I don’t tell this story to convince anyone of anything. I’m not trying to prove that ghosts are real or that every strange feeling in a room is a demon. I’m just a guy from the backside of South Carolina who has walked through a lot of things I can’t fully explain — a scary basement, sleep paralysis as a teenager, an oppressive darkness the week before I started dating my wife, a camper that seemed to carry something with it, and a night when my whole family felt like something was standing on the back porch that hated us.

I’ve held all of this loosely for a long time, mostly sharing it in bits and pieces with close friends or in late-night conversations. But over the years, people have asked me to write it down — partly out of curiosity, partly because some of them have had similar experiences and wanted to know they weren’t alone. So this is my attempt to put it in one place: not a theology paper, not a ghost story for shock value, just an honest account of what I’ve lived through and what I’ve come to believe about it.

A few things before you read on. First, I’m not interested in spiritual bravado. I don’t chase experiences, and I’d honestly be fine if nothing like this ever happened to me again. Second, I believe firmly in therapy, medicine, and ordinary human explanations for most of what troubles us — this isn’t an “everything is demonic” account. Third, and most important to me: whatever I describe below, none of it ever had the last word. There’s a thread running through all of it, and it’s the same thread every time.

Here’s the story, as best I can tell it.

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I’ve always had some sense that the supernatural is real. It has always been there for me. Over time, I’ve had so many experiences that, to me, it just feels undeniable.

My earliest supernatural memory goes back to the house where I grew up. My dad built it out in the country near Greenville, South Carolina, back before Greenville was “cool,” out near Travelers Rest, before Travelers Rest was what it is now. I come from bare feet, bluegrass, and BB guns — the backside of nowhere. It was a strange world to grow up in.

One of my earliest memories is of our basement. At that time, very few houses around there even had basements, but ours did. There was always something strange about it. Even though my dad built the house himself, there was just an atmosphere down there that bothered me. I was always scared of that basement, especially in the dark. Maybe that was just normal childhood fear of the unknown, and that’s certainly part of it, but it always felt like more than that.

As I got older, especially in my early teens, I started having recurring sleep paralysis. About twice a month, I would wake up unable to move, absolutely terrified. I somehow knew (whether I had heard it somewhere or just sensed it in my heart) that when that paralysis happened, I needed to command whatever it was to leave in the name of Jesus. It was absolutely terrifying. I would wake up, unable to move, full of fear, aware of something in the room. There were no dramatic manifestations beyond that, but it was enough.

Around that same time, I also felt the Holy Spirit beginning to call me toward ministry, and I resisted hard. I did not want to go. I had plenty of issues of my own, and honestly, I wanted to be a chemist because I liked blowing things up. I’ve got stories there too, but that’s another topic.

But I remember one particular moment, driving my little 1989 square-body Honda Civic over the same spot I still pass to this day, feeling the pressure of that calling after days and weeks of resistance. Finally, I said something like, “Fine. I’ll go wherever you want me to go. If this really is You, then I’ll obey.” That, too, was one of those supernatural moments for me — the sense of pressure, of being pursued, of God refusing to leave me alone.

Around late high school, I used to post little devotional thoughts on Facebook. One morning I was reading about the seven sons of Sceva in Acts — the story where they tried to cast out a demon by using the name of Jesus because they had seen the apostles do it. The demon answered them, in effect, “Jesus I know, and Paul I know, but who are you?” — and then absolutely tore them up. I remember posting something about that and asking, basically: when you minister, do you carry enough weight in the name of Christ that the forces of darkness know who you are, or are you still nameless to them? I thought it was a pretty striking thought. My mom thought it was weird and asked me to take it down. Definitely curious about the supernatural but I knew enough not to explore that territory.

Eventually I went off to Bible college, and at some point the sleep paralysis stopped. I don’t know exactly why. It just went away, and that was a relief.

In college, I met the woman who would become my wife. First I saw this cute girl and found out she was an English major. At the time, I thought, “Great, that means she’ll correct my grammar all the time.” Turns out that stereotype wasn’t really fair. I was studying for ministry, and I joked to myself that an English major probably needed Jesus more than most people, though I didn’t really mean that seriously.

Then one day there was an event called the Greek Forum, where Bible students would go hear someone talk about using Greek in ministry. As I was leaving, I saw that same English major again. I asked, “What’s an English major doing at a Greek forum?” She said, “I’m taking Greek, and I need the extra credit.” We talked, and by the end of that conversation, I just knew I was going to date her. Then we went on our first date, and after that first date, I knew I was going to marry her. I didn’t say that out loud — I was smarter than that — but that was absolutely what was in my head.

