Another physical manifestation of the spiritual incarceration was when just after midnight one of my neighbor’s big Rottweilers started barking at the partiers next door to it.  The dog was just two or three doors down from me, but between the barks and the partiers yelling back at it, there would be no sleep till something was done.  So I waited and prayed then felt a leading to take one of my dog’s rawhides over to it.  

When I walked out there, I saw the poor huge beast barking fiercely but I could tell it was scared.  The partiers, drunk, drugged up, or just cruel yelled and threw stuff at  it.  I walked up calmly to the pup and spoke softly to it.  It barked at me suddenly as if it didn’t know I was there.  I reached out to it and held out the rawhide.  The partiers quieted down a little and no longer seemed interested in the dog, either that or they were waiting to see if it would eat me.  The pup ran back toward the garage door, and sat with its back to it while continuing to bark at me.  I kept my distance and tossed it the rawhide.  It quickly and quietly started chewing on it.  By then the partiers had gone and silence returned.

I went home reflecting on what just happened and it occurred to me that the way to treat the beast was not to scream and shout like the partiers, but to show it love.  It reminds me of the Gerasene Demoniac in Mark 5:1-20.  Jesus freed a tortured man who was possessed by demons and had been put in chains till he broke them apart.  By casting the demons out He gave the man true freedom and returned him to his right mind.

I knew the way for this revival would be through love, and I was determined to not let fear bark my prayers away.

We got to know an older lady neighbor of ours who we began taking to church.  She filled us in on so much:  from the neighborhood cat lady (every place has one) to the stories of the other neighbors.  I told her of my prayers for the area and it brought tears to her eyes.

I witnessed people in black robes walk the street.  No matter how people could explain them, they were menacing and carried with them a dark demeanor.  I would wave at everyone, even the black robers and mostly got shocked looks in return.  As I prayed freedom from the works of Satan for my street, I didn’t see the black robes anymore.

I only witnessed one gang fight that was brewing as we tried to drive by.  No guns thankfully but baseball bats and broken bottles were held in their hands as they marched toward each other.  A young girl was yelling obscenities at the incoming group, she seemed to be the instigator.  I began praying for peace, the girl shut up and the fight broke apart before it even started, amen.

As I was beginning to see, it looks like we have two choices in life when things get dark- we can be either victims or victors.  I’ve heard that before, but in my own journey from fear for my family to faith in what He was guiding me to do, living in fear was just too hard and oppressive but trusting Him and His Holy Spirit brought me life and power.  Fear would have kept me inside with no sleep.  Going out revealed a better and greater way.

Freeing the “demoniac” of my neighborhood through the love of Christ was not any goal of mine, but it became one.