Conflicting Spirits: Penetrating the Darkness

By Carolyn Murphy

In a small northern California town, a family of five is being attacked by demonic forces. The father and mother, who have always lived a life serving God, try hard to understand what has gotten into their son, Philip Jr. He rebels all authority, staying out late at night and using the Ouija board for power and gain, while their daughter, Danielle, fights hard trying to stay on top of her failing finances. Her marriage is on the rocks, and the demonic spirits are pulling her away from God and all that she has been brought up to believe in.

Please visit the author's web site a

www.carolenaathome.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Apr 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781490770420

Carolyn Murphy

Carolyn Murphy was born in Louisville, Kentucky. She grew up traveling around the world with her family. Her father was in the army for over thirty years. She graduated from college with a BA in English and theater arts. She married young and had four children, all grown now. She became a Christian about twenty-three years ago, letting God have her whole heart, body, mind, and soul. She received the baptism in the Holy Ghost, with the evidence of speaking in other tongues, two months after her conversion. The Lord Jesus called her to preach his word in season and out about twelve years ago. When she first got the call, she ran from it, thinking women were not supposed to preach. But God had other plans for her life, and she accepted his calling for her life. She was assistant pastor for two years and later became pastor of her church, BrotherÕs Keeper Refuge in Christ. She has always enjoyed writing plays, poems, and short stories. So when the Lord impressed upon her heart to write this novel about the choices we make in life, she was more than happy to do so. She hopes this book will help bring more souls into the kingdom of Christ Jesus. We all have choices to make in where our souls shall rest. Where will yours go?

Book preview

Conflicting Spirits

PENETRATING THE DARKNESS

CAROLYN MURPHY

©

Copyright 2016 Carolyn Murphy.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4907-7041-3 (SC)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-7043-7 (HC)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-7042-0 (E)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016904894

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Trafford rev. 04/19/2016

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Reviews

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Epilogue

To my mother, Constance Sandusky, who is deceased;

with love, from your daughter, Carolyn.

And to my children, Robert Hawkins, Connie Sanders,

Angel Sessions, and Desiree White.

To my husband, Raymond Greenoge, who allowed me the many hours to work on this endeavor;

to my two dads, Pete and Wes, who are both deceased;

to my mother, Patricia; and to my two grown children, Naomi and Joseph.

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They lived in the deepest darkness.

They suffered as prisoners in iron chains.

They tripped and fell, and there was

no one to help them.

Then they cried out to the Lord

because of their problems.

And he saved them from their troubles.

He brought them out of the deepest darkness.

He broke off their chains.

—Psalm 107

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Acknowledgments

I thank my good friend Theresa Greenoge for her tireless assistance in helping me rewrite this book. I give much thanks to Victoria Hutchins for the beautiful cover. I thank my friend Ralph Martin for his insight, support, and encouragement, and I thank all my friends who prayed and believed in this literary work.

Last but not the least, I thank my heavenly Father, my Lord Jesus Christ for giving me the storyline and anointing Theresa and me to write this book.

We believe that this book will not only help set people free but will also give them another perspective on what’s considered to be reality.

PS Special thanks to Marie Gallagher.

Reviews

Mary Wilson

World famous performer and former member of The Supremes

I loved the book very much. It was very well written, and I did not want it to end . . .

Michael Knowles

National director, Homecare and cousin of Beyoncé Knowles

"I thought the book contained some interesting character studies that we all can relate to. I thought it was interesting that she was not afraid to share the intimacies of the real world in a book with spiritual messages. In other words, she was able to ‘keep it real without crossing the borders of what some may feel is inappropriate for a book about Christian values and salvation.

"I like the way she incorporated the demons in the book, giving them names and personalities that made it easy for us to identify with those destructive traits in others and in each one of us.

I enjoyed the book . . .

Evangelist Betty Pullum

Nationally recognized evangelist and CEO of Door to Faith Television Ministries

"Conflicting Spirits is a must-read book. It promotes a life-changing experience as the author unmasks the tactics of Satan, and I highly recommend this book… play… (and future movie) for both teens and adults."

Angel Sessions

Recording gospel artist and nationally acclaimed producer and writer

I loved it so much. Once you pick it up, you don’t want to put it down. I am waiting on the sequel.

Jacqueline Sisson, PhD

PhD AT Relationship Life Coach

Carolena is a personal friend of mine and an anointed woman of God. This book will capture your attention and heart from the very first page to the last.