Before we officially started dating, though, it got weird. We went on a couple of dates, and then she turned me down. After some awkwardness, I got to the point where I was preparing to ask her to make things official after winter break. During that time, I felt an oppression that was almost unbearable. It wasn’t just sadness. It wasn’t normal nerves. It was an intense darkness — one of the darkest emotional and spiritual atmospheres I’ve ever felt. And all this over simply asking a girl to be my girlfriend. It made no sense. But the darkness was overwhelming. Then, through a weird miscommunication and a few other circumstances, we finally did start dating, and as soon as we did, that oppression lifted almost instantly. That was one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had. It was as if something was fighting that relationship, and the moment it became official, the pressure broke.

We dated like normal people after that — ups and downs, rounds and rounds — and eventually we got married. She has been an incredible wife for the last twelve years, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Before we got married, we were looking for an apartment because we were broke and needed something cheap. One day we drove into an apartment complex, and the instant we crossed onto the property, both of us felt it: darkness, evil, hostility. It wasn’t just that it was rundown. We had already toured plenty of rundown places because we were poor. This was different. It was like something in that place was actively angry and did not want us there. We didn’t say anything to each other while we were on the property. I just drove around and then drove right back out. The moment we crossed back off the property, both of us let out this huge sigh of relief. Then we looked at each other and realized we had both felt the exact same thing. It wasn’t the sense that something wanted to attack us. It was more like we had entered territory where we were not welcome.

We eventually found another apartment. It was rough, but it worked as a starter place. In that apartment, there were multiple times when one or both of us woke up in the middle of the night with the sense that something was in the room, staring at us. That happened more than once. It felt like a place where things moved through, if that makes sense — like a lot of transient spiritual junk passed through there. Not fun.

Later, after we moved into the country again, we still occasionally had odd experiences. At one point, we bought an old 1950s camper with the idea of remodeling it into an Airbnb. No joke, something felt wrong with that camper. We both sensed it. For a week or two after bringing it home, we felt like something had come with it. Then one day my wife’s sister and brother-in-law came over. They’re spiritually perceptive too. After they left, they called and said that whatever had been around our place had followed them home in their car, and they had to pray it away from their house. It sounds bizarre, but all of us were convinced something had attached itself to that camper and then left with them because it didn’t want to stay with us.

As a side, over the years, I’ve come to think there are different kinds of demonic oppression. This is just my personal experience, not formal doctrine. But in my mind, there are levels. Some feel like what I’d call “vermin-class” spirits: unclean, annoying, opportunistic, cowardly. They try to distract, tempt, harass, stir fear, or pull people away from God, but they aren’t especially strong. Then there are others that feel more direct and targeted — more like warriors, set on destruction, trying to break a person, especially if that person is pursuing Christ seriously. Most of my experiences have been with the first kind. We pray, anoint the house with oil, ask Christ to cleanse the place, and they go. When they’re around, bad things tend to stir up, but once they meet resistance, they usually leave.

I finished college and seminary. But before I entered ministry, God was also dealing with me deeply on a personal level. I had been in a very bad place — depression, anger, a lot of brokenness. God had to do serious work in me. That included therapy, and I want to be clear about this: just because I believe in spiritual warfare does not mean I reject therapy, science, or medication. I’m strongly pro-therapy. I’m pro-meds when needed. I was on medication for a while, and it helped me break some unhealthy patterns. It worked. God used that too. That season of purification lasted about five years.

During that period, my brother-in-law and sister uncovered some genuine satanic and occult abuse tied into certain families and church circles they had known. There was some very dark stuff there, including abuse. They started trying to expose it and pursue justice, but they were not walking closely with the Lord at the time. They were brilliant and highly scientific people, but still very materialistic in how they approached everything. As they went down that path, they became consumed by it. They talked about it constantly. They tried to organize people and pursue legal action.

I remember going with them to a conference that was actually about creation and related topics — nothing to do with occult abuse — but they talked about that darkness the entire time. While I was there, I started feeling a pressure unlike anything I had felt before. And that’s when things got bad around our house.

While I was away at the conference, our little daughter — she was maybe two at the time — stood at the back door smiling and waving at something out on the porch. My wife couldn’t see anything, but our daughter was clearly responding to something. That was creepy enough. Then I got home, and that night was one of the darkest nights we’ve ever had. My wife and I both independently had the same image impressed on us: a dark, warrior-like figure standing on the back porch, almost like Sauron in black armor out of Tolkien, but worse — colder, heavier, more hateful. We were texting people asking them to pray because it felt like something outside our home absolutely hated us. It never physically attacked us, but the presence was overwhelming.

What was happening was connected to the darkness surrounding my sister and brother-in-law. And I hate to say it, but I think that darkness eventually got them. They are not walking with the Lord now. Their story is theirs to tell, not mine, and maybe one day God will bring them back. I still pray for that.

After that night, we got serious about cleansing the house — prayer, anointing oil, removing anything that might have occult associations, and yes, even bringing in crucifixes, which would have seemed strange to the Baptist version of me that I grew up as. But after enough experiences, you stop caring whether something fits your denomination’s aesthetic and start caring whether it helps you submit the house to Christ.

