By: Dan Revoir



The Finger of God in Prison

The heavy metal door clanged as I walked into the small receiving room; standing there until the next huge barred door would open, giving access to the visitor's room. The whole process involves sitting in the waiting room for an hour, signing in when they call your number, and having your hand marked with an invisible ink that shows up under an infrared lamp. As you step through the aforementioned door you are frisked. You must take off your shoes, which are searched for contraband. You must show the bottom of your socks. Then they carefully check your mouth for drugs, followed by the mandatory walk through the metal detector. Being a pastor does not change the process. Everyone goes through the same routine. For me, the slamming of the door produces apprehension and a sense of losing one's identity. I can only imagine the life of a prisoner, knowing that you will not leave this hostile environment until you have served your term according to law. God's Word reminds us: 

Hebrews 13:3: 'Remember them that are in bounds, as bound with them; and them who suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body.'

I take this verse to heart and have visited several prisons. You might say it makes me uncomfortable. Yes, me too. But it is an imperative command. God's Word does not disqualify us by our comfort level.

The prisoner is escorted into the visiting room which holds about 50 or 60 people. And you are seated by an assigned number. The guards on duty tell you where to sit.

Most people visiting a prisoner find it difficult to make conversation unless they are a family member. I started asking questions like:

'How is the food?' (I guess that is stupid.)

'Do you work?'

'Do you like your job?'

'Can you choose the television programs you watch?'

'Do you have your own television?'

You feel in your mind it must be about time to go home but you have only been visiting for 12 minutes which seems like 12 hours!

This evening was different. Being a therapist, I was alerted to body language as we talked. He was making good eye contact, not staring out in space. And he smiled and seemed to have a good sense of humor. He gesticulated as he spoke and revealed a good thinking pattern. His arm and shoulder muscles seemed well formed; I surmised that he must have been working out. This man seemed to have made the adjustment to his harsh world. And yet I had a sense that something was troubling him very deeply.

It was time to start prying into his emotions. A silent prayer went up to my Father for guidance.

'How are you doing emotionally?'

'Actually I have been seeing a therapist.'

'What seems to be the problem?'

'I keep hearing three voices.'

'What do they say to you?'

'That they are going to kill me.'

'Are you afraid of the violent inmates?'

'Yes, everyone here is afraid, that is why there are gangs in prison.'

'Is that for protection from gang members?'



So fear would not be an unusual emotion in a prison but I could sense this fear was much deeper.

'What does your therapist say?'

'That I am schizophrenic and he prescribed medication.'

I observed that he did not display the any signs of being schizophrenic.

'Would you mind if I prayed by myself?'

'No, go ahead.'

So I bowed my head and started praying this prayer.

'Lord God, I already know what is wrong with this man. But Father, I don't know what you want me to do. The words came mid-sentence; the voice of God spoke 'You know why you are here!' So I continued my prayer. 'Father God, I ask you to search me and try the reins of my heart. Lord God, if there is anything in my life that will hinder your precious Holy Spirit then please forgive me. Father, I claim all the authority of your Word. I ask you to please put a wall around us so that no one can interfere. Lord God, this is for your glory. I pray in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, amen.'

Turning back to the man I admonished, 'Please do not talk, just listen.'

'I sense there is an unclean spirit present and I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to tell me your name.'The demon spoke in an unearthly voice saying, 'My name is Nimrod.'

'Why have you entered this man?'

Again he spoke, 'Because he wanted me to.'

'I command you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ leave him and do not return!'

There was silence and the man's head slumped to his chest. After a few seconds he lifted his head and said, 'Dan, what is happening?'

I motioned him to silence.

'He had stated that he was hearing three voices and I sensed there was another unclean spirit present,'' I command you, in the name of Jesus Christ to tell me your name!'

'My name is Belial,' intoned the unreal voice.

'I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to leave him and do not return.'

Again silence, the first time that I went hand-to-hand with the power of Satan previously I was filled with fear and trembling. But this time there was no fear, just a sense of the authority of God's Word and His power.

His head slumped again and after about ten seconds the man looked at me with searching eyes!