Shelley R. Bennett

CEO of Knuckles Entertainment Group

This is an actual movie in your hands. The words literally come alive, and the reader becomes a part of this marvelous story. It is well written and packed with cries for a sequel.

Dorothy Vailes

Assistant pastor of Brother’s Keeper Refuge in Christ

Pastor Carolyn Murphy, my pastor, mentor, and friend, has written this awesome book of Christian fiction. It is a spiritual thriller that keeps you intrigued yet gives you an insight as to what is happening in the unseen all around us . . .

Pricilla Grove

Senior account manager for Unity Corporation

Pastor Carolyn Murphy, whom I’ve admired and cherished for many years, has written an intriguing novel about good and evil and the choices we make. I just couldn’t put this book down. It grabbed me from start to finish. Good luck, girlfriend! I can’t wait for the sequel/play/movie . . .

William Hart

Lead singer of world-renowned Delfonics

"Conflicting Spirits was very deep. I enjoyed it."

Sarah Mc Fadden

Artist, poet

"Conflicting Spirits gives a warning to unbelievers and a reminder to believers with vivid expression.

This book offers awareness and hope by acknowledging bible truth. Thank God Carolyn Murphy is fulfilling God’s purpose in her life to enlighten people to God’s truth."

Pastor Blair Holloway

Senior pastor, Christian Life Center of San Diego, California

"I have been a fan of Carolyn Murphy for a number of years. This book is a great introduction into the spiritual conflict. Fiction sometimes can introduce some great nonfiction truths, and I believe Conflicting Spirits does just that."

Web site:

www.carolenaathome.com

E-mail:

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Prologue

I n the sleepy little town of Queens City, California, with a population of 2,500, majestic snowcapped mountains to the east and soft green rolling hills to the west surround a farming town down in the valley. The farmers were known for producing great crops of asparagus, cabbage, lettuce, and apples. Because of the warm temperatures, a comfortable eighty-five degrees in the summer, this town has been very prosperous in all its agricultural endeavors.

One street made up the whole downtown, with buildings no higher than two stories. The mayor’s office, the courthouse, the sheriff’s department, and the post office were in the same building. The biggest shopping area had only fifteen stores; this included the hardware store, the barbershop and two well-known eating establishments, the Hamburger Bistro and Pizza Stop.

The citizens who lived in this quaint little town were very proud of their family life. They got together for picnics, ball games, and socializing at the Queens City Plaza. Everybody knew who did what and on what day they did it. The citizens didn’t call it nosiness but love and concern for one another’s well-being.

Twelve small churches dotted the small community, ranging from Pentecostal to nondenominational. Most of the people attended church. There were also those who liked to dibble and dabble in the unknown just for kicks, dibbling and dabbling in such things as Ouija boards, tarot cards, and even séances.

Not much else happens in the quaint little town. Many of the people had lived there all their lives, and for the most part, they are law-abiding citizens.

This is the town where Phillip James Sr. and his family have lived for four generations. If asked, Phillip would say, There is no better place to raise children.

His grandfather had been sheriff, and he bragged about the town having the lowest crime rate of the entire state. Every now and then, an occasional bird being shot out of season, kids breaking windows out of boredom, or a rare purse snatching was for the most part all the new sheriff had to deal with.

No one could have foreseen, in this place of peace and harmony, that demonic activity would be so rampant. But evil has no boundaries . . .

Chapter One

T he dew was still on the flowers and grass, and the sun was just coming up over the horizon. It splashed orange, red, and yellow clouds that sparkled and changed as quickly as they formed. There was a light breeze blowing into the valley that was crisp, clean, and invigorating. Sparrows sang pleasantly as they flew from tree to tree, and a family of squirrels scampered about in the yard.

She stood on the front porch of the white ranch-style home, feeling the wind blow softly against her face, and took a deep whiff of the jasmine vines growing in her garden, loving the sweet fragrance. She could also smell the asparagus crops growing just a half mile east of her home. She always loved this time of morning. It was a new day dawning.

Carol walked over to her well-worn rocking chair, for a few moments, peace flowed unhindered through her mind. She remembered, This is the same old rocker I’ve spent many summer evenings rocking each of my babies to sleep when they were young. She thought about the goodness of God, the blessings that he’d freely given to her family.

For a moment, Carol let her mind drift, and she almost dozed off into sleep, unaware of the negative forces hovering in and around the spaces of her home.

