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Phillip Cowlie sat on the edge of chair looking pale and terrified. Perspiration beaded on his forehead and he trembled as he spoke. “It happened again last night,…..” He began, his voice shaking. “……they came to me at the motel,… only they didn’t take me that time. Pastor Bob,….what am I going to do?”
“I’m sure you saw something….,” The Pastor spoke supportively.“but I really believe fear projected what you saw.” He spoke calmly. “There are just no space aliens.”
“But they plague me every night Pastor….I’m afraid to go to bed! Last night there were four grays in my room.” Phil shook his head in shame. “I know you’re tired of seeing me about this same thing,… I thought by going to the motel last night I’d be safe,….bu-but they won’t leave me alone!”
“Okay,…..” The pastor conceded. “….tell you what I’ll do Phil,….just let me stop home and pick up a few things and I’ll stay with you at the motel tonight. We’ve got to get a handle on these night terrors.”
Pastor Bob drove home, explained the situation to his wife and picked up an over-night bag with a few essentials, then headed out toward Highlander Motel.
The sunset broadcasted a spectacular orange hue across the western sky. Pastor Bob thought back to similar evenings of his youth back in Maine. For the most part they were pleasant memories, until he recalled those certain few nights, when he too was horrified by dreams so real, so menacing, that they haunted him into adulthood. It was his faith in Christ that freed him from night terrors, and he was determined Phil should know that same peace.
At the motel, Bob made up a bed for himself on the room’s sofa. The two talked and prayed till after eleven, then turned in for the night.
It was 3:23 AM by the illuminated clock when Pastor Bob was awakened by noises in the room. He saw Phil sitting up, pointing to the foot of his bed. his eyes wide open and a look of terror on his face. Phil was trying to speak, but could only mouth incoherent sounds.
The pastor immediately flipped on the light switch, but there was no response. He observed shadows near the foot of Phil’s bed, but the slight illumination from outside the window failed to reveal distinguishable features. His first thought was that Phil was dreaming, however; when Bob got to his side, Phil grabbed his hand responding to his presence. He knew that Phil was awake and terrified, just unable to speak a single word.
Pastor Bob mentally prayed seeking God’s guidance and protection, then
was motivated to call out: “Unclean spirit!…..as a son of God, in the name and authority of JESUS CHRIST…..I command you to loose the tongue of this child of God!” Immediately, Phil’s voice returned.
“Do you see them…..do you see them?!!” He cried out with wide eyes,
pointing to the foot of his bed. “Th-they say they’ll go away if I give
them my soul!”
“Listen to me Phil,….” The pastor took Phil’s face in his hands and turned it toward his own. “……these things have no power over you. They feed on your own fear!” He looked intently into Phil’s terrified eyes. “Jesus gave you power over them,….don’t you give in to their useless threats.”
“They’re saying that they will let me keep my spirit if I just give control of my thoughts and emotions to them….they’re after my soul.”
“Phil,….PHIL!….” Pastor Bob exclaimed. “…..your spirit is now one
with God’s Holy Spirit,….you are His child by the blood of Jesus. These
things can take nothing from you and have no power over you, but YOU must take command of the situation in the name of JESUS!”
Phil felt the power of the Spirit in his being and the truth of God in his
heart. The fear fell away like leaves in an autumn wind and he boldly
shouted out: “In the name of JESUS CHRIST and by the power of His
shed blood, I command you to leave me!”
At that very moment they could hear an eerie moaning sound, and the lights came on in the room. Phil Cowlie suffered no ill affects from that night terror except a bed saturated by perspiration. Finally, he realized the power he had through the name of Jesus, and was never again vexed by night terrors or visitations.
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