So that happened while God was bringing me through darkness. One of my struggles was “why am I not in ministry, when I deserve to be in ministry.” Eventually, I had to come to a point where I told the Lord, “If You want me to be a layman, then I will be the best layman I can be.” That was hard for me because I had longed for ministry, but so many doors had closed that I finally surrendered the ambition itself. I said, essentially, “I already have the education. I’ve tried. You’ve shut the doors. So instead of chasing position, I’m just going to serve You where I am.”

Around that time, I had a strange dream. In the dream, there was darkness between where I was and where I needed to go, and an old woman appeared and told me to make the sign of the cross at the demons as I passed through — that they could not overcome it. We made it through in the dream, and I woke up. I’ve had several dreams like that over the years — symbolic, intense, and spiritually charged. I don’t base my life decisions on dreams, but I do pay attention when they seem to confirm something already happening.

Then one day, after about five or six months of living out that surrendered layman posture, I felt strongly that I should text my pastor and ask if I could come pray with him. That felt weird. My church isn’t large — maybe 120 people on a packed Easter — and my pastor was really one of my personal friends. But the prompting wouldn’t go away. So I texted him: “This might sound strange, but I feel like the Lord is telling me to come pray with you. Would that be okay?” We did that a couple of times, and eventually that process helped open the door to a ministerial residency program. That’s another long story, but that’s how the Lord moved.

And as soon as I got accepted into that residency program, the weird stuff started up again in a major way.

Our kids began seeing things in the night. They’d had the occasional bad dream before, but this felt different. One of my children woke up and saw what looked like my wife standing there at bedtime — but with a creepy grin, and it wasn’t her. It was a doppelgänger spirit. We prayed, and it went away, but that kind of thing enrages you as a parent. Leave me alone if you want, but don’t mess with my kids.

Then my wife lost her job, my own job turned toxic, and I eventually had to quit. It all started unraveling right as the ministry door opened.

One especially disturbing experience happened shortly after the residency began. I had gone to the church to pray, and while I was there I felt something sort of “bump” me spiritually. I didn’t think much of it in the moment. That night I had a dream. In the dream I was in some kind of Appalachian lodge talking, for reasons I cannot explain, to George W. Bush. I haven’t thought about that man in years, so his presence in the dream made no sense. Then I left the lodge and walked onto a beautiful spring road in Appalachia — green trees, mountain light, all of it.

Then a woman appeared behind me and began propositioning me sexually. I turned away because I wanted nothing to do with it. As I did, she reached down, grabbed a clump of grass, threw it in the air, muttered some kind of curse, and I physically felt something enter my body — even though I was dreaming. I responded by invoking the name of Yahweh, and in the dream that stopped her. But before I woke up, I felt the curse hit me and then the woman tried to force herself on me. I woke up before anything happened, but the panic that followed was intense. The next day I was a wreck. I nearly quit the residency over it. It took counseling, pastoral care, and time to recover. I’m convinced whatever happened preyed on my anxiety. The “curse” didn’t make me sin; I still had responsibility for how I responded. But it was a brutal experience. To this day, I believe some kind of witchcraft or demonic attack came at me through that dream.

Another time, while practicing the Jesus Prayer — a form of prayer focused on the mercy and lordship of Christ — I had a strange experience. Usually nothing dramatic happens when I pray it. You just pray. But on one occasion, in my mind’s eye, I saw a serpent. It turned toward me and started coming closer. I opened my eyes, startled, then tried to continue praying, and it was still there, coming straight at me. I think it was a Kundalini spirit. I stopped right there. I have no interest in “going deeper” into anything like that. In another prayer experience, I felt what seemed like an invitation into what people might call the astral plane, along with a promise of secret knowledge. I said no immediately. Absolutely not. If anything in prayer offers secret knowledge, spiritual shortcuts, or deeper access apart from humble submission to Christ, the answer is no.

That has been one of the biggest lessons in all of this: Jesus Christ is supreme over every bit of it. Every single time. Even in the times where I panicked, stumbled, or got overwhelmed, Christ still proved Himself stronger. He used even the worst moments for my good in ways I can’t fully explain here.

I’ve also learned that humility and repentance are everything. That’s how you survive. Not spiritual bravado. Not chasing experiences. Not wanting fame, influence, or mystical power. In fact, I think that’s one of the enemy’s favorite traps: let someone have enough spiritual experience to make them proud, and pride will do more damage than fear ever could. These forces are evil, but they are not stupid. They know exactly how to exploit ego.

So the answer is humility, repentance, submission to Christ, submission to wise spiritual authority, and then more humility and more repentance. Over and over again. Nobody likes it. I don’t like it. But that’s the path.

So yes, I’ve had a lot of strange experiences. Some were nuisances. Some were terrifying. Some felt like direct attacks. But none of them have the power to overcome Jesus Christ. None of them. They can harass, tempt, frighten, and confuse, but they cannot dethrone the King.

That’s my story, at least the part of it I can remember right now. There’s more, but that’s enough for one telling.

— Nate Labadorf