Seizing an opportunity, the demons forced their way into the peacefulness of the moment and darkened the atmosphere. They had been watching and waiting for an opening, and now was the perfect time.

A spirit of lethargy drifted over and down upon Carol and said, She is in a vulnerable state of mind. She sits idle and nods.

Let’s remind her of the insurmountable problems that exist in her life, a spirit of oppression inserted.

Each of these demons has its own name according to his wicked and evil deeds. The demon Deceiver spoke to Cheater and said Let’s have Carol think the worst of her son-in-law, Thomas. And let’s make sure that Thomas doesn’t repent from his lying, cheating, and scheming ways. Ha, ha, ha.

Sinisterly, a spirit of Cheater answered, Don’t worry, I came to him in a dream and convinced him that he’s doing it all for his lovely wife, Danielle. He thinks she deserves all the best life has to offer. Ha, ha, ha. Their evil laughter was felt in the once-peaceful atmosphere.

All of a sudden, the evil closed in on Carol oppressing her thoughts, reminding her of all of the circumstances her children were facing. The morbid thoughts weighed her down, assaulting her tranquil morning.

This surely is not the way I want to start out my morning. Carol looked up toward heaven and knew she had to pray to keep these thoughts at bay. As she did, the demonic forces quickly faded into thin air.

Somewhere close but out of sight, angels of tranquility and peace were commissioned to oversee and encourage Carol. I am glad that she is praying. Now we can move on her behalf and keep the darkness restrained.

"Oh, Lord, what are we going to do? We believe in you, Lord, and we believe in your wonderful mercy, I know with you, all things are possible. I know you can work even this out for your glory.

Father God, my son-in-law, Thomas, please touch his heart that he may yield to your Holy Spirit. He needs you so, even if he doesn’t know it now. And Lord, please, in your loving kindness, touch my daughter-in-law, Cam, in her infirmities. I know that she has faith in you. Nevertheless, we all need encouragement now and then. Oh, Lord, my baby, my youngest son, sweet Jesus, he needs you most of all. He is so impressionable. He hangs around with the wrong crowd, and he doesn’t listen to his father and me anymore. Jesus please help him to hear you speaking to his heart so that he would repent from his rebellious ways and come to you.

Carol bowed her head in total submission; at that moment, she was distracted by the sound of the front screen door opening.

Carol, honey, breakfast is ready, Phillip called out from inside the screen door. He walked out onto the porch and found Carol sitting in her favorite spot, looking serene but just a bit worried.

She turned, smiled at her husband, and said, Sweetheart, you always have perfect timing, you know that?

What’s the matter, honey? I hope you’re still not worried about the kids. Why don’t you leave that in God’s hands? You of all people should know that God is going to take good care of them. He has always been there for them and always will be. He promised to never leave us nor forsake us, God is not a liar.

I know, I know. I just can’t help it sometimes. Carol stood up and took her husband by the hand and walked with him. Come on, honey. Breakfast smells so good. Let’s go eat. The screen door closed behind them.

Phillip took his wife of thirty-three years into his arms, loving the warmth of her body. You know, Carol, that you still look as beautiful as the day we married, you haven’t changed much over the years.

She laughed and said, Yeah right. Sure I look the same even with the gray that’s in my hair?

Carol, you have barely a dozen gray hairs in your thick, luscious, dark-brown hair. It wasn’t your hair I fell in love with.

Carol looked at her husband and laughed. Oh silly, I love you anyway, I know what you’re trying to do. And just so you know, it’s working. She reached up and gave him a tender kiss on the cheek and said, Thanks, honey.

Arm in arm, they continued walking like newlyweds to the kitchen. His ebony skin and his tall six-foot-two frame complemented her ivory complexion and five-foot-four form.

I thank God every day that our families accepted our interracial marriage, Phillip Sr. stated.

She snuggled up even closer into his arms and kissed him again, Me too, sweetheart.

The old wood-block table was the centerpiece of their family gatherings and was prominently placed in the middle of their large, open country kitchen. Carol sat down at the table enjoying the smell of the breakfast her husband had prepared.

Baby, you sure outdid yourself this morning. Who else did you think you were feeding?

Well, honey, you haven’t eaten much lately, you look like you’ve lost weight. I just wanted you to have a good hearty breakfast.

Bacon, eggs, grits, toast, and fruit—yes, dear, this is hearty. My usual is a toasted bagel with a cup of coffee. You know I am trying to lose some weight. Carol sighed as her attention was drawn back to her children. She looked up at Phillip, and in a soft voice, she asked, What are we going to do, Phillip? It seems like our children’s lives are falling apart, and I don’t know how to help them.

