A demon walked into the church where I teach piano today.
I had just finished teaching my mother. She is learning "Amazing Grace" (in honor of her great granddaughter, Grace!) and "The Banks of Ohio. She had just left the building. I was sitting down to practice for the church service I am playing tomorrow. One of the men of the church who usually comes in and lights the lamp and prepares the alter, was working. We were chatting amicably.
My cell phone rang. It was my mother. She was warning me about a man she had passed on her way out the door. He had spoke unkindly to her. She was worried because she saw him walk into the church. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a large man enter the sanctuary. A large, smiling man with a big, booming voice. And very dirty clothes.
His smile did not reach his eyes. I felt very uncomfortable. I thanked my mother and hung up. I saw my purse a few feet away. I had mace on my keychain. I watched the man cautiously as I considered grabbing my purse. But I thought a sudden movement might alarm him.
He was big. Like a lumberjack. Not sure why that came into mind. But his tone was mocking. It made my skin crawl.
"Wellll....here are the servants of Christ!" He bellowed.
My friend just smiled and chuckled and continued his work. He is a very pleasant man.
He conversed casually with the demon. I decided to just continue what I had been doing. I sat down and quietly started playing the piano. Soon, my friend left for another room in the building.
The demon followed. I grabbed my purse. Found my keychain with mace and peered out the door. They were having a chat in the room around the corner. Demon was talking loudly. My friend was talking softly, chuckling now and then.
Perhaps I had overreacted, I thought to myself. My mother may have misjudged the man. Maybe he was a member of the congregation?
But my stomach told me otherwise. It was churning.
Soon, he reappeared. He stood on the other side of the pulpit. He called me "Mother". And said he would like to confess. I did not want to hear anymore. His tone was sickening. I really felt like the Devil himself was standing in front of me.
I told him that while I was a Christian, I was not an employee of the church. I was a piano teacher. And he was interrupting my work. He continued talking, misquoting the bible. Saying he could go shoplift from Safeway and then repent. He laughed. It was an ugly laugh.
I told him there was God's law. And there was man's law. And shoplifting was illegal.
But, before he could debate more, which he seemed eager to do. I told him he should confess to God and leave. I had work to do. He still lingered. I pointed to the door.
Then I said sternly, "I can find Pastor A if you would like to speak to someone".
Then, as quick as a wink, he was out the door. He went out the front. There was a group of homeless men who were sitting on the lawn.
Perhaps he was just homeless. Perhaps he was inebriated. And please understand, I am NOT saying all homeless people are dirty, inebriated, or evil. Neither are all dirty, inebriated, evil people homeless.
I maintain that good, bad and many shades in between exist in all groups of people.
Nevertheless, I think this man was the devil. And I am proud to say, I sent him packing!
I don't know where I got the courage. But I knew I had a family of young children due any moment. I went into protective teacher mode.
I spoke with Pastor A later. He said he may have seen this man before. He had been a bit beligerrant last time as well. I told him I wanted to document it and leave a note for the lead pastor just in case he escalated. Pastor A said that was a good idea. And when he left for the day, he locked the front door since I was alone with my students.
I had a good day teaching. I had started out quite tired. Gracie had a doctor appointment yesterday. She had been very sick with a high fever the day before. It turns out she has a pretty severe ear infection. She has not been sleeping well. Her mom is exhausted from her constant nursing and frequent awakenings. I am exhausted from worry. And from holding her on my lap for her one hour nap yesterday. She wanted to be held like a infant. She would cry when I tried to put her down.
She is so much better today. The fever has broken. But the worry left a little hole in my heart. And brought back memories of sleepness nights worrying about my own babies years ago.
Standing up to the devil did seem to energize me. The rest of my day went well.
I got on the bus after work. I was heading to Starbucks for an iced green tea and then this here library to blog before heading home. I need to practice another hour for my church gig tomorrow.
As I got on the bus, I noticed the people's faces. Everyone looked like they had sucked on a lemon. And on all the empty seats, were one or two french fries. And a very dirty, loud man sitting near the front of the bus. He had a McDonald's bag on his lap. He was munching on a hamburger and tossing french fries all around.
And cussing like the devil. I glanced at him as I walked by. He cursed at me and flipped me off.
It was not the same demon as earlier. But he looked evil. And the whole bus seemed afraid. He was spewing profanity. The bus driver told him several times to keep his voice down. The driver himself looked concerned.
I went to the back of the bus where there were no fries on the seat. A young couple sat with a cute little curly headed girl.
"HI!", she squealed, waving at me with her hand pointing towards her.
"Hi!", I smiled back. I asked her parents how old she was.
"She's 17 months", the mom said. "Her favorite word is 'hi'!"
I told them I had an 11 month old granddaughter, Grace.
"Her favorite word is 'gak'!" I said.
We all laughed. I forgot about demons. The little girl laughed, smiled and waved. Soon it was my stop. The cursing french fry demon was gone. I got off the bus and instantly felt a wave of love pass through me.
It really is so much better to focus on the good in this life.
I heard sirens racing west on Powell. I imagine they are heading to the protests downtown. I said a quick prayer that there would not be any violence.
But I know there will be. So many people are attracted to violence. Some do not even know what they are protesting or why they are angry.
It probably makes the devil happy.
I prefer to send the devil packing.
I need to run now and get home to practice.
I will talk to you tomorrow. After my church gig and a good workout at the gym!
