When my mother-in-law passed away, some of her old stuff was shipped out to us in case we might want it. In this box, were some statues and trinkets that she had purchased as souvenirs from her travels. One of them, was an all-white porcelain statue of a Chinese geisha girl, holding out her arms and hands in a peculiar way. One of the hands looked like it may have at one time been broken off and temporarily repaired, so I was wondering if I should apply a permanent fix to it, or if it was even worth saving at all.

As I was holding it, I began to feel vaguely uncomfortable with it, and wondered if it was spiritually o.k. or not to keep. So I asked my kids for a second opinion.

One shrugged and said they had sensed something evil about it at first, but as that feeling quickly went away, they couldn’t be real sure. So they went to see if there was more information on it over the internet.

My oldest son however, wanted it out of the house immediately. He said he could hear foreign voices coming from the statue, singing and chanting in tongues, and he knew that they were demons. As the minutes went by, he became more and more distressed over it, because their voices were getting louder and louder, and more threatening.

So I decided to bless it with our blessed olive oil and claim it in the name of Jesus. As soon as the blessing oil touched the statue, my oldest said the demons were shrieking and howling in pain and anger, and were coming out of the statue. But they soon went back to their odd chanting and singing, this time even louder than before. My internet searcher then reports back to me, telling me that this statue is an actual demon goddess that people in China pray to, in their homes. My oldest interrupts to say that he felt the Holy Spirit telling him that we NEED to get rid of the statue, NOW.

At that point, one of the demons physically attacked my son. It threw him down onto the stairs, (as he tried to run away,) and then wrapped its tendrils around his throat and tried to choke him, while another smaller one sat on his chest to try and silence him by suffocating him. My kids could only stare at the demons, unable to move or speak, frozen in fear and terror, as they watched them viciously attack their older brother. (This was odd behavior for some of them; normally they don’t let them spook them, they simply cast them out in the name of Jesus.) It sounded horrible; I could hear my son’s screams of sheer terror; he kept repeating over and over: “NO! DON’T LET IT TAKE ME! GET IT OFF OF ME! MOM!! HELP ME!” And then a moment later, ”PLEASE! GET RID OF THE STATUE!!! NOW!!!!”, as he tried to claw away at his own neck the suffocating strangle hold of the demon’s grip. I looked into my son’s eyes, and could see the absolute panic and terror that he was feeling reflecting out from them. But I myself could not see any demon at all; all I could see were strange markings of something around his neck, and his face grow red and bulge as he kept struggling and gasping to pull in a breath of air.

At first I looked for the obvious signs of a ‘too-tight’ shirt collar, or anything else that might have caused such a reaction, and a part of me couldn’t help but wonder if my son was just faking it to get attention. Till I looked up and seen all the eyes of my children starring at the same demons that was on top of him in horror. They were all starring at the demons, not at my son. Then I knew it was indeed real.

I cried out for my husband, (who had heard all the commotion and had been wondering what was going on, but had remained downstairs working on his computer,) and asked him to quickly take the statue and “get it out of this house!”

So he came up and took the statue outside. Meanwhile I went and grabbed my book entitled “Prayers that rout demons”, (scriptures and prayers based on them that are indexed for immediate battle-ready use,) and started claiming them out loud, and casting out in Jesus name whatever was attacking my son. I had to shout them out, and say them with great energy. I could then slightly sense the demon sneer at me, as it seemingly loosened its grip on my son and disappeared.

So I asked the kids if they still felt the demons, and one told me that they could still hear them, and another told me they could see the thin black ropes, coming from the outside, still trying to attack us.

I asked the child that seen the thin black ropes where they were coming from, and was pointed towards the window, on the left side. We go outside, following the trails of black rope, not knowing where their father had put the statue, (he was back downstairs working again,) and were led directly to the statue, right where the lines were seen to be coming from.

I took the statue, and along with my kids, went down to the fire pit. We built up a fire, lit it, and when we thought it was going strong enough, we put the statue in it.

Within the next minute or so, the fire went out.

So we rebuilt the fire, this time making it bigger and stronger, right on top of the statue. It was not easy. This was a fire that for some reason did not want to burn. But I asked the Lord to please help us with the fire, so it got going pretty good. Ten to fifteen minutes later, the fire around the statue had dissipated, leaving the rest of the fire around it still burning. We kicked the rest of the fire out, and I went to go pick up the statue with a stick, figuring it was now way too hot to hold. But the Holy Spirit told me to go ahead and pick it up with my bare hands.

It was icy cold. Not a single blemish or smear of soot had disfigured it.

My eldest son cried out to me again, asking me to smash it, but I was already one step ahead of him. I was trying to find a brick to smash it with, but most near me were still way too hot from the fire to use. (I had just burned my fingers on one, finding that out the hard way.) So a brick from the other side of the fire pit was found, and with great force, I smashed the delicate porcelain with one square blow. I must admit, at this point I half expected it to be resistant to being smashed as well, so I think I may have used a bit too much force, for the bricks above it and underneath it ended up being cracked and broken as well. I was going to keep breaking it up into dust, but the kids said it was no longer necessary, as the black trails had now dissipated in the air like smoke does on a breezy day.