Night time blessings

I’ve been wanting to get John’s house blessed, as I truly believe evil lived there at one point.

when I first started spending the night at John’s house, we go to bed fairly early and I’d always wake up between 1 and 2 AM. I’d hear noises and people talking, I swear it was haunted. I remember the first month I’d get up and leave in the middle of the night. I never felt safe there, and not because I didn’t feel safe with him. It was the energy I kept feeling.

About six months in and watching all of the negative things happen to him. I truly believed that house had a dark spirit, and that dark spirit latched on to John. Over the weekend, I reached out to my social media crew and asked if anyone could bless his house. I’ve gone through it and put holy oil on the doors, but I still felt it needed more.

Last night I met a friend there who came out to bless the house. She put holy oil on my forehead and prayed over me before walking the perimeter of the property in prayer. We went into the house, blessed the doors, windows and walls on the first floor. We go upstairs and she goes into the bathroom says a prayer and then goes across into the first bedroom.

She knows nothing about this house. I’ve never told her a story. I’ve never shared my thoughts nothing. While she’s in the first bedroom praying she’s getting louder and goes towards the window to open it. She says “ I don’t like the energy in this room so whatever negative spirit is in here, you need to leave right now in Jesus name.” She put holy oil on the window and kept it open while flushing the spirits out. I never told her that was the room we slept in when I first met him. That was the room. I heard all those weird noises. I stood out in the hall with goosebumps when she said “I’m getting a bad energy from this room.” My God is always protecting me.

I got emotional on my way to the house last night. I don’t think I’ve been there at night in the last year. That drive, the night sky, the traffic, the fall air, and the way his porch lit up from the street is a constant reminder of something that’s not there anymore.

I am not sure I can explain the aching pain I have reliving every memory we’ve ever shared. I’ll have this hole in my chest for as long as I live, and it’s killing me.

I thought would get easier as time went by, but I swear it’s getting harder. Time is suffocating. Maybe for the first 18 months I was in continuous fog that I didn’t have time to feel, time to grieve, as I had a million things going on.

Now that things have slowed down, I have time to process the heartache and disappointment.

What scares me the most is reading about other men and women who have been exonerated after being in prison for 20+ years due to negligence from the trial courts. we don’t have 20 years. He’ll never survive it. We need change now. Why should these people spend 20+ years in prison because a prosecutor was trying to make a name for himself? Where’s the justice in that? I don’t get it. I suppose I never will.

Jeremiah 17:14 (ESV) "Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for You are my praise."