His knees began to hurt. But the tape rolled on. So he kept on too.
His shins were parallel with the floor. His back was perpendicular. His knees made direct contact and had been in position on the floor, long enough to drill imaginary holes in it, if they could.
And here dropped low,
he was near enough to his real value,
which was nothing.
zero nil nada.
it was on the ground,
where he could see the
particles of dust,
that he could see himself
so much more clearly.
it was his real
was his real
He was by his bed. So he leaned his arm on the mattress to support it for awhile. His head drooped. His eyes were no longer open. His lips kept moving but no sounds came out.
The tape playing was a sermon on “demons and how to deal with them” by Kenneth Hagin. It was playing on repeat, thanks to the auto reverse cassette player he had borrowed from Sister Adelaide. He knew the stories the American preacher told so well by now. He talked of how a demon entered a pastor’s wife as she stared in the mirror at herself. She eventually left her husband and fell into a life of sin. God had revealed to the prophet this vision of how the wife found herself deceived by demons. The prophet was teaching in obedience to the vision he had had. And Dag loved the teachings so.
He rubbed his hands on his thighs and bent his head toward the floor. He was losing track of time. What was it? Eleven? Twelve midnight?
His spirit stirred him back awake at 2:35am. He had fallen completely asleep but surprisingly he was still in the same position, on his knees by his bed. The audio cassette he had been listening to was still playing. He had thought the batteries would have run out? Well thank God they hadn’t. He began to resume his prayer, being only loud enough to match the audio from the tape player. It was a night for meditative, soul-searching prayer. But not strong cries. His mind flashed back to his church in Korle-Bu medical teaching hospital. His sheep, how he loved them. How he felt strongly and desired that Christ would be formed in them! The small church met in the school canteen, and it was mostly nurses. But they believed in him, and faithfully showed up each Sunday. And for this he was grateful.
“From today, you can teach.” A voice broke through the room and startled him. His heart was pounding. He looked around confused. It had not come from the audio player because it sounded nothing like Kenneth Hagin. He felt a sharp pain in his lower abdomen and he stared hard at the red cassette player, the only electronic device in the room, wondering if power from there had ended up transmitted to him. What was going on? He tried to move, as though to rise up on his feet, and he immediately winced. The pain was excruciating. His body trembled, feeling weakness and even more pain. He had been down kneeling, for hours. Was he paralyzed? He felt himself relax, as he remained in the same position, muttering to himself, speaking in tongues. Then he placed his hands on the floor for support.
“I’ll prove it to you.” The prophet suddenly spoke these words. Dag felt a chill all over him that had nothing to do with room temperature because it was not a cold night. Suhum was wonderfully warm and so different from Accra. He felt at peace here; it was unfortunate he was only visiting for a month. He was visiting on a medical rotation which was part of his school program. But speaking of visiting, had the Lord visited him that night? The experience felt so surreal.
He could not tell. But a manifestation of the visitation would show him how real it was.