Talk to you soon,
Love,
Zita
I had just finished teaching my mother. She is learning "Amazing Grace" (in honor of her great granddaughter, Grace!) and "The Banks of Ohio. She had just left the building. I was sitting down to practice for the church service I am playing tomorrow. One of the men of the church who usually comes in and lights the lamp and prepares the alter, was working. We were chatting amicably.
My cell phone rang. It was my mother. She was warning me about a man she had passed on her way out the door. He had spoke unkindly to her. She was worried because she saw him walk into the church. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a large man enter the sanctuary. A large, smiling man with a big, booming voice. And very dirty clothes.
His smile did not reach his eyes. I felt very uncomfortable. I thanked my mother and hung up. I saw my purse a few feet away. I had mace on my keychain. I watched the man cautiously as I considered grabbing my purse. But I thought a sudden movement might alarm him.
He was big. Like a lumberjack. Not sure why that came into mind. But his tone was mocking. It made my skin crawl.
"Wellll....here are the servants of Christ!" He bellowed.
My friend just smiled and chuckled and continued his work. He is a very pleasant man.
He conversed casually with the demon. I decided to just continue what I had been doing. I sat down and quietly started playing the piano. Soon, my friend left for another room in the building.
The demon followed. I grabbed my purse. Found my keychain with mace and peered out the door. They were having a chat in the room around the corner. Demon was talking loudly. My friend was talking softly, chuckling now and then.
Perhaps I had overreacted, I thought to myself. My mother may have misjudged the man. Maybe he was a member of the congregation?
But my stomach told me otherwise. It was churning.
Soon, he reappeared. He stood on the other side of the pulpit. He called me "Mother". And said he would like to confess. I did not want to hear anymore. His tone was sickening. I really felt like the Devil himself was standing in front of me.
I told him that while I was a Christian, I was not an employee of the church. I was a piano teacher. And he was interrupting my work. He continued talking, misquoting the bible. Saying he could go shoplift from Safeway and then repent. He laughed. It was an ugly laugh.
I told him there was God's law. And there was man's law. And shoplifting was illegal.
But, before he could debate more, which he seemed eager to do. I told him he should confess to God and leave. I had work to do. He still lingered. I pointed to the door.
Then I said sternly, "I can find Pastor A if you would like to speak to someone".
Then, as quick as a wink, he was out the door. He went out the front. There was a group of homeless men who were sitting on the lawn.
Perhaps he was just homeless. Perhaps he was inebriated. And please understand, I am NOT saying all homeless people are dirty, inebriated, or evil. Neither are all dirty, inebriated, evil people homeless.
I maintain that good, bad and many shades in between exist in all groups of people.
Nevertheless, I think this man was the devil. And I am proud to say, I sent him packing!
I don't know where I got the courage. But I knew I had a family of young children due any moment. I went into protective teacher mode.
I spoke with Pastor A later. He said he may have seen this man before. He had been a bit beligerrant last time as well. I told him I wanted to document it and leave a note for the lead pastor just in case he escalated. Pastor A said that was a good idea. And when he left for the day, he locked the front door since I was alone with my students.
I had a good day teaching. I had started out quite tired. Gracie had a doctor appointment yesterday. She had been very sick with a high fever the day before. It turns out she has a pretty severe ear infection. She has not been sleeping well. Her mom is exhausted from her constant nursing and frequent awakenings. I am exhausted from worry. And from holding her on my lap for her one hour nap yesterday. She wanted to be held like a infant. She would cry when I tried to put her down.
She is so much better today. The fever has broken. But the worry left a little hole in my heart. And brought back memories of sleepness nights worrying about my own babies years ago.
Standing up to the devil did seem to energize me. The rest of my day went well.
I got on the bus after work. I was heading to Starbucks for an iced green tea and then this here library to blog before heading home. I need to practice another hour for my church gig tomorrow.
As I got on the bus, I noticed the people's faces. Everyone looked like they had sucked on a lemon. And on all the empty seats, were one or two french fries. And a very dirty, loud man sitting near the front of the bus. He had a McDonald's bag on his lap. He was munching on a hamburger and tossing french fries all around.
And cussing like the devil. I glanced at him as I walked by. He cursed at me and flipped me off.
It was not the same demon as earlier. But he looked evil. And the whole bus seemed afraid. He was spewing profanity. The bus driver told him several times to keep his voice down. The driver himself looked concerned.
I went to the back of the bus where there were no fries on the seat. A young couple sat with a cute little curly headed girl.
"HI!", she squealed, waving at me with her hand pointing towards her.
"Hi!", I smiled back. I asked her parents how old she was.
"She's 17 months", the mom said. "Her favorite word is 'hi'!"
I told them I had an 11 month old granddaughter, Grace.
"Her favorite word is 'gak'!" I said.
We all laughed. I forgot about demons. The little girl laughed, smiled and waved. Soon it was my stop. The cursing french fry demon was gone. I got off the bus and instantly felt a wave of love pass through me.
It really is so much better to focus on the good in this life.
I heard sirens racing west on Powell. I imagine they are heading to the protests downtown. I said a quick prayer that there would not be any violence.
But I know there will be. So many people are attracted to violence. Some do not even know what they are protesting or why they are angry.
It probably makes the devil happy.
I prefer to send the devil packing.
I need to run now and get home to practice.
I will talk to you tomorrow. After my church gig and a good workout at the gym!
Talk to you soon,
Love,
Zita
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