My last witchcraft encounter in Yei

You may not believe in the powers of witchcraft and occultism. I do, and the Bible is certainly not silent on the subject either.

Have you ever wondered how Pharaoh’s magicians turned their staffs into snakes in the presence of Moses? (Exodus 7:10–12)

During one of my mission trips to what is now South Sudan, I had one of the most frightening and unforgettable experiences of my missionary journey, and it happened on the very first night of my arrival.

I was exhausted after the long road journey from Kampala. I unpacked my things, spent some time with a handful of friends and disciples who had come to welcome me, and looked forward to a much-needed night of rest.

The weather was cool that night, and every part of me needed sleep.

But sometime around 1:30a.m., just as I was beginning to doze off, I heard something land heavily on the roof.

My first thought was that it must be a large bird. I knew I wasn’t dreaming.

Instinctively, I reached for my flashlight, only to remember that I had not taken it out of my luggage. Night birds, especially owls, were common around our area, and their annoying sounds could easily steal precious minutes of sleep.

But this felt different.

Whatever had landed above me sounded much bigger.

And something about it felt sinister.

I lay completely still, listening carefully and trying to identify it from the sounds it made.

Then the scuffling began.

Something, or perhaps more than one thing, seemed to be moving violently across the roof. I could hear what sounded like claws scratching against the roofing sheets, accompanied by heavy movements and repeated thumping.

It sounded like a fight.

From the force of the movements, I imagined these were large creatures. In my frightened estimation that night, they sounded heavy enough to weigh perhaps 40 kilograms or more.

The struggle continued for more than fifteen minutes. Though it felt like hours.

I generally live cautiously, but I am rarely given to panic. That night, however, I was terrified.

Then suddenly, whatever was struggling above me seemed to tumble from the roof, with a sound that suggested it slided off the metal sheet sharp ends by force and landed heavily on the ground beside my window.

And the wrestling continued.

Inside the safety of my well-netted bed, I began to pray. I spoke in tongues and quoted every Scripture that came to mind.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped.

Silence.

An eerie, almost unnatural calm settled over the place. The crickets stopped chirping. The silence was like nothing I’ve even experienced all my years.

All I could hear was my heart pounding.

And then I heard a voice.

Clearly.

Audibly.

Words I have never forgotten, “They came for you. They want you, but I have you. Nothing will harm or hurt you here. You are Mine.”

I heard those words repeated five times. I closed my eyes so tightly I felt it hurting me.

What happened after that, I cannot fully explain. I do not remember when or how I eventually fell asleep.

Morning Came.

At dawn, I strang out of my bed and ran straight to the area beside the window where I had heard the creatures fall.

I expected to find something, perhaps a dead animal, a being of sorts, disturbed ground, footprints, scratches, anything that might explain what I had heard during the night.

There was nothing.

No animal.

No creature.

No footprints.

No obvious marks.

Nothing.

I spent longer than usual that morning praising and worshipping the Lord.

For the rest of that week, I lived with a strange mixture of emotions.

At times, I felt like an endangered species needing a government decree to protect me from poachers.

At other times, I felt like an invincible warrior, untouchable until my assignment was finished.

But beneath both feelings, one conviction became stronger—I was not alone.

There is tremendous courage in knowing that somewhere, people are praying for you.

Missionaries and those serving in difficult places should never underestimate the strength and encouragement that come from knowing that brothers, sisters, churches and partners are standing with them in prayer.

But there is something even greater than that, the unfailing promise of the presence, power and protection of Christ.

Our confidence is not that frightening things will never happen. Our confidence is that Jesus remains Lord when they do.

That assurance should not make us reckless. But neither should fear make us retreat from the assignment God has given us.

Jesus said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations … And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. Matthew 28:18–20

Observe the order.

All authority is His.

Therefore, we go.

And as we go, He is with us.

That night in South Sudan, I understood those words in a way I had never understood them before, “They want you, but I have you. You are Mine.”