A big confession first of all.
Ever since I was a small child, maybe this is a gift, maybe a curse by the devil.
I can see or feel the unsee-able.
And i can ensure you, that is not a small child hallucination of ghost or stuffs.
I can clearly see, and sometime even hear voice from invisible thingies.
It was a sunny day on Sunday during my 6 year age.
We just moved to the new house, since my Dad received his inheritance in a form of his siblings petitioned their inheritance to bought him a house.
The house near the sea shore, the adress is Ujung Belakang Olo, 17a, Padang city.
The house of my childhood, the house of witness of nearly six year of abusive beatings from my dad, or his abusing my mother, or sister.
The house that one day blocked by a drunken fisherman that entered the premises and sleep right in front of the front door, shocked my grandma to near death as she opened the door because of his knocking on the door.
That caused me late for almost 3 hours to my 4th year elementary class, since we need to wait for the police to come and handle the situation.
The house where one day, around 300 metre radius from it premise, one day a mentally-ill person that lived as a homeless decide to suicide by drowning himself on the shore. The news shooked the neighboring fisherman community because the returning fisherman found his body floating away back to the sandy shore.
The house where during the riot of '98, the scattering rioters that tried to rob the nearing grocery store, failed in doing so, and got hit by tear gas, scattering away, and one rioter hide near the house premise.
To return to the story, sorry that I got hooked in past nostalgia for a sec there.
And so, the small me at that time, when we just moved, is still ignorant toward how the world moves, saw, a small bill of Rp 1.000 right in front of our house fence, folded into a small rectangular.
At that time, the year is 1995, before my first sister born.
And that amount of money, perhaps can be turned into at least 30 pieces of candy.
As I crouch my body to grab the money from behind the fence.
This particular voice resounded in my ear.
"Don't take the money, something is wrong with it."
The ignorant me, confused, but still listened to the somewhat a gentle woman-like voice.
At that time, i thought that perhaps is the voice of my guardian angel, or some kind of good spirit.
There is this one particular way in traditional witchcraft, of doing harm by throwing money, it's done by someone that try to gain richness using witchery, or pact with a demon to gain wealth.
Those kind of doing, usually needed a toll, usually the child of the person asking for wealth pact, or another, usually did by purposely drop money that had been enchanted on the crowd, and wait for a small kids to grab it.
I never really know about whether the money in this particular case is enchanted or not, but the warning voice is very vivid and persisting, but I basically ignored the tempting at least 30 piece of candy money.
As I grow older, that kind of occurence come to me several other time in many kind of ways.
When I got hit by the travel bus, something happened in a split second after my head hit the bus bumper, ensuring my body secure under the passing bus or before something specific happened, or some winning lottery number after a relative passed away, and many other kind of not easily explained matters.
As you know, I was phisicaly abused my my dad, and being emotionally neglected by my mom.
Maybe it's my escapism mechanism, that I somewhat grow an inkling toward the unknown, about magic and stuffs.
As I grow, that kind of 'gift' grows with me.
And I begin to vividly able to see and dreams of stuffs that is yet to happen.
Somekind of déjà vu, or stuffs similar.
It was 2002, in my junior high year, we moved to Jakarta after my dad beating my mom, resulting her run-away from home and moved to other city, not once but twice.
First to Pekanbaru, and then she was caught by my dad, and after some discussion, she decided to move back with us again, it's 2001, and during December, she got hit again, and run away for half a year until around May, to Jogja, where she tutor english with a low salary.
My first sister, Fionna was brought with her, in both occasions, but not me.
Me being desperate of abandoned, was tossed to and fro from on relatives to another.
And my dad?
He went to work to another city, leaving me to my fate with those relatives.
Our house were empty for nearly a a year, but this particular thing caught my attention, when I visited the house.
My mother unwashed clothes were nailed to the wall, and every night, my dad light an oil lamp in front of the clothes.
