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Eyes at the Window...a malevolent encounter on Cape Breton

Does evil exist? Are there such things as devils, fallen angels,
frightening higher order beings?
Is this merely the stuff of myth, legend, folklore?
This is a universal question. Many theories are put forth.
Neuroscientists suggest there is no such thing. All can be pinpointed
in the brain. Mere physiological glitches.
They have yet to quantify the invisible or even give it its due, so they
can hardly be counted as final authorities in the matter. Not much help there...
Psychology deems evil a figment of the imagination. Shakespeare bade Hamlet speak: "For there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."

I would venture to say that just because we do not yet understand a thing,
or understand it properly, does not make it something that can be expunged
or explained away. We must eventually move beyond theoretical 'knowledge'
and seek real experiential knowledge, even if it challenges our way of thinking.
Truth can be an uncomfortable commodity...

I have learned to ask my own questions and forge my own progress when it comes to these issues.
Some of this learning was forced on me by circumstances as you will see
in this story...

This is a personal experience of one such encounter with evil...

Soon after my arrival on Cape Breton Island, I began to experience
a new beginning spiritually.
I had just passed through a terribly difficult experience that had left me
quite broken. I needed real and serious help.
Psychology, as well as religion, had failed me too many times.
They fell short of being able to deal with the kind and magnitude
of problems I'd been presented with...

Since childhood, I had felt the presence of the unseen and felt a compelling need
to engage the Divine. But I made the mistake early on of handing the reins
to outside authorities, as we are almost universally taught to do.

At this stage of my life, I needed a new beginning...a more trustworthy
and valid engagement. Psychology was too narrow, answers too trite
and formulaic. The emptiness of Catholicism, the confusion and lax standards of Protestantism had left me without vital answers and help, barring a few individuals who seemed to have made a connection that actually worked.

I was on the run after escaping from my 1st husband...a troubled and violent preacher's kid. He was a study in contrasts...God-obsessed and depraved, charming and deadly, gifted, tormented...larger than life.
A hard first lesson...

I fled across Canada from the west coast to the east coast.
I settled on Cape Breton where I was able to elude him for a time.
In the quiet and kindly atmosphere of Cape Breton, I started over.
It was there that I began, not only to heal, but to experience what can only
be described as 'spiritual Reality'.
I started over with a Bible and the Holy Spirit as my guide, setting aside
the confusion and clamor of competing denominations.
There was much to unlearn, not only in the systems I'd been schooled in,
but in myself, as well.
I, like many others, had my preferences for how I wanted things to be.
One of those things had to do with the existence of evil...
I recoiled from the very thought of it. Even though and perhaps because,
I had encountered evil in various forms since childhood, I wanted to deny
its existence with every fiber of my being.
That is the preference of many...

There were times when, as a child, my parents flew into frequent uncontrollable rages. I could feel an icy and insane fury fill the room, swirl around
and gather force. A hellish tornado trying to take me over as it had them.
It took all my strength to resist. It was unbelievably terrifying.
I somehow knew that if I were to allow myself to get swallowed up by
that murderous rage, there would be no return.

Then, in my 20's, when I was married to the dangerous preacher's son,
a larger, more frightening chapter unfolded.
It was not uncommon for his moods to vacillate wildly.
He could be charming one moment and deadly the next.
I often felt a terrible presence that grew in intensity as he flew into
yet another homicidal rage.
His face would darken, he felt larger than life, he became evil, cunning,
but the most telling sign was the change in his eyes.
There was no natural explanation for what I witnessed again and again.
He was a red-head with pale blue-eyes.
When he was taken over by that 'thing', his eyes would turn from blue
to glittering, featureless black in an instant.
He had superhuman strength, he emitted a murderous energy and acrid smell.
His energy derailed my ability to think, speak or react.
That aspect, coupled with a strange religiosity was completely disorienting.
He tried to take my life on numerous occasions when in that state.
When he came back to himself, he would cry and beg for forgiveness.
As time went on, these episodes were more frequent and violent.
We ran out of options and I was finally forced to flee.

By the time I finally made my escape, I was quite devastated.
Much of the pain and damage had to do with religion...
'Wives, submit to your husbands','till death do us part', etc.
Religion that was powerless and focused on all the wrong things...

