Can you imagine being saved, bought with the blood of Jesus, and this purchased temple has become a nest of Satan, and you opened the door. The dear Spirit of God is weeping and Satan is laughing, making a mockery of the things of God. You gave him a place in your life. Repentance is not just being broken over your sin, it is being broken from your sin.
The Bible says put it away, be done with it. Even after you repent, the devil is not going to walk out. After repentance there must be resistance. But you can never take it back until you take away his legal authority. If there is sin in your life, every area where there is unconfessed sin is legal ground for Satan. Until you confess it and come for cleansing, Satan has every right to set up camp there.
Go in there with a power of attorney, which is the name of Jesus, then take the blood of Jesus Christ as your authority, and you can say to him in no uncertain terms:. Devil, you have no more right, you have no more legal authority. I bring Jesus Christ against you.
- The Night I Met Satan.
- Questions to Answer.
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- Di mercoledì (Italian Edition)?
You have no right, you have no authority. This body of mine is the temple of the Holy Spirit of God. The Bible says he will flee from you. But if you try to resist the devil with unconfessed sin in your life, he will laugh in your face. You have a choice; you can grieve the Spirit of God and be filled with the devil or you can put the devil out and be filled with the Spirit of God. Take those three steps, repentance, resistance and renewal.
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Love Worth Finding Adrian Rogers. Follow Donate. Listen Archives Podcast Watch on Lightsource. Contact Sermons Devotionals Articles Cancel. Free Resources. Love Worth Finding Episode Reminder Get a sneak-peek into each new show plus daily featured articles, delivered straight to your inbox! Love Worth Finding Unchanging truths from Scripture to apply to your changing life.
Sign Up. In addition to your newsletter s , you will receive email updates and special offers from Oneplace. This happens primarily through efforts in publishing and broadcasting biblical truth. Love Worth Finding began in , as a response to several requests for tapes of messages by pastor and Bible teacher Adrian Rogers. He relates that "soon the requests began to grow to the point that we knew God was leading us into a wider ministry. Rogers' pulpit ministry Love Worth Finding provided that role and continues today.
Rogers stated, "I believe God wants us to proclaim the message of salvation in the power of the Holy Spirit by every means possible. No, God wants us to continue to proclaim the message of salvation. The messenger may be gone, but the message must continue.
Can Satan Read Our Minds and Know Our Thoughts?
Millions still have not heard the precious name of Jesus or know His redeeming grace. So our race is not over. We must still run—until Jesus comes. Our prayer is that you will join with us in running the race and in broadcasting the Good News that Jesus Christ is truly the greatest Love worth finding. About Adrian Rogers Known for his evangelistic zeal and uncompromising commitment to the Word of God, Adrian Rogers was one of the greatest preachers, respected Bible teachers, and Christian leaders of our time.
For over fifty years, he consistently presented the Good News of Jesus Christ with strong conviction, compassion,and integrity. He was a devoted family man — husband to his childhood sweetheart Joyce, father to four children, grandfather to nine, and great-grandfather to six. Of all his accomplishments, Dr. She needed to be more loving, she needed to be kind, she needed to be… just like the second daughter. It became exhausting and infuriating but there was one thing she did look forward to — when she was ready, when she was perfect enough — then the second son would love her…she would finally be loved.
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Then the day finally came. He was beyond angry, he called her an animal, stupid, ugly, worthless… he spit in her face. He said he loved the second daughter and that he would never love anyone but her. But the second daughter was to be with the first son… the son also loved her and the mother said that this was how it was to be. The second son flew into a rage and said that he would rather die than be with the first daughter. But there was no death there… there was no getting away, not really.
He did his best though and he fled. The first son and the second daughter…they blamed the first.
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And she believed them. She was heartbroken and weary.
She found a tree and she sat beneath it and closed her eyes. Part of her died there in her misery and it never came back. She thought that maybe she would be able to will herself to not exist anymore, if she tried hard enough but it never worked. She used to hold herself back but not anymore. She snapped.