He told me, that he lay a visit to a shaman or local witchcraft doctor in the other town he work in, the "smart man, or in Indonesian: orang pintar, the local saying for such occupation person"
Told him to did suchs, and my dad also said, that there will be some time you will felt some thightened feeling or small pains in your chest, as a way of making your mom return home. That is what he told me, not a single letter removed.
I didn't now, whether it's just me, being the sacrificial lamb for such witcheries act or what, but yep, I really felt something along the way like that, even before I found out about all of those stuffs.
From that point on, I took dealings into my own hand.
Albeit being Christian, I never went to church, my parents are legalistic christian, but not a good parents in bringing their child toward God.
So, the magic inclined me, goes to the Taoist temple, beginning some worship and stuffs, and such stone carvings that I offered incenses, came to me in dream, and from then on, the rolling wheel of idiocy was set on the road.
2002, we moved to Jakarta, after dad and mom reunited, by the aid of his siblings. He got 11 siblings anyway, 2 lives in another country, and at least 6 other in Jakarta.
4 of them help the discussion to pursue my mom to get back together with my dad.
So, I am in Jakarta then.
One day, my bookworm young me, found this book, which titled "Seni Ilmu Hitam"or"The Art of the Dark Magic" in a well known bookstore in one mall near my place.
Such mysterious book about forbidden stuff which never will be sold normally for such bookstore with initial "G"
I spend some good hours reading the book, that somehow only that one of a kind in the whole shelf, and finished most of it, and return home.
2 days later I returned to that same bookstore, bringing money with intention to buy the book, but that book is nowhere to be found.
I am sure it isn't a dream.
But the book contain sigils of demons or pentagrams and other scribblings, then all the know how-to for rituals and many other stuff.
Which, I idiotly practiced ever since my 13 years of age,
About those things about I can percept the invisible and other being not perceiveable by normal eyes,
We called then intuition, but they called it mind eye, which for me, is already long opened from birth, so I quickly gain my way for that idiot ways.
Is it make believe? Or do I get clear result?
Simply answering, yes.
Beside that, in my old junior high, a Catholic school, which combined with senior high building.
The bookworm me, always spend lunch breaks in library, the senior high's library, more serious and hard material book to read.
One particular book.
"Bela diri dengan indra keenam" or " self-defence with the sixth sense"
Is one of them, that I read completely.
So maybe my fate or just the twisted and sickening way the devil snares.
I know the new age way of magic, the satanist magic, the taoist eastern magic, and the mental discipline of mind cultivating from buddhist principle.
Those plentiful bounty set me in stone to pursue useless junks and idiocy. I grow arrogant in my own way of behaving, and somehow felt detached from the norm of societies.
You might not be able to imagine how horrible the things that I done at that darkest days.
That, until when I am late 15, where this lost Josh finally met Jesus. Where God make way for himself to enter the stage and saves me from ruin.
A friend brought me to church, and for the first time, I really touched strike to my core, and repents.
But the knowledge stayed in me, and sure I must repent to you, my reader, there will be time I am tempted trully to incline to my darkest past.
Sure, you might be thinking that magic is some placebo and make belief way of ancient people to cope with their dumb old ways. They were some silly old wives tale.
But, I just reminded just now.
My Buddhist aunt, right before mom left home in 2001, a year back, the year 2000, it was summer break, she convinced my dad, my so called Christian parents.
To let me joined their son to go in a retreat, a Buddhist novice monkhood retreat for 2 weeks.
So he did, and I went with them, me and my cousin got shaved and accepted as a novice monk, I even still remember how to chant in Pali till this day, and sure from that day constantly meditate.
First the Buddhist way of meditating, and from the next year when I learn from the taoist temple, another kind of how-to.
As I grow into adulthood, albeit being Christian, a born again, and even went to Theological seminary, I cannot help but notice about certain new knowledge about the art of the mindfulness, I knew about Yoga, or tai-chi, although didn't put the knowledge into practice.
Once in a while still meditate, although with no purpose in any way of doing magic or stuff.
It just help me clear my mind from problems about home.
