One peaceful afternoon as I was just chillin’ out in my garage, when here come the mailman bringing me my mail. So, as he left, I headed out towards my mailbox to get the mail he’d just delivered to me. Then as I was headed back towards the garage, I noticed the strangest looking letter that I’d ever seen mixed in along with the rest of the mail I’d just got. It was a chilling little envelope, bordered with flying bats and eerie serpents whose eyes were all tinted green.
The letter was addressed to me, so I opened it. I froze…because what it said literally turned my skin three different shades of blue.
It said, “My name is Isack Horowitz, and I’m a male witch, a warlock, and I feel that I need to spend a little time with you.”
Now, as a Christian from a small little church near the home where I lived, trying my best to fulfill God’s call on my life, a simple man of faith and power with a challenge in life to grow, I did what any other sensible person would do if they were in my shoes. I glanced at the return address and quickly tore the letter up because there’s sure no way in hell that I’m ever gonna go.
Then, gently and methodically, the Holy Spirit started to speak to me reminding me that we’re God’s voice to our nation and the world in which we’re living in. It’s the church’s responsibility to go out and be a witness. So…reluctantly, I accepted this warlock’s invitation.
He had the kind of house that I’d expected to see. An old English cottage, A Nightmare on Elm Street special for sure, right down to the core. It had the overgrown ivy and a gate that even creaked as you opened it. I was beginning to think that ol’ Freddie himself just might actually answer the door.
The doorbell rang a hollow gong, then the large doorknob began to turn, and the door opened and there stood Isack standing right there in front of me, with this cold sinister grin on his face. He had jet black hair and a well-trimmed beard as it all flowed with the jet-black clothes that he wore. And then I felt my skin start to crawl as I heard him say, “Please…come on in.”
His house was filled with every kind of occultist symbol you could imagine. Hanging pentagrams and horoscope signs, an Quija board, tarot cards, Dungeons & Dragons role playing games all sat upon his table that even had a crystal ball in the center of it. He then graciously handed me a small stirring cup of some kind of herbal tea, but its presence only sent my memory for a jog, as I’d started to remember every horror flick I’d ever seen back when I was a kid. And I thought, “Man you drink this stuff and tomorrow you’ll be a frog for sure.”
Then he led me to a high back Gothic-looking old chair as he meticulously began to unfold his scenario with an evil patience. He gave me a large black leather bound dusty old book stuffed full of all kinds of different newspaper clippings, thus was the reason for this… “Warlock’s Invitation”.
With eagerness he quickly began to point to each article with pride as he said to me, “I healed this woman through using a Babylonian chant. You see this man; I cured him while performing a Druid worship. And I was paid to curse this man here with AIDS by his own aunt.”
On and on he went, page after page, delightfully as he flaunted each and every incident with pride. For more than an hour he went on without even taking a breath. He said, “Do you realize through my understanding of the Dark Regions, I can make you rich, or even curse someone to death.”
I sat literally intimidated by his immensity in demon power while his face gleamed with an arrogant bliss. Then placing his arms on my chair and leaning into my face he said, “What can your God do to compete with this?”
I knew then how Moses must of felt when his rod turned into a serpent and the three Egyptian magicians all made their rods do the same. It’s like you’re just sitting there in that stunned moment where your faith feels violated and all you feel is weak, powerless and lame.
I desperately and deeply began to pray asking for Jesus to give me wisdom. I didn’t want to put Him through some foolish test. Then a huge shaft of light came flashing through my soul, lighting my eyes with fire. Then God himself stood me up and I threw his book back into his chest. I said, “Isack, I will not compare God’s miracles versus Satan’s. The issue is not God’s kingdom or Satan’s lair. The real comparison is the condition of your soul and the condition of mine, you puppet of the devil, that I’d be glad to compare.”
I said, “Isack my friend, one day they’re going to be coming for you, your soft associates and incantations, and all those friendly demons you think you now control. My friend, one day the time will come when you’ll be lying on your death bed wheezing like a dying animal, when all those spirits will come to claim the rights they own upon your soul. Then the room will grow dark and the most hideous and evil face you’ve ever seen will come flaming up out of the floor with an evil yell and roar. Those vile informants who had promised you reincarnation will come to claim your spirit and victoriously drag your soul…to hell!”
Then I grabbed his old book and said in that moment, “Which mantra, which incantation, are you gonna chant to make them leave you alone? My friend, I know without a shadow of a doubt what I would say. “I’ve been bought by the blood of Jesus Christ. Let me go!”
I continued, “Isack, when you tossed that book into my lap you glowed with a sinister victory, you rejoiced when you said your name in black and white, but now I rejoice. But not that your counsel of demons are subjected to Jesus Christ, but that my name’s been written in the Lambs Book of Life.”
Then Isack jumped up from out of his chair and screamed, “You must leave now!” And so I said, “I will, but one last obligation before I leave here. Next time you’d better think twice before you try to rumble with a man of God. And, oh by the way, thank you for your, uh…’Warlock’s Invitation’. I then turned, slammed the door shut, and left. Never again did I ever receive another invitation from him.
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