The Heart of the Matter – Part Four


Satanic Moles – The Real Weeds in the Wheat Field

When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, the results are very clear: sexual immorality, impurity, lustful pleasures, idolatry, sorcery, hostility, quarreling, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambition, dissension, division, envy, drunkenness, wild parties, and other sins like these.  Let me tell you again, as I have before, that anyone living that sort of life will not inherit the Kingdom of God, (Galatians 5:19-21, emphasis mine).

So far I’ve been writing about believers, brothers and sisters who get off track, but are still His.  But there is something far more sinister going on in the churches.  I believe that some people have deliberately planted themselves into the church, assisted by their coven or satanic church, with the specific goal of infiltrating and destroying the church.  They use witchcraft spells, sorcery (drugs), and their own personal charm to worm their way up through the congregation to ultimately take their place at the pastor’s side.  From there, the final goal is to destroy the church and/or ruin the reputation of the pastor.

These satanic moles are helped by the fact that most Christians don’t want to believe that this stuff is going on at all, much less that it could be going on in their own town, in their own neighborhood—and much, much less that it could be going on in their own church.


My first brush with the satanic was at the age of fourteen, though it really began two years earlier when I first met Toni in junior high.  Toni was in my homeroom class.  She was smart and funny and definitely not one of the popular kids.  Toni was plump, snaggle-toothed, and very irreverent—much like television was becoming.  She used her sense of humor to criticize the popular kids behind their backs.  Together, Toni and I were our own little clique, and to me it felt like a special honor.  It was like being a member of a secret society.  Toni and I had our own slang—a verbal code that we used to put people down to their face without them knowing it.

There was a third member of our group, but Toni really only seemed to accept Virginia into our group so that she could use her.  (I understand this only now, decades later.)  Toni attended a protestant church with her parents, but clearly hated going to church.  I don’t remember the denomination, and it’s really not important.  Toni was fascinated with Virginia’s church, which was the Catholic Cathedral.

Soon after meeting Toni, Virginia and I started getting into trouble.  It started with talking and laughing in class, but progressed into defiance against authority.  This was 1968, when the counter-culture movement was beginning, so we thought we were being cool by defying authority.  We were nonconformist and anti-establishment, just like the rockers we loved so much.  Plus, we lived in a suburb of San Francisco, the epicenter of the counter-culture revolution.

Then Toni added theft to our secret society.  We didn’t steal anything big, and really I only did it once because I hated the way it made me feel.  I believe that’s because I had made a decision for Jesus at the age of twelve, just months before meeting Toni.  The Holy Spirit wouldn’t let me feel good about stealing even a small item.  I really only did it to win points with Toni, so I made it something that I knew would score big with her: I stole a cigarette from a neighbor’s purse one day when we were invited to swim at their house.  The three of us met in the woods, where I presented my crumpled prize.  To my surprise, Toni had a lighter in her purse.  I hadn’t even thought of how to smoke the thing.  So we lit the stolen cigarette.  Toni took a long drag on it like she had been smoking for years.  Then she handed it to me.  I took just a little into my lungs, which immediately rejected the vile smoke.  Toni took the cigarette from my hand while Virginia patted me on the back.  My throat had constricted and my lungs were on fire.  I coughed desperately.  My lungs refused to take in a breath, as though they no longer trusted me.  Toni took another puff, then handed the cigarette to Virginia, who refused it.  Even fighting for breath, with tears in my eyes, I could see the look of disgust on Toni’s face.

As I finally began to breathe again, Toni finished the cigarette and started talking in a very graphic and crude way about what she wanted to do with Virginia’s older brother, Mike.  I knew that she was saying this just to offend Virginia.  It was Toni’s way of telling Virginia to get lost.  Virginia did go home, probably crying the whole way.  But I was transfixed: fascinated and horrified by what I was hearing.  Toni knew more about the mechanics of sex than anyone I knew.  In those days sex education consisted of separating boys from the girls and telling each group about the changes to expect in our growing bodies.  She claimed that she had seen one of her dad’s Playboys.  Now that I think of it, I doubt that a magazine with pictures of naked women could possibly been where Toni had learned some of the things she had told me.

One day, Toni and I went to the town library to get books for a report.  As I scoured the shelves looking for books about Guatemala, Toni approached me with a book she had found.  It was a book full of witchcraft spells.  Toni said that she was going to check it out.  We looked through the book, finding spells and recipes for love potions, curses for enemies, and all sorts of crazy stuff.  I was again both fascinated and horrified.  Then Toni asked me if I wanted to see the house where a witch lived.  I said yes, expecting a dark, gothic house behind a creaky iron fence and overgrown yard.  As we