Even my thesis in final year of college is about "enthusiasm" although be it about how Christians felt enthusiastic in worship, but I did mentioned about history of enthusiasm phenomena in other beliefs, like the usage of psychedelics in other tribal religion, like peyote for shamanistic rituals in native american, or the usage of frank-incense or myrh by Jew in the Old Testament, and stuffs, about half of it is not a new knowledge to me, since I did some kind of similar form in my teenage years.
So, let me close this conclusion.
Do I still practice magic, like I confessed to you?
Black magic, no.
But my dealings with the past deed, has their own cost.
My health and wellbeing.
Does blood of Jesus broke the curse of witchcraft and devil pacts?
In a way, yes. You didn't go to hell, that is, if you fervently repent.
But the cost my youthful idiocy, has long took their tolls in my body.
I had an ailments, known by the name of hyperthyroidism, even long way, in my early teens years.
One uncle of mine, from my mother side, during 2001, is staying in one of the relative that I was entrusted with. At that time, he study medicine, preparing to be a doctor.
In 2019, he did mentioned that he notices my condition, early signs of hyperthyroid he said, albeit never really tested in lab.
The same year, even way before early shown signs of it, I begin to dip my fingers in the way of the occult.
Price to pay?
Breathing is hard for me, tremor shaking is a nonstop norm
I get tired easily, agitated easily, get annoyed by everything, and I sometime notice that my heart stopped beating for several beat, not because I am in love of some novelties.
(I tried to make the air lighter by that crappy joke btw, don't mind me)
But yes, as days went by, albeit I took medications, but the symptoms not really subsides.
I know one day, in a way or another, this idiocy of me will cost me my life, albeit it's just some couple of years.
Well, I am tired...
I know that God is faithful, be it here now or later in eternity.
So, here I am, pacing my days, a single small step at a time. In God's faithfulness and mercy.
I know one thing for sure.
Be it now, be it later,
Everyone is going to stop breathing.
But one thing and one thing only, is the most important way of living.
The Lord's way.
So, I wait in the Lord and hope in His mercy and promises.
Like Polycarp, the disciple of John the apostle of Jesus.
When he was dragged by the Romans to be sentence to death by stabbings and burning at the stake.
He said thus,
"Eighty and six years I have served Him, and He has done me no wrong. How, then, could I blaspheme the King who saved me?"
I first read his story in the book about martyrs in seminary, and from that day, those quotes has encourage me to life my days, and abandoning my old wicked ways of past idiocy.
Yes, until this day, that same intuitive curse is still with me.
But no, I never wishes nor hope to return to my past wrongdoing.
Be they tempted me so much with a juicy looking apple yet rotten core.
So here I stand, proclaiming Jesus has been faithful to me, and He is my sole Saviour, He had clothed my shameful nakedness of soul, and He renewed my heart so I can begin to reciprocate His love, and learn to love Him.
I abdicate my flesh willings and choose to lived in a selibacy way, purely because I realised how the way I think and how I perceive the world has turned slow but sure, in a drastic sense.
No I never seen angels nor there any opened heaven moments, but,
Yes, I did heard voices, I believe deeply was God's
And in many ways or another, He has made Himself known to me, and He convinced me so much so, that I felt His presence in many forms and ways.
So, yes, I am a Christian, a truly born again, still struggling with my sins and daily need of a forgiveness from God, but in all that matters, I pursue my personal holiness, a life of purity, be in in my mind, spoken or doings.
I am not some kind of saints of wannabees hypocrite, but I confess albeit I fall and struggle in many time, but I hope God in His mercy and patience just like how the Theophany of Jesus bared with the clinging clutch of the struggling Jacob whole night long.
I too hope that God will be patient too with me, waiting me to finally fulfill the truest purpose of my life calling. And with His Mercy, sustain my heart so I might follow him. Each passing day, each single step, each tears and sweat, blood and pain, each rocky cliff, each low valley.
That He, my God, will be with me. Always ..
