In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the Image of God, should shine unto them.
II Corinthians 4:4

Johanna
Holy Spirit You are welcome here
Come flood this place and fill the atmosphere
Your Glory God is what our hearts long for
To be overcome by Your Presence
LORD!

The verse of the song echoed in my mind as I got ready for the day. It was finally Monday—the day I would travel to the mountain ranges. The thought of going to new places for the glory of God filled my heart with joy.

I took a deep breath as a jeepney pulled up. I climbed in and found a seat just as it started to move.

Wow, I thought, what might be waiting for me ahead? Ever since Christ came into my life, everything had moved so fast. And yet, I had no regrets. Everything God does is simply... amazing.

⸻

"Anna! Over here!" I heard Melchour call out. I scanned the crowd at the terminal and spotted him waving.

"Good morning! I'm so sorry I'm late, Manung," I said, catching my breath.

He chuckled. "Nah, I'm just early, that's all."

I smiled. "Wow, not many people would say that after waiting for almost an hour."

He laughed. "Good thing I'm not like most people, then. Anyway, since you're here, we should get on the bus. We'll be picking up Pastor Allan along the way."

"Oh, who's Pastor Allan?" I asked as we walked toward the bus.

"One of my close friends," he replied, loading our bags into the storage compartment. "He's a pastor at our church too, but we don't see him much since he oversees our outreach church in Bokod."

"Oh, I see. I'll be looking forward to meeting him," I said as I found a seat by the window. The terminal buzzed with people going about their day.

My eyes landed on a woman in the crowd. Dressed in all black, she looked like she was mourning. But the sharp eyeliner and fierce red lipstick told a different story. Her pale skin gave her an eerie, almost vampiric look. Is she a foreigner? I wondered. My brows furrowed slightly. She kinda looks like... a vampire?

To my surprise, she turned and met my gaze, locking eyes with me as if she knew me. I quickly looked away, feeling a chill run through me. What was that about?

"You okay?" Melchour's hand touched my shoulder, snapping me out of it.

"Uh... yeah. I think so," I stammered.

He gave me a curious look. "You don't seem fine. What happened?"

"I... I saw this woman," I said quietly. "All dressed in black. She stared at me and... I don't know. It was unsettling. Creepy, even."

He took a deep breath and asked, "Was she wearing all black?"

"Yes."

"Blonde hair? Shoulder length?"

"Yes! That's her. How do you know her? Do you... know her?"

He nodded. "Her name is Clarine Medina. I spoke with her earlier. She's waiting for a friend coming from the province."

I listened closely as he continued.

"She came to our church once asking for deliverance. She admitted she was involved in satanic practices and organizations. Pastor Fernando ministered to her. She went through several deliverance sessions, but something was missing—she refused to let go of items connected to Satanism. So even after being delivered multiple times, the evil spirits kept coming back."

I sat in stunned silence, goosebumps rising on my arms. Satanism? I didn't even know that was real...

"Wait, really, Manung? There are actual Satanists here? I mean—I know there are pagans, but I thought Satanists were just... myths."

"Anna," he said gently, turning to me, "if there is such a thing as God, then of course there is such a thing as the Devil. If there's a kingdom of God, there's a kingdom of darkness too. The battle was won by Jesus two thousand years ago on Calvary, but the devil will still do everything he can to drag souls to hell. That's how much he hates God—and us."

"Why would he hate us?" I asked quietly.

"Because we bear God's image. Don't you remember? When God created man, He made us in His own image. Every time Satan sees us, he's reminded of how much God loves us. It drives him mad. That's why he works day and night to pull as many souls away from God as he can—sometimes, through people like those Satanists."

As he spoke, it all started to make sense. No wonder the enemy is so relentless.

"But... Pastor, you said Jesus already won the battle. Why is the Devil still able to take people to hell?"

"That's a good question, Anna. Jesus did win, but salvation is a choice. He didn't die to force anyone to follow Him. He died to show us His love and to make a way for us to be with Him forever. But like a suitor waiting for the woman he loves to say yes, Jesus waits for each person's decision. After everything He's done—will we choose Him, or not?"

A wave of realization washed over me. I remembered the day I first said yes to Jesus. It was a choice. He never forced me. He just loved me—and waited.

"You always know how to answer my questions," I said with a grateful smile. "Thank you. I'm really glad God uses people like you to speak truth."

"Glory to God, Anna," he said warmly. "And don't be afraid to ask questions—I love questions!" He laughed, and I couldn't help but laugh along. Yup. Definitely a teacher.

As the bus began to move, I turned to the window again. For the first time in a long while, I felt peace. The questions I had buried for so long were finally being answered—one by one.

"But remember," he added softly, leaning in, "the best answers are the ones God gives you Himself."