'I sense there is another unclean spirit present and I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to tell me your name!'

'I am his father,' was the weird reply. I had been hanging onto the man's arm as I was speaking. I tightened my grip and in anger said, 'You are not his father.'

'I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to leave him and do not return.'

'I will not leave.'

The man, not a large man through the power of the demon, lifted me out of my chair with one arm. It was superhuman strength or I should say the very power of evil.

'You will leave because I command you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ! Leave and do not return.' I did not realize that I was yelling loud enough so that everyone in the room could hear me but no one interfered.

The man's head bowed as before, and then he raised his eyes to mine and said, 'They are gone, Dan, the voices are gone.'

In the next few moments the man renounced Satan as his master and received the Lord Jesus Christ as his Savior.


Romans 10:13: 'For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.'



I previously implied that it was not my first time being involved in demonic activity and it would be prudent to relate that event to you.

It was very early on a Sunday morning when the phone rang. In a stupor, sort of in the twilight zone, I answered it, startled to hear sobbing.

'Dan please help me, I don't know what to do.'

It took a few seconds to recognize the voice, since she hadn't identified herself.

'Marlene, (not her real name) what is wrong?' The cobwebs of sleep were starting to clear.

'Why didn't you call your pastor?'

'I did but she said that she had to go to the church early so she wouldn't have time to come over. Dan please help me, you are the only one that can help.' Then a cold shudder came over my body and fear started. Over the speaker phone I could hear this eerie, unearthly voice speaking in the background. The sound of the voice was similar to that of an electronic robot, more mechanical than human. I was in controlled panic mode, trying to fight the fear that overwhelmed me.

I was screaming to myself THINK! THINK! THINK! Then I offered a silent prayer to my heavenly Father for the guidance of His Holy Spirit.

The thoughts and words came. 'Marlene, you have a demonic vehicle in your house.'

'A what?'

'A demonic vehicle!'

'What's that?'

'You may have drugs! You may have pornography! You may have satanic music, but you have a demonic vehicle in your house.'

'I will go check and see,' leaving me to listen to the demons of hell.

'I found something,' came a yell from another room; as she was approaching the phone she said, 'It is satanic music.'

Her husband grabbed her, trying to tear the music tapes out of her hands.

'That glorifies our master!! That glorifies our master!' The enraged demon was screaming at her as she struggled to hold onto it! She was strong enough to fight him off and I started the hand-to-hand combat with the power of Satan; praying out loud very short, and very feverently.

'Father God, give me your power! Search my heart and forgive anything that would hinder your Holy Spirit. Father I claim all the authority of your Word in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.'

The screaming was deafening. At the name of Jesus, the demon went crazy!

'I cast you out.' I was almost yelling.

The most horrible animal-like screeching you could ever imagine grew even louder, sounding more like a banshee.

'Leave him now and don't come back!' I was screaming.


'He's dead, lying on the floor,' Marlene said.

'No he's still alive. Wake him up.'

'What happened?' came the very weak voice of Gary. But it was his voice.

Marlene asked, 'What should we do?'

I instructed her to find all the music that honored Satan, and take them out and burn them, which she assured me they would. (They later related to me that as they burned the tapes bats flew out of the smoke. Obviously I did not witness the burning.)

'We want to come and see you Dan.'

I didn't know much about demon possession but my first thought was, What if there are still demons present in Gary? I surely didn't want to expose my family to anything like that.

'Why don't you meet me at the mission and we'll talk.'

As we hung up, I could hardly put the phone in the cradle my hand was shaking so badly. In fact, I was scheduled to preach that Sunday and even after driving to the church, about an hour away, my hands were still shaking. It was a fearful experience!

We met the next day and after talking for a while, Gary confessed that as a teen, he and another friend were messing around worshipping Satan, just for kicks. I instructed him that he must verbally renounce Satan. That day Gary rejected Satan as his master and accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior of his life. He confessed to all of us that Jesus Christ was his Lord.

Yes, praise God.

To continue reading, please click here:  Finger Of God In A Church


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