It was her own fault for coming back; just to bully her one more time. The little bitch could see that she was miserable, that she was losing her mind but she still prodded and poked at her. She whispered her arrogant lies into her ear — she even tempted the son to come and join, which he did and that was enough to finally finish the first daughter off. The light once in her died underneath that tree — and the son and daughter knew that something was different.
There was a new madness in her eyes, there was bitter hatred in her words but there was also a quickness and intelligence to them. They knew now that what they had been doing was wrong. In his mind the son blamed the second daughter and in the mind of the second daughter — she blamed the first. She wrapped herself in her own delusions, telling herself that it was the fault of the fist daughter, simply because she had existed and was there for her to torment. When the first daughter reached the mother, the second had already resorted to what she did best — crying and throwing false accusations.
He even began to cover for his beloved, defending her, supplementing her stories, justifying her…. It hurt but a heart that has just been shattered — it still somewhat feels. She accused the mother, attacked her, and fought everything she said. The mother, in turn, brought in the son and daughter — asking for them to tell the truth. Both of them lied and the mother said she believed them. She stood there, night and day — screaming at the top of her lungs because of the injustice of it all.
The mother knew everything, she would therefore have to know that the son and daughter were lying. Which meant that, in her mind, the mother unjustly hated her so much that she would prefer the lies to the truth. Of course they could hear the screaming, everything the fist daughter would say was audible to anyone who would listen. It was okay at first, she was just a nuisance — something that would eventually give up and go away.
But then some started to believe her screams…they could see the truth in everything she was saying because they were also experiencing the same prejudice. Even the second son heard her, bringing him back. Soon, enough of the children believed her and there was a revolt. There was hope for the first daughter — not that anything would change because she had already seen how wicked the mother could be — no, there was hope that she would finally get what she wanted… to not exist. She thought that if she created enough of a problem then the mother would have no other choice than to get rid of her.
This idea made her fight even harder. The son stepped up to oppose her, he forgot about his own sins against her — he simply ignored the truth in everything she said. In the end, he won. He held the majority and the majority always wins in a vote. But he still needed to get rid of the first daughter, she knew too much.
He suggested, with the help of the second daughter, that the first be given what she wanted… but only after a punishment of some kind. She needed to be punished for what she had done. As for those who followed her, those she had grown to actually love and care about — he decreed that they would share in her punishment but that they could return if they so desired But only after they acknowledge him and only him as king. There would be a test — a competition, complete with the most elaborate arena ever constructed.
Those that fought harder in the original war…they would have advantages. There would be rules in this arena, the mother would write them — the point of the game was to follow the rules as best you could. Over time the first son began to see that he had been too strict so… the mother gave him an idea. She told him to go into a arena and share what he had learned and then show his ultimate love in a way that the other children would understand… to die for them.
But a king cannot die, oh no, a king still needs to be strong. So his death was not permanent — he came back. The rules changed as he changed — at first it was about obedience but as he saw how hurt the other children were, he began to have more compassion on them. He learned that love was more important than obedience and that love is needed to truly make a flower grow.
She broke off from her story and suddenly began to laugh manically. It startled me because before that I had been entranced by what she was telling me. It sounded like the insane ramblings of a madwoman but somehow I knew that there was truth in everything she was saying. It was like I was remembering something from long again and had just now recalled it with her help. I knew it was the meaning for this existence.
She stopped laughing a little and looked at me again. This time there really were tears in her eyes as she spoke. Do you want to know what the first son was fighting for? The son — he believed that it was right to hurt them. He said that children should be obedient and if not, then they were better off not existing. As for the punishment of Satan and the other children.
Who is to blame for all the evil in the world? What story would be complete without a bad guy? If a mother is drowning and torturing her children but still desires for them to love her — doesn't she say that it is someone else doing it? Let me ask you something. In all the books, all the religions, all the movies — demons are always portrayed as evil. How did they come to be that way?
