Speak of the Devil

by Lacha M. Scott

Genres: African American; African American Christian

Synopsis

Serena Sampson has traveled the world with the gift of prophetic healing, deliverance, and the sword of the Spirit in her hands. She claims victory when she is used by God to set women free from all types of bondage. The world reveres her as a powerhouse of a preacher and a woman of God whose faith is on fire. Women flock to conferences whenever she is in their city. Serena has been molded and shaped for ministry of such magnitude in her mother's church;however, they seem to be two totally different vessels that God uses to reach His people. Desiring to go to the next level in her ministry, Serena feels that she needs no one. She casts aside relationships that require time and effort, preferring to focus on the thousands of strangers she feels need her. Ministry becomes her life, but when she is blindsided by trials and tribulations of her own, she will need to learn hard lessons about forgiveness and family.

Release date: January 1, 2015

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Applause erupted from the congregation throughout the Atlanta Georgia Dome as Serena Sampson worked her way in and out of the throngs of screaming women. It was evident that the ladies were seeking something from God. Serena knew that her ministry was to preach and minister to those who were broken and wounded. She encouraged women to remain steadfast instead of throwing in the towel by walking away from God. Then there were those who were there looking for the weakest link because they weren’t there on God’s assignment, but the devil’s.

“Women of purpose, God sent me here to give you a personal message. God said don’t faint in the process because He ain’t through with you yet. I know you are going through a lot and have endured long days and weary nights. God has seen your tears because of wayward children, a no-good, low-down man, folks talkin’ ’boutcha on your job, and mockers laughing behind your backs.” Serena drew in a deep breath and exhaled before continuing.

“Truth be told, you thought you could trust your best friend, but she turned out to have switched teams. Well, glory be to God that you made it over the threshold to your breakthrough, to your deliverance, to your freedom, to restored minds, and one mo’ thing: you’re about to get your happy back.” Serena’s eyes swept the crowd in awe of God as the anointing from heaven fell heavily on the women’s backs. It was evident by the bent knees and the war cries that came from many as Serena’s prophecy dripped like honey, a salve, or even as some would say, a healing balm.

Serena lowered the microphone from her mouth and stood in the midst of the unrestrained worship taking place, while her armor bearers were strategically aligned at arm’s length of her. Their stance let the crowd know that they were in warfare mode, ready to be of assistance. Careful not to quench the spirit, they remained quietly and watchful in position. The Holy Spirit was free to have His way as it was clearly His service that they were just invited to attend.

Serena was grateful and humbled that God had moved on hearts all over the world. The conference was even being televised and millions were seeking healing, deliverance, and empowerment from their struggles. Each year, the conference goers increased by leaps and bounds.

Sounds of praise caressed Serena’s ears, but she wasn’t fooled for one moment. In spite of all of the running, jumping, dancing, and crying women, many were slain in the Spirit. There was no doubt that God was ministering to the women, but there were also plenty of women there playing Russian roulette with God. They deceived themselves, trying to make everyone else believe that they were true worshippers. Serena was on guard and knew a fake when she saw one. God wouldn’t leave her blind about the snakes trying to suck the life out of those who wanted to be free.

The Atlanta Georgia Dome was so huge that when the praises went up, they transcended the ceilings and continued to go straight to heaven. Serena wanted to believe that God was pleased with the praises. She felt in her spirit that all was not well and knew it was her responsibility to call out anything unlike God. This was the only way true deliverance would be attainable. The Word had gone forth and yokes were being broken, but Serena knew that she had to bind the devils cloaked in sheep’s clothing. God revealed that their agenda was different than the one set for the house during this hour.

Serena drew the microphone back up to her mouth. “My question to you today is, who’s willing to take the mask off in order to receive your breakthrough?” Serena waited for a response and when only a few called out that they would be the one, she continued. “You are seeking something supernatural from God; however, you refuse to fully come clean with Him. God knows you and is aware of your weaknesses. You may believe that you have deceived many here with your hollow praise and your fake worship. I caution you that God cannot be mocked.”