Though I hardly felt up to the task, I needed to understand what
I'd been through. I needed to sort truth from pious fiction and find
something workable.
After all I'd been through, it had become a necessity.
How much of what I had been taught was true? Was any of it true?
What about good and evil?

It was at that point that I began to feel the stirrings of something real
and wholesome. I made my way forward tentatively at first,
but I slowly began to find my footing.
In the quiet atmosphere of the place, I was able to think
and to hear and heal in ways that were not possible before.
My agitation eased.
I connected with nature and then I connected with the Source.
I was to find that Cape Breton was a very potent place...

Even as I asked for the truth regarding evil...some sort of proof
or guidance, I was personally reluctant to admit the existence of evil...
even worse, the personification of evil...a literal devil.
I wanted evil to be an outmoded, ridiculous fiction.
I wanted a world of positivity and mental control over such notions.
It was too near and palpable in my memory.
The question lingered despite my attempts to disregard it and focus
on other things.
I slowly came to the conviction that facing truth was more valuable
than keeping my head in the sand.
Not only more valuable, but more likely to keep me alive, as well.
I had been badly battered by those energies.
I would have to confront the reality of things.
My lessons had already begun...

This is the first of several experiences...a pivotal one.
There were others which will be written up shortly, but this one stands alone
for its impact and effect...

Eyes at the window...
I was living in an old farm house out in the country.
The house bore the nickname of 'la maison sur la butte'...the house on the hill.
A scant handful of neighbors homes were visible from my house.
A single dirt lane led to the house, making it easy to see any approaching visitors. Having lived in towns all my life, the quiet and dark of the country
took some getting used to. The nights were so dark, but the stars were magnificent, as was the shining sea in moonlight.
Little by little, I began to realize I was safe out there by myself.
No bogey-men, no stalkers, no wild animals venturing down from the hills.

It was here that I began to have some strange spiritual/paranormal experiences.
First there were episodes of sleep paralysis. Teaching dreams. A waking vision.
I found myself becoming increasingly sensitive and intuitive.
As I studied the Scriptures, I would feel a guiding presence over my shoulder.
My understanding was being opened up. I was having a very different encounter from what I'd had in churches.
I began to experience a powerful loving Being...a being that would suddenly make its presence known in a certain place in my room every few days.
This Being was orchestrating my healing in the most profound way.
There were many very powerful experiences...very positive ones to this point.

One night, I had finished up in the kitchen, banked the wood stove for the night and was headed to bed.
As I passed by one of the windows, I was stopped dead in my tracks by the terrifying sight of two hotly glowing red orbs...frightening, unearthly eyes.
I froze in fear. The eyes were not human, neither were they animal.
They were intensely focused on me, intelligent.
I could not breathe or move in any way for an undetermined length of time.
I could make out the large dark shape of its body, black against the blackness
of the night. It fixed me in its powerful glare with indescribable malice.
Its eyes were pure malevolence. Like all hells rolled into one.
It beamed a current of incredibly personal hatred at me.
I shuddered at the intensity...feeling its everlasting hatred in every cell.
It was ferocious, ravaging, devouring...otherworldly.
The personal nature of the hatred as well as the intensity of it shook me deeply.
It was a startling wake-up call to the realities of the unseen.
Never before had I encountered or even imagined that such evil existed.

Never again would I doubt the reality of evil...

At some point, the being suddenly vanished and the horrible ordeal was over.
It never occurred again, thankfully, though I would have other experiences
of the dark side in the coming months.

In the years that followed, I was to see how evil had taken hold in that community and how bitterly my presence would be fought...

I was never able to assign a natural explanation to the thing in the window. Every possibility was painstakingly ruled out.
This experience altered my understanding of reality...
We always wonder if such a thing as a devil exists...
I knew that night that it is a terrifying reality.
It caused me to take the dark side of life much more seriously.
In our modern world, it is nearly impossible to imagine these things.
We chalk them up to superstition and hysteria.
But I have found many people, young and old, from all over the world who
have had these experiences.
They have buried them out of fear or for lack of someone to talk to.
I hope that these stories help create an atmosphere of openness and support
where people can learn to deal with these aspects in a useful way...

Comments and questions can be sent to Debra via email: skydancer@ij.net

Debra Robinson
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