I understand not everyone has a story that has led them down a path of destruction, and I’m thankful for those people! I, however, am not that person. My life was a true definition of “mess”. The effects of this bondage left sever damage. I mean, after all, the enemy is out to kill, steal, and destroy (John 10:10) and I tasted just how real that was. This is an excerpt taken from Beth Moore’s book, When Godly People do Ungodly Things, and is a glimpse into what it’s like to be “had” by the devil.
These writing are meant to be filtered through scripture not a replacement of scripture. God’s word is true and the source of all truth.
My name is Had. You may know me, but you may not know my new name. You may have no idea what I’ve been through because I do my best to look the same. I am scared to death of you. I used to be just like you. I once held my head up high without propping it on my hymnal.
I was well respected back then, and I even respected myself. I was wholeheartedly devoted to God, and if the truth be known, somewhere deep inside I was sometimes the slightest bit proud of my devotion. Then I’d repent … because I knew that was wrong. I didn’t want to be wrong. Not ever.
People looked up to me. And life looked good from up there. I felt good about who I was. That was before I was Had. Strangely, I no longer remember my old name. I just remember I liked it. I liked who I was. I wish I could go back. I wish I’d just wake up. But I fear I’m wide awake. I have had a nightmare. And the nightmare was me. Had.
If I could really talk to you and you could really listen, I’d tell you I have no idea how all this happened. Honestly, I was just like you. I didn’t plan to be Had. I didn’t want to be Had. One day I hadn’t, then the next day I had.
Oh, I know now where I went wrong. I have rewound the nightmare a though sand times, stopping it right at the point where I departed the trail of good sense. The way ahead didn’t look wrong. It just looked different. Strange, he didn’t look like the devil in the original scene. But every time I replayed it, he dropped another piece of his masquerade. When he finally took off his mask, he was laughing at me. Nothing seems funny anymore. I will never laugh again as long as he is laughing.
If only I could go back. I would see it this time! I would walk around the trap camouflaged by the brush, and I would not be Had. I would be Proud. Was that my old name? Proud? I can’t even remember who I was anymore. I thought I was Good. Not Proud. But I don’t know anymore.
Would you believe I never heard the trap shut? Too many voices were shouting in my head. I just knew I got stuck somewhere unfamiliar, and soon I didn’t like the scenery anymore. I wanted to go home. My ankle didn’t even hurt at first. Not until the infection set in. Then I thought I would die…
The infection is gone. He (God) put something on it and cleaned it up instantly. As he inspected my shattered ankle, I kept waiting for Him to say, “You deserved this, you know. You’ve been Had.” Because I did and I know and I have. He hasn’t said it yet. I don’t know whether He will or not. I don’t know how much to trust Him yet. I’ve never know Him from this side. My leg still hurts. God says it will heal with time. But I fear I will always walk with a limp.
You see, I wrestled with the devil and he gave me a new name. Had.
*This is not the ending of this story, or yours.