Loud cries diminished to small whimpers as amens rang out from the crowd. Those who weren’t laid out fell to their knees in prayer or stretched out wherever they could find space. The hard chairs were in disarray as they were knocked out of the way by those slain in the Spirit. Ladies dressed in white were assigned to be catchers to break the ladies’ fall if they went out as a result of Serena laying hands on them.

An ungodly sound caught Serena’s inner ear and her head followed the sound. If one weren’t sensitive to the Spirit, they would have mistaken the sound for spiritual tongues. It was a counterfeit, demonic force masquerading like a pure praise unto God. That spirit had to be stopped before it undermined the reason the conference was being held. Serena didn’t think twice as she moved toward the woman who was loud and out of order. As if on cue two armor bearers flanked Serena’s side, two were right behind them and two walked in front of her sideways.

Microphone in hand, Serena spoke to the atmosphere and began to speak. “Satan, you may as well take your bag of tricks someplace else because your potions, witchcraft, and uttering won’t work here. I see you slithering and winding your way into the lives of these women. God’s chosen, you have used all in your arsenal to destroy them. I bind up every work and put every demon, imp, and witch on notice right now. You have no power here.” She continued her trek through the throngs of women. Many were moving out of the way as she approached them.

Under the power of the anointing, women fell like flies as Serena walked by with authority, and the power of God in her humbled them. Serena didn’t stop until she reached the back corner of the dome. The musicians played softly due to the fact that many were still in worship mode. The woman continued to screech in a high-pitched voice. The armor bearers and intercessors surrounded their woman of God as she handed the microphone to her head armor bearer and niece, Amina Sampson. Amina used her free hand to pour some praying oil into Serena’s hands.

“Bring her to me,” Serena commanded, which caused the armor bearers and intercessors to be on guard. She knew that there would be a battle in order to get the young woman set free from her inner demons.

The woman’s countenance was very pale and she had a wild look in her eyes. The evil spirit had caused her to thrash about and even cursed when it was found out. “What do you want with me?” the demon-possessed woman questioned Serena. The demonic spirit spoke through the woman and began to hiss like a serpent.

The dome grew quiet. Those close enough to see what was happening jumped to action. Hands went up in the air and some pointed toward the direction Serena was standing. Prayers filled the air as the prophet began to cast the demon out of the woman. Although the monitors were supposed to stay on Serena, they were fixed on the musicians. Worship music played throughout the dome and many were on one accord. The atmosphere that started out being replete with heaviness had now been broken and the fallow ground remained. Amina knew her role well and she held the microphone up to Serena’s lips as she began to minister. Serena felt that it was important to make a show of this demon so that others would be able to witness the power of God in their midst. “Satan, I bind you up in the matchless name of Jesus. I command that you release this woman under the authority of Christ Jesus. You have no power over her,” Serena declared.

The woman began to buck like a bull. However, Serena knew that the evil spirit was trying to destroy the lady. Serena remained focused and continued to bind every spirit contrary to the spirit of God.

“Argh, help me,” the lady cried out. The throaty voice that rose up in her took a back seat to her desperate cries.

“Woman of God, you need to repent. God has revealed to me that you have been operating in a spirit of witchcraft,” said Serena.

The lights dimmed to the others, but Serena acknowledged the very existence of God and let Him use her mouth to spring forth rivers of living water. A haze draped over the altar section of the platform and Serena took it as an indication of His pleasure. Instead of speaking to the crowd, Serena bowed her head and closed her eyes as the Lord ministered to her.

The musicians played “Song of Strength” and as if on cue, anointed praise and mime dancers began to minister. The music was slow and the keyboardist played with grace. Serena moved back to give room for the worshippers, and her armor bearers covered her as she bowed in submission to God in prayer. Seven warriors stood alongside Serena watching, while some prayed in the Spirit. The intercessors closed their eyes and prayed for their leader as she poured out, and the men kept their eyes open for spiritual and physical protection.