If you have a bunch of spiritual corpses laying about, why not string them up as puppets and continue the war you had already been fighting. You labeled us evil, so she made us evil. You blamed us for all the trouble, so we became to blame. Now, you see why we were so willing to die for what we died for. Now you understand the screams of the madwoman. I could feel my gut begin to twist and I felt like vomiting. I had been a devout Christian all my life and everything she was saying should have seemed blasphemous but, once again, I knew it was true.
I resonated with my very soul. This time, when you read it, I want you to read it from the perspective that it has already happened. The Anti-Chirst, the one that people live in such terror of — the one they anticipate…he already came…and you followed him into hell. You persecuted them, spiritually tortured them, and then damned them — because the Anti-Christ promised you glory. I felt like falling to my knees — felt like screaming — I felt like begging for forgiveness but whatever had hold of me just made me stand there and silently suffer in the influx of emotion I was feeling.
I just wanted it to end. I wanted, more than ever, to just get away from her but I knew I had to ask one last thing. At that she smirked, a sick sort of twisted smirk that darkened her features and took away the innocent look that usually graced her face. The mother purposely drove me mad so I would rebel. She opposed me and allowed her son to threaten death to make it all more realistic. She wanted to see who would be willing to follow me into the abyss because those that did, truly believed in what they were fighting for.
I envy them…because I am still…only a tool. Everything she did to me, has done to me, is still doing to me… are things she wanted to do. Her voice was fading and she looked sadly at the wall across from her. I never really thought about it till then — was she actually looking at something? I used to feel sympathy for him, as absurd as it is. I used to care that seeing me caused him such great pain. Till I realized that that pain was — just his pride.
I have to watch him and he has to watch me. Like I said, I was a fool and still felt sympathy for him…even after what he did. I want to sit down somewhere and just disappear. If her poor precious son has to sit in some kind of punishment, then so must I. What do you do when a god hates you so much?
I could try committing suicide but I would just be born again and it would happen again. The mother promised me that you would believe me. Not that it matters, I would have to stay anyway. Unwillingly my feet began to shuffle forward, just enough that I would be able to look around the corner and see what she was starting at.
There, in the corner, hidden from view by the other wall, was a hunched figure. He looked like those pictures of Jesus that you always see but he was warped and twisted — his features pulled back into a disfigured and silent scream — his limbs and neck were bent at strange angles and they were longer than they should have been. I got the feeling that this thing wanted to charge at me, to harm me but it was being held still.
It was like her voice broke the ropes that were binding me and I fled the room. I can still see that frail woman sitting in her room — doomed to wait for that thing to… repent, I guess. I want to help her, am driven to help her. I like to take real stories and I like to make them into creepypasta. A friend of mine told me this story, about five years ago.
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He really was a nurse at a mental institution but he later became a teacher — something I never understood. One day, over drinks, I asked him why he changed professions like that. He had thrown years of college out the window for seemingly no reason at all. Not only that but the detail of which I was able to recall his story in was…weird. It bothered me so much that I put off posting it and I called my friend.
Then, he told me more about why he had actually quit. He said that, entering that building again would be too much for him. He believed her story and to this day he believes we all live in some form of hell — he said that the people in the institution must have it far worse than anyone. He said that when he thought about them, all he could think about was some god silently torturing them. To hear their screams, even once more, would be too much for him. There was a long pause as we talked and I could tell there was something else he wanted to say.
I urged him to say it and he finally did. His voice was so small and it sounds broken, like he was about to cry. Yet, I also feel like I should write it. In a way I feel the same attachment to that girl…. I know this was a lot to read but…now I want to take even more of your time. Think about what you just read — think about her story again. Some part of you will feel that it could be true. Just remove any belief system you cling to, any doubts…and just think about it.
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After talking to him, I did remove some parts of the story. Sign In Don't have an account? Start a Wiki. It drove the first daughter further into insanity. Other children were born, thousands and then millions. And so it started.