warfare
Yes, spiritual warfare is real. And yes, Jesus has already won.
But that doesn’t mean the enemy stops trying to whisper lies, stir confusion, or wear us out.
My personal battle with spiritual warfare began early—at just 7 years old—after my maternal grandmother passed away. Someone told me she was in Heaven, where there is no sickness—only joy and healing. I remember thinking, “I want to go there.” That night, a pair of dark, hovering eyes appeared in my room. They followed me in the dark—watching, waiting. I was old enough to wonder what could create such a thing, but too young to understand what I was truly encountering.
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Over the years, those eyes returned—especially whenever I searched for God. Every time I stepped into a worship service, opened a Bible, or tried to draw near to Jesus, the darkness intensified. I didn’t understand it, but I knew something was resisting me.
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By college, I couldn’t sleep in the dark. I kept every light on like a prison cell. But even that couldn’t keep away what came next.
Around 2009 or 2010, the attacks escalated into full-blown sleep paralysis. Lying there, my mind completely awake, but unable to move, speak, trapped, frozen. A dark presence would enter the room. I couldn’t speak. Sometimes I heard yelling, but the words were distorted. I would whisper the Guardian Angel prayer in my spirit, clinging to whatever light I could.
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But the battle didn’t stop.
In 2013, the attacks became constant. I’d lie awake, terrified, for hours. I wasn’t baptized yet. I didn’t know who Jesus really was. But by 2015, I began crying out for Him more intentionally. I begged for help—and the presence would flee… but only temporarily. It always came back. For nearly five months, I lived in a cycle of momentary relief and spiritual torment.
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Even in my dreams, I cried out, “Jesus, save me.”
The fear wasn’t just in my sleep. It followed me into the day. I was scared to use the bathroom alone. I avoided mirrors for years—they carried the same eerie weight I felt in the night. I lived in constant fear, wondering if freedom was even possible.
But God.
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When I was 8, even before I understood what sleep paralysis was, I experienced audible frights—screams and terrifying noises that no one else could hear. I’d go to sleep with blankets over my ears to shield myself from the yelling.
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In college, I was living alone on the third floor of Campbell Hall. The spiritual doors I had opened—through sin and numbness—left me vulnerable. I drank constantly, partied nonstop, and smoked weed to sleep. It was the only way I could turn off the fear.
Sober nights were the worst. I couldn’t rest. I tried sleeping on the floor, changing beds, keeping lights on—nothing helped. When I tried turning back to God, the attacks got worse. So I gave up.
I had a boyfriend who was starting to seek God. I went along with it, not really knowing what he meant. When he broke up with me—he was crying. I sat there, mostly sad that we wouldn’t make out anymore. I was completely lost.
💔“The flesh enjoys the sins because it won’t go to Heaven with you.”🥀
That truth has never left me.
When I stopped chasing God, the attacks stopped. I started sleeping again. But it was a counterfeit peace. And even when I had no strength to pray, God sent people who prayed for me anyway.
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I graduated in 2013 and began working at Camping World. At 23, I was making great money and living recklessly—sex, weed, rage, wild nights, sharp words. I was drowning in sin, but still, God kept sending people to invite me to church. Every time I went, I cried through the worship. “Why do You still want me, God?”
The answer came in more night terrors. More screams. So I stopped looking for Him again.
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In 2015, I moved to Oakwood, GA. I was poorer than I ever thought possible while working full-time. Every paycheck left me with $200 after taxes. I lost nearly 30 pounds because I couldn’t afford real food, and I was allergic (all the grease, butter and sugar) to most Southern cooking. I was hungry—spiritually and physically.
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And then… God sent Jim. My “Uncle James.” A gentle soul. He always noticed when I was hanging on by a thread. Always offered a hug. He was God’s kindness in human form.
One day, I said to God, “Fine, I’ll give You another shot.” I didn’t have a Bible. I barely had faith. But I remembered someone once said, “God will always provide.” And He did. My coworkers just happened to always have food. Sandwiches. Leftovers. Enough.
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Then came a surprising part time job with Monster Energy. I acquainted with the city of Atlanta, giving away free drinks, and wearing cool swag. It felt like a fresh start. Then Larry showed up—pretending to shop for an RV, but really recruiting. Monday to Friday. Salary. Benefits. Sailing on weekends and Wednesdays on Lake Lanier. Then came my awesome cowoerks who truly came along side me in Christ: Christine, Juan, Sheila, Tobie, Carrie. They have left a huge impression on my life and guided me through the darkest times of my life. Life felt good again.
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As I closed my chapter at Camping World in Oakwood, GA, I was deeply sad to leave behind my good old Uncle Jim. But God, already ahead of my sorrow, sent someone new—his wife, Aunt Edith. She’s one of the best aunties you could ask for—quick-witted, grounded, deeply wise. We instantly connected. She became the anchor I didn’t know I’d need for the next chapter.
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Remember how I said I always somehow ended up in the wrong crowd, but God never failed to send someone to pull me back to the narrow path? Praise the Lord for Aunt Edith. She gently, yet firmly, snatched me away from the Lake Lanier Lost Boys (as we joke now). She taught me real sailing techniques and surrounded me with a safer crew—a better crowd. And I’m fairly certain they, too, were secretly praying my way into heaven.
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To this day, Uncle Jim and Aunt Edith are still my anchors—for sailing, for prayer, and for so much more.
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During this season, God sent Jill. A safe space. A spiritual sister. She let me stay with her on weekends when I was too scared to be alone. She bought me my first Bible study workbook—in New Living Translation, a version I could actually understand. Jill didn’t just teach me about God. By her example of love, mercy, tenderness of a mother. She lived the faith out loud. I am forever thankful and grateful for her and her family.
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Then came Sheri.
We met at the Barefoot Sailing Club’s annual Lobster Broil that September. I mentioned my degree from the University of Northern Iowa—Bachelor of Science in Family Services. She said, “The world needs more people like you.”
But “me” back then? I was still living for the world. Paycheck to paycheck. Flesh-driven thrill to thrill. I dismissed our connection for a while. But after a conversation with God, I felt prompted to call her.
We met for lunch. I didn’t know what I was walking into… but maybe she did. Maybe God had already prepared her heart before I even reached out.
That lunch turned into tears of desperation—a cry for community, for grace, for a safe place in the Father’s hands. She had just retired from the Methodist Church, and thank God for her yes. I called her constantly. And to this day, I’m shocked she still answers.
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The next two years?
I learned who God is.
Then, two more years: I learned who Jesus is.
Then came the Holy Spirit.
And in 2019, God called me to baptism.
I was finally baptized on December 14, 2019.
The torments did not stop until Easter Vigil 2021, the night I was confirmed in the Catholic Church. That night, true deliverance began.
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🙏 Prayer for Freedom from Sleep Paralysis
Heavenly Father,
You have given me authority over all principalities in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.
With this authority I rebuke, reject, and renounce sleep paralysis. (Repeat x3)
I render them all dumb, deaf, impotent, paralyzed, and unable to communicate with one another,
and I send them directly to the foot of the cross, never to return again.
In those empty spaces, I ask You to fill me with peace, joy, and hope.
I praise You and thank You for Your healing, love, and grace.
In Jesus’ Mighty Name,
Amen.