Amina handed Serena a glass of colored drink. Serena’s drink of choice after preaching was Gatorade. She turned the goblet up to her mouth and let the cool liquid hit the back of her throat, gliding down her throat and quenching her thirst.

Once the dance ministry exited, Serena felt refreshed and she reached out for her handkerchief. The pure satin piece matched her black and gold three-piece suit. She wiped the perspiration from her face and kicked off her four-inch heels that had become cumbersome. Serena didn’t need to be tied down for the next transition God would move them into. She was more than ready to expose the enemy in attempt to get the women set free. Serena passed the microphone to Amina as her eyes swept over the crowd. She didn’t move forward until she had made eye contact with a lady who had been weeping loudly. Taking slow steps, Serena hurried over to the lady who seemed to be drowning in despair. She didn’t see Serena and her team approach her. “Get her!” Serena yelled over the worshippers.

The intercessors sprang into action and grabbed the lady gently by her forearms. The woman began crying loudly with a deep voice. Serena was prepared to deal with the demonic influence over this woman’s life.

Serena addressed the lady. “I see witches and Ouija boards.”

“Argh sssss.” The woman bucked and began chanting in worship to Satan. Two more intercessors moved into position to encompass the wild woman who was now cursing at the prophet.

“What do you want with us?” the raspy voice inquired.

“I bind you in Jesus’ name. Satan, you have no power over her. You must pack up your potions and go. I cast you out under the authority of the power in me in Christ Jesus according to my faith.” Serena reached for the oil that Amina was holding and nearly poured the whole bottle into her hands. Shoving the anointing oil back at Amina, Serena motioned for the men of valor to hold the woman upright.

Whimpers could be heard from the lady who had stopped jerking and bouncing around. “Please help me,” she begged.

Serena felt the lights find her in the crowd, and they were in the spotlight. She was glad that the lady wanted help and to be free because if that were not the case, Serena didn’t need to waste her time. “Are you ready to be free of the demonic influence you have been dabbling in?” Serena asked.

“I don’t mess around with that stuff. I don’t know how,” the unknown lady said.

“Listen to me. If you weren’t involved with practicing witchcraft, God wouldn’t have shown it to me. God wants to set you free so you can live for Him. I can’t make you come out of sin; you have to want it. You have to denounce sin and repent to God for opening the door to witchcraft. Do you want to be free?” Serena waited for a response from the woman as Amina held the microphone up to her mouth.

“I want to be free, but they won’t leave me alone,” the lady cried.

“Do you believe that God is all powerful?”

“Yes.”

“How bad do you want to close the door on self-destruction?”

“Bad! I want to do right and I want the Lord to forgive me.”

“Repeat after me, Father, I’ve sinned against you. Please forgive me for worshipping idol gods. I denounce the workings of the rulers of darkness, principalities, and wickedness in high places. I repent of my sin and close the door on witchcraft and sorcery.”

The woman didn’t open her mouth; instead, she became limp and fell from the grasps of the intercessors and slid to the floor. They got down on the floor surrounding her, praying and calling out demons by name. Serena allowed them to pray with the woman while she instructed those standing near.

“Women of God,” she called into the microphone, “if you have no training in spiritual warfare and are fearful of what you see going on before you, I advise you to leave now. The enemy operates in fear and right now, that ol’ slew foot is afraid. By the authority that God has given me to tread upon serpents and scorpions, he’s coming outta there,” Serena hollered pointing to the woman who still lay on the floor being worked on by the spiritual doctor.

Women who understood what was taking place gathered closer and pointed their hands toward the group on the floor while praying for deliverance. The space was packed tightly and there wasn’t anywhere else for the ladies to go but out into the hallway. Many others who stayed would soon find out if they could handle the magnitude of demonic activity going on.