Phillip took her hand. I told you, sweetheart, we’ve got to trust God. What else can we do but trust him? You know that Cam is in God’s hands, and so is Danielle, although she called again yesterday crying. She knows she and her children can move back in with us. I know I shouldn’t say this, but Thomas brought this disaster on himself. But through our prayers and the prayers of our friends in the church, I know that God will work even this for his glory. I’m just as worried as you are about Phillip Jr. I don’t know where he could be either. Have you called some of his friends?

With tears in her eyes, Carol said, I don’t know who his friends are anymore. I used to know everything about him, his friends, things he liked, places he’d go, but not anymore. Remember, dear, when our children were younger? Things seemed so much simpler. We knew who their friends were, they looked up to us. They looked up to God, all of them believed in Jesus then. Well, both Danielle and Bernard did when they were pre-teens. Phillip Jr.? Well, I don’t know about him, you know how he is. I just don’t know what happened there. Where did we go wrong, honey? said Carol. I can remember that Christmas when Danielle was about nine . . .

CHRISTMAS 1981

"It was two nights before Christmas when we all went together to the woods to cut down that oversized pine tree that you had spotted. And when you finally had that big tree set up, the children were so excited that they wanted you to turn on the Christmas lights before we even strung the popcorn garland.

"I was busy in the kitchen baking cookies and could hear all the laughter. I couldn’t wait to join you guys. I came in the room with the freshly baked cookies, just as the embers in the fireplace died down a bit. You stoked the fire back to a small roar, it made such a comforting heat that filled the entire room. I really miss those days.

"I can still remember seeing the street we use to live on, with the mature trees that made a canopy from one side to the other. They had white lights that adorned the branches that formed a corridor of stars. There were snowmen in every other yard. There were fat ones, thin ones, tall and short ones, some were even wearing old castaway hats with scarves. They had carrot noses, large buttoned eyes, all with big raisin smiles, there were many signs of homemade decorations showing the creativity of the children abound all along the street.

Our street was the kind of place where most people would always want to live. I wished we still lived on that street, honey. Remember . . . ?

"I remember well. One night, when the snow was falling soft like a cloud, shining under the full moon, our family was happily gathered around the piano. It was very cold and windy outside, but our neighbors could still hear the laughter ringing out. We sang loud and out of key, ‘Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh. Hey!’

"Danielle had asked me, ‘Daddy, Daddy, are we still going to go to church tonight?’

"‘Yes, Danielle. You know you’re in the Christmas Pageant, we wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s only eight thirty, it doesn’t even start until midnight. We’ll leave here in a couple of hours. Don’t worry, we’ll be on time.’

Bernard jumped up and squealed, ‘I can’t wait! I love church, especially around Christmastime!’

"Phillip, honey, that reminded me that I had to finish Danielle’s dress, so I said, ‘Danielle, please bring me your costume. There are a couple of things I need to add.’

‘Oh Mommy, are you going to put sequins on my outfit? Please?’

"I tried to reason with Danielle, telling her they didn’t have sequins in the days of Jesus. Mary was a humble woman, she would not have worn such an outrageous outfit.

"Danielle insisted, ‘The angels have sequins on their white gowns and on their haloes, Mommy. I have to be as pretty as or prettier than the angels because I’m the star, you know that.’

"‘Honey, this is not about you. It’s about the birth of Jesus. The emphasis should be on him and not on you.’

"Then Danielle started her pouting and whining, and I, as usual, gave in and said, ‘Okay, okay, Danielle. I’ll see what I can do to make your costume pretty.’

"Two hours later, we all jumped into our new Volvo station wagon. It was a fun but frosty drive to the Shepherd’s Way Inn Church. The church was full to capacity. All the people were bustling to make last-minute arrangements.

"Mrs. Gallagher, the play director, was in the back with the cast dressing and practicing their parts. Danielle made her entrance, prancing around the play director. Sister Gallagher’s chin dropped, and her eyes widened when she saw her outfit.

"‘Oh Lord, Danielle, what are you wearing? Why can’t you be like the rest of the children?’

"With a defiant look on her face, Danielle defended herself by saying, ‘This is my costume, my mother made it for me, and I want to wear it!’

