Tick Tock
13He has delivered us from the power of darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love, 14in whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins. (Colossians 1:13-14 NKJV)
Less than a week after the jackknifed truck experience, the second of three strange and unique experiences took place. These experiences were different from anything that we had experienced with the House at the end of the Driveway. First, they took place away from the House and the Driveway. Second, the intensity level seemed to be ratcheting up. Third, these experiences involved family and friends that had nothing to do with the House or the Driveway. Finally, they felt personal. It gave us the feeling that we were being chased.
The key “player” in this experience particular was an old alarm clock, one of those round clocks with a couple of little bells on the top. This particular alarm clock had been busted into multiple pieces during a time of rough housing, months before this event. As guys tend to do, the broken pieces were simply shoved under Craig’s bed, left there, and long forgotten.
This event started, for me, with a late-night phone call. Remember, this was long before cell phones, and the closest phone to my room was right next to my mom’s room and I can assure you that she was not too happy to be woken up!
The voice on the other end of the phone was Craig’s, and the first words spoken were, “Come over now! The alarm clock is going off!” My response seemed simple enough, “Turn it off”. “You don’t understand”, Craig said, “It’s the broken one that we tossed under my bed. You need to get over here now!” So, off to Craig’s I went.
The first thing that I noticed when I arrived was that Craig, his mother, his father, and his sister were all standing out in the front yard. Their expressions were that of shock and confusion. Getting out of my truck I could hear the alarm clock, and I knew that I needed to go check it out.
The combination of young, dumb, and bold is not always the best combination. But at that moment, my only thought was to go into Craig’s room and see how this busted and broken alarm clock could possibly be ringing. Again, this was not a well thought out plan.
What happened next, looking back several decades later, was a seminal moment. Craig’s father took Craig and I aside and told us that what we had been dealing with was a spiritual battle, not a physical one. He prayed for us, and we proceeded to go into the garage, and then up the half flight of stairs into the house. With each step, the sounding of the alarm grew louder and louder, and you could feel a thickness of fear in the air.
I wish I could say that we heeded the words of Craig’s father, but we didn’t. We heard his words, but it wasn’t until years later that we began to fully understand what he was trying to tell us. I have come to understand that what we were dealing with at the House and the Driveway was a spiritual battle that we were not prepared to fight. I am thankful that God’s hand of protection was on us during this time.
Now, back to that alarm clock!
Approaching Craig’s room that evening was one the most surreal moments in my life. I knew that the alarm clock was broken, yet I could clearly hear it. I could hear the alarm sounding, strong and steady. What’s more, I could hear, and feel, the second hand as it rhythmically clicked off each separate second.
Standing in the doorway, staring at the floor under Craig’s bed the “tick tock” of the clock seemed to be getting louder and faster. I honestly don’t know how long we stood in the doorway. What I do know is that the fear was so thick that you could feel it.
The moment we stepped into the room the “tick tock” of the clock stopped. Shocked and scared, we knew that we had to look. Too scared to kneel down and look under the bed, we choose instead to flip the bed back against the wall. And there it was, the broken pieces of the alarm clock laying on the floor, with a layer of dust, laying right where they had been pushed several months before.
We quickly picked up the broken pieces, put them in a small trash can, and took them to the garbage bin in the garage. As we were shutting the garbage bin we heard, and felt, the same voice we’d heard the first time we walked on the Driveway, telling us to “Leave now”. This time, the voice said, “We know where you live”.
Come back next time for The Encounter.
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