You do not really have much say in which service has been chosen for you on the other side. That was certainly the case for me. I never imagined that one day I would serve as a healer and exorcist at a church in London. I never charged anything for my service but accepted donations for the church. When my calling to be an exorcist came, I was completely unprepared and had never even considered it. I was attending to a lady who, I was told, needed healing when I encountered my first case of an attachment.
Attachments are entities that anchor themselves into people’s lives, usually at a parasitic level, though sometimes with far more serious consequences. That first experience rattled me. I was frightened, but somehow, I managed to stay composed and deal with the situation. I could not let down the family who had asked for my help, so I prayed and was guided on how to sever the link.
Later, I learned from an older and more experienced friend who was both a psychotherapist and deeply spiritual that my path was beginning to unfold. She told me that the other side chooses carefully when it comes to service at this level. She was excited and congratulated me, but I was terrified.
I also spoke with a good friend who was a fellow believer. When I shared my experience, he, too, congratulated me on being chosen for the task. I told him of my fear, and he reminded me of the Christians who faced lions in the arena. They never lost their faith and died with honour.
“Just do the sign of the cross, Garo, and all will be fine,” he said.
“But I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been taught how to deal with such things.”
“Do you think the dark side plays by any rules? There is nothing to learn except to hold on to your faith. God will help you when you help others.”
Word spread quickly, and people from all over England and even abroad began coming to see me at the church. Somehow, I found the strength and faith to deal with these situations. They were never easy, and I suffered physically, mentally, and emotionally. Yet every person who came to the church left healed.
I found myself dealing with curses, spells, black magic, attachments, and even cases of possession. Over time, I learned more and began to recognise both my limitations and the weaknesses in the intrusive energies. My confidence in my faith grew stronger. I trusted the blessed ones to help and protect me, and they did.
As the years went by, I faced increasingly complex cases. I remember one day when a young woman came for help. She was very disturbed, and as soon as I began the process, she screamed in a deep, male voice. It was not an imitation. The voice belonged to someone else entirely. Those present in the church ran out in fear. My heart raced, but I hid my fear behind a brave face and confronted whatever it was.
The process was intense. I wanted to retreat, but I knew that was not an option. I persevered. At one point, I was physically attacked with incredible strength. It took another member of my team to restrain her. Then came the threat to my life. The voice said it wanted to kill me, and I replied, “You’ll have to take your turn for that, there’s a long queue.”
My faith and the sense of serving a greater good kept me going. I was also at a stage in my life when I no longer cared much about my own safety, which may have helped. I continued in this service for several years before my daughter was born. When she arrived, I felt vulnerable for the first time. I had never feared for myself, but I did fear retribution that could harm her.
Even so, I cannot turn my back on those who need help. Although I still feel anxious at times, my faith is stronger than ever. When duty calls, I return to service.