"I knew what I did was wrong. All I could do was stand at the door and listen. Sister Gallagher in her frustration threw her hands up and turned toward me. Embarrassed, I innocently said, ‘What seems to be the problem, Sister Gallagher?’

"Sister Gallagher looked stern and somewhat frazzled and responded, ‘Danielle’s costume is supposed to be brown and blue, subtle, of modest fabric. What she’s wearing is not appropriate for her character. Mary was a very humble woman.’

"Danielle, in her childish ways, once again tried to defend herself and said, ‘But the angels’ costumes are sparkly. Why can’t mine be too?’

"‘Because the angels are heavenly and are supposed to look all glowing and glittery. The purple you are wearing symbolizes the color of royalty, and my dear, satin back then was very expensive. Mary did not have the means, nor did she care to have such things.’

"I stepped in to try to end what seemed at that time a senseless argument, ‘I’m sorry about the glitter, but her outfit is made, it’s too late to change it now. Please forgive Danielle and me.’

"Danielle, content with the outcome, joined her friends and squealed, ‘Look at my outfit. Isn’t it beautiful?’

"Of course, the children were just as thrilled as she was, and they all jumped with gleam and agreed. The costume was beautiful because I had purchased the best fabric. You know I would only buy the best for our darling daughter. It was fine purple satin. I had applied shiny gold trim around the neck, arm cuffs, and hem. Even the shawl was made of gold lace.

"Sister Gallagher had turned and surrendered for the moment.

‘Fine, let her wear it this time. But in the future, please come to me before you make a decision like that.’ The memory caused Carol to smile in a mischievous way as she continued to reminisce.

"Later that night, at the Shepherd’s Way Inn Church, Danielle was onstage taking her bow, smiling ear to ear. She ran to us backstage. ‘Daddy, mommy, wasn’t I just wonderful? Every eye was on me. They hollered and clapped for me—for me, Daddy!’

"‘Yes, honey, you were wonderful! I am so proud of you.’

"I added, ‘We got you some roses as a small token of our love, because we are so proud of you.’

"With a childish, insensitive attitude, Danielle pouted and told me, ‘Oh mommy, you bought roses, I would rather have had the money.’

"I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but you interceded for me. ‘Danielle, why aren’t you grateful for the things that your mother and I do for you? Nothing seems to satisfy you. The more we give, the more you want.’

"Our daughter knew she had you wrapped around her little finger. As usual, she gave you a big smile and sweetly said—quite superficially, I might add—‘Daddy, I’m sorry.’ Then she turned to me in the same manner and said, ‘Thank you, Mommy. I’ll take the roses now.’

You know, honey, we gave into Danielle’s childish demands quite often.

Phillip smiled at his wife and said, It wasn’t always that way, dear. I can remember the summer of ’87, when Bernard lost his little league game. It was the end of the season . . .

SUMMER 1987

"Baseball season was nearly at an end. You know how children’s sports are important to our little town. There were always bake sales and other fundraisers in our community to get each player their uniforms. Kids came from neighboring towns with their families, the competition was very high. The home games always took place in the old city park.

"On that particular day, Bernard’s team, the Queens City Cougars, were playing against the Tiger Red team from Twin Oaks. I remember the sun was sweltering hot, and the noon heat was blistering. There was no breeze that would normally have refreshed the players on either team. Our clothes were damp, sticky against our warm bodies. Many spectators sat with big beach umbrellas overhead, trying to stay cool. Some families had portable gazebos to protect their skin from being burned.

"Lemonade stands and other concessions held long lines of fans, waiting to quench their thirst.

This was the playoff game that would determine whose team would be the champion and what town would hold the parade. A big trophy would adorn city hall for all to see. The year before was the first time in years that the Cougars had won, they all got their pictures in the Queens Daily newspaper.

"This year, our boys were defending their title. At least eight hundred or more people crowded the park with enthusiasm for their team.

"Two long hours later after a heated struggle, Bernard’s team had lost the game. You could hear whoops and hollers from the Tiger Red fans. Only audible sighs came from the Cougar fans. And the mayor of Twin Oaks, well, you would have thought he won the lottery or something. He stood proudly as our mayor of Queens City approached him with the valued trophy. Mayor Cid handed over the trophy meekly and said, ‘You may have won this year, but we’ll get it back next year.’

"‘Now, now, Mr. Mayor, how does it feel? We get to have the parade this year. I’m looking forward to that. Don’t forget to bring your wife, Doris, to the parade.’

"The mayor of Twin Oaks was not a very gracious