“Pray, pray in your heavenly language. If you can pray in tongues, do it now and don’t stop. We aren’t leaving this place until this woman is delivered,” Serena declared.

The air seemed to stop moving and humidity set in as the women travailed for the deliverance of the unknown woman in their midst. Serena revisited the second woman, confident that she was ready to receive. Two men of valor pulled the unknown woman up from her prostrate position on the floor and held on to her arms as they guided her into an upright position.

Serena grabbed the woman by the sides of her head and began to prophesy to her. “Can you hear me, baby?”

The young woman only nodded.

“Satan, I command you to release this vessel. She doesn’t belong to you, but to God. I speak peace to her mind and restoration to her body.” The woman was sweaty and her hair stood at its ends; however, she was lucid and faintly smiling.

“Woman of God, I need for you to repeat after me!”

“Yes,” the woman responded, sounding more like herself this time.

“Tell God you’re sorry for opening the door to witchcraft and sorcery.”

“Lord, I’m sorry for practicing witchcraft and sorcery.”

“Ask God to forgive you and let Him know that you are repentant of your actions that brought Him dishonor.”

“Lord, please forgive me for sinning against you. I am sorry for opening the door to those things that dishonored you.” She spoke now with boldness and felt her strength returning. “And Lord, I repent from my disobedience. Please wash me clean.”

“I speak life over you, daughter. Your sins have been forgiven thee. Sin no more.”

The musicians took that as their cue to rev the music up and they played some praise music to give another shift to the atmosphere. Applause, hallelujah shouts, and amens rang out in the sanctuary. The woman began to dance and shout up something. She was happy to be free. She hugged Serena and thanked her.

“Thank you, woman of God. I knew that I needed help, as I had gotten too deep in disobeying God. It became easier and easier to ignore His voice when He spoke. One day I was sitting at the Ouija boards waiting to feel some unction of conviction but it never came. I became afraid. I thank you for allowing God to use you to help me be free once again. He hadn’t left me after all.”

“Praises belong to God and God alone. Just remember what I said to you. Don’t open the door again because next time you may die in that sin.” Serena hugged the woman back and moved down to the front of the dome. She closed out the conference with corporate prayer and asked everyone to stop by her booth to purchase a CD or book she had written on their way out. The benediction went forth and an hour later Serena, along with her team, were whisked away to a waiting limo.

The limousine finally arrived in front of the mini-mansion located smack dab in the middle of Black Horse Run in Northern Durham. Serena’s Twitter page was blowing up with tweets containing all sorts of praise reports and gratitude for the words she had deposited into the spirits of those women who had attended the conference. The smile that appeared on her face as James, the limo driver, pulled into the circular driveway that led up to her house was twofold. One, she was dog tired and she had been holding her bladder for the last two hours. On the flight from Atlanta she had two cups of hot tea with honey and lemon. Instead of going to the restroom after getting to the Raleigh-Durham airport, she declared she could make it home. Serena detested public restrooms and the filth that could be found in there. To make matters worse, she had two additional pints of Gatorade to drink on the way home.

Serena tweeted, Home sweet home and hit SEND. “James, please hurry up and unlock the door. I really need to use the bathroom.”

He hit the unlock button and Serena jumped out of the back of the limousine as quickly as she could, racing Amina to the front door. Serena was glad she had the opportunity to shower and change into a sweat suit before leaving the Marriott in Georgia. She wanted to relax on her way home. “Amina, come on, I have to get inside before I have an accident in this Versace sweat suit. James, you can begin bringing the bags up to the house.” Serena spoke over her shoulder with her head turned to the door.

“Yes, ma’am. You know you really shouldn’t have had so much to drink on the way home. You could have at least allowed me to stop so that you could empty your bladder at some point,” James said.

“I didn’t want anything keeping me away from home longer. I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. Don’t get me wrong, I love the nice hotels with the VIP treatment, however, there is no place like home.”

