Delivered from Satanism, Witchcraft and Buddhism

A testimony from Lynne at
Lynlaine@aol.com

The home I grew up in was very chaotic. All my life I just wanted a family, a safe place to belong and be loved. My dad often abandoned the family leaving my Mom to raise three daughters. When he was home I was constantly being physically abused as well as emotionally, mentally and sexually abused.

Our religion was Buddhism and the church was a very big part of our lives. This religion was all I knew growing up. It was taught that Jesus was just a man who lived a long time ago and Christian were lost people living by a lot of rules. As a young girl, I was very shy and timid, and the church had a mind set to make a leader out of me.

In my early teenage years, I became intrigued with the occult. I started reading ooks and buying ingredients to cast spells. I found power in the occult, and most importantly, I found a place to belong. For the first time in my life I was in control. Then at age 15 I made a decision to give my life and will to Satan. From that moment, my life made a downward spiral. Satan fed my ego and gave me strength, all the while, he was sucking the life out of me. I forfeited everything good about me.... all morals, values and beliefs. While still participating in Buddhist activities, I secretly worshipped demons and Lucifer.

I practiced black magic and later white magic (I thought it was good -- as it was not in the name of Satan). I would like to add, especially for the benefit of those who just "dabble" in the occult, no matter how minute your dabbling might be, when you open the door to the occult you open the door to an evil that only Jesus can shut. When I became an adult I received my own Buddhist altar, at the urging of my mother, and became heavily involved with the new age movement and also became a student of eastern philosophies and doctrines. I was even teaching my daughter about these things. During this whole time no one ever shared the message of Christ with me -- not in all my life. I know this may seem hard to believe but I bare witness to this fact and I hope that anyone that reads this will become a little more aware of how their witnessing does make a difference. Just because you were born in America does not mean you have heard the message.

My life ultimately ended up in a severe state of depression. I was suicidal and was hospitalized twice for severe depression. The group of people I called friends were just users and being around them would suck the life out of you. Depression is like being sucked into a black cloud and you don't have the energy or will to even care if you get out or get help. I reached a point of refusing all help and medications. I finally reached a point of becoming fully convinced that I had already lived my life, died and was in hell. This was hell. Suicide attempts failed and reinforced my beliefs that I could not die because I was already dead.

One Monday morning a co-worker approached me. He was an Army Colonel and we called him Murph. He said that he thought about Sara, my daughter, and me over the weekend.

"Oh???" I said, rather surprised and suspicious.

"Yes," he said, "I was in church and the two of you came to my mind and I just want you to know that the Lord has placed a heavy burden in my heart for both of you and I want you to know that I'm praying for both of you."

I was on my second marriage that was on-again/off-again and abusive, finally ending with the death of my father-in-law. His name was Chuck and he was dying of cancer. We loved each other and needed each other in our own ways. My husband and I reconciled during this time of crisis and we all moved into my house. Chuck became so special to me and I shared a tenderness with him that I never knew with my own father. One night I was talking to him about dying and he said he wasn't afraid because he was going to heaven. We held hands and as he dozed off I cried and for the first time I prayed to God.

"God, I don't know if you can hear me from hell, but if you can, please hear me and answer my prayer. I don't believe in you but I know Chuck does. And I know I deserve to be here but Chuck doesn't belong here. Please heal him or bring him home to You. No one should ever suffer like this."

About 36 hours later Chuck died in my home. After they removed his body, my husband expressed his deep appreciation for my help and then informed me that he was ready to finalize our divorce.

My whole world fell apart. I would sit in the dark in a corner of my bathroom. I would curl up in a fetal position, hold my head, pull my hair, and cry out in agony.... many times I would cry out what I call the silent scream. That's a scream so loud that is internal. The torment was beyond anything imaginable. I would walk through the house screaming at Chuck's God.

"GOD, get me out of here! I don't want to be here anymore! You took Chuck when I asked you, so I KNOW you hear me! Get me out of here!"

My daughter would just watch me in numbness. Her face became like stone and she walked with her head down, burying her emotions deep inside.

One night I was flipping through the television channels in my room. I ran across a Christian station and began to watch even though I could not comprehend the things they were saying and I couldn't hear much because of the loud noise in my head. In some small way, it brought a sense of comfort just to have it on. Gradually, I began to sit in front of the television. I had no idea of what they were talking about since I had never been around Christianity but I began to want to know the person of Jesus they kept talking
about.

Upon returning to work after a leave of absence, Murph called me into his office. It has been two and a half years since he told me he was praying for me. He never mentioned anything to me bout this since that time. I walked into his office and he shut the door. He walked back to his desk, sat down and began to sob.

I remember him telling me, "Linda, Jesus loves you so much. I have not stopped praying for you since the time I told you that the Lord had placed a burden in my heart for you two. He has such a good life planned for you and wants so much for you to just believe in Him. Please, please trust Him."

I was shocked. No one ever told me anything like this before. (The closest thing I guess would be a neighbor that constantly told us we were going to hell, but never shared "why" we were going to hell or the plan of salvation.) I think I was more moved by his tears and sincerity. No one ever cried for me before. He later mentioned Christian television and asked if I would maybe just watch. I very arrogantly told him I already was watching. Very soon after this Murph moved to Alabama.

I continued watching these Christian programs for about three months and all I really remember is that they kept talking about Jesus and the wonderful things He has done and continues to do this very day. I wanted so much to have this "faith" that they kept talking a bout. Faith that Jesus could heal my mind.
Every time anyone would say the sinner's prayer I would cry and pray. I just wanted to know this Jesus. I prayed this prayer every day but just felt myself sinking lower and lower.

One night, as I st

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