“Excuse me, Auntie.” Amina sidled up next to Serena, maneuvering around her to open the door. She secretly thanked the motion lights for coming on. The extra lighting helped to get Serena into the house quicker. Amina wouldn’t have to fight with the keys and security system that was pitched right on the other side of the wall. No sooner than the door swung open, Serena bolted toward the nearest bathroom, while Amina punched in the code to the alarm system to squelch the horrendous sound that echoed throughout the house.

Amina sashayed into the living room and flipped light switches on as she went. She was still on high from the mountaintop experience, but thrilled to be home as well. Amina had a habit of walking through the house after each ministry assignment in prayer. She was not new to ministry or the tricks of the enemy.

Amina navigated a clear path around James as he carried luggage into the living room and placed them down. He had learned not to bother Amina as she consecrated the dwelling place of her mentor. She almost chuckled out loud at the thought of the first time James came into the house and inquired of where the bags should be put. She was in the middle of praying. His interruption had broken her concentration and she let him have it. That happened five years ago, and Amina never had to tell him again not to ask about anything until the prayer was done.

Amina watched him out of the corner of her eye as he went in and out of the house with their suitcases. Her attraction to him had been growing the last year or so, but she never let on. She tried focusing on her task, but found it nearly impossible to stay focused while James’s muscles flexed with the rise and fall of his thick arms. Shivers ran up and down her body and goose bumps popped out, making themselves visible. What a man, what a man, she thought. Oh Lord, help me to redirect my focus to prayer. Ugh, he’s fine. Mmph, look at him. Close fade with waves on top, mocha chocolate fine. Right height, just tall enough to have to bend down slightly to kiss me. Abs are tight. He must work out. The brother is saved; or is he? Amina heard a record scratching and snapped out of her daydream.

“Are you okay, Amina? You look perplexed about something.” James was concerned.

“Um, yeah, I was just thinking about you. I mean something. That’s all,” Amina replied.

James was unsure about what had just happened; however, he let the comment slide for the time being. “All right, if you’re sure, then I’ll be on my way. Everything should be here since the trunk is now empty.” He gestured toward the row of bags neatly sitting in the corner of the room.

“Okay, let me give you the check.” Amina was grateful for the opportunity to turn away and get herself together before facing James again. She retrieved the cashier’s check for James’s services and stood with her back to him for a moment before turning around.

“Amina, are you sure that you’re okay?” James quietly walked into her personal space.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you approach.” Amina turned around and nearly bumped into James.

She jumped, startled, feeling the heat of her breath bounce off of his chest and hit her in the face.

“I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all. Here’s your check.” Amina moved away slightly and stretched her arm forward with an envelope in her hand.

“Okay, I understand. It’s been a long three days for you gals. Thanks for this.” James played along. He popped the check against his palm and smiled at Amina. Something was off because Amina’s hand was shaking. Not sure what was going on, James decided not to dwell on it. “Well, I’d better get going. I will see you real soon,” he said.

“Thanks for everything, James. You know, for being available and considerate of our needs. I hope you get home or wherever you are headed safely.” Amina walked over to the door, ready for James to leave. She couldn’t let on what she was really feeling because she wasn’t sure herself.

“Anytime. I love driving you ladies around. It’s good for my résumé and I also like being in your company. I tell ya, it gets crazy sometimes since I drive for rappers and ballplayers also. It blesses me to be in the company of likeminded individuals who don’t mind me listening to my gospel jams. Well, let me get on outta here. Good night, Amina.” James winked at her and walked out.

Serena exhaled as she stood in front of the mirror once she had emptied her bladder. “Oh, what a relief it is,” she said to the reflection staring back at her in the mirror. She held on to the caramel-stained marble countertop and studied her neck. She turned from side to side in order to see the structure and coloring of her skin around her throat. She rubbed her neck, checking for lumps or abnormalities. Serena fretted over what could have been. Even though she hadn’t found anything out of order, her only consolation was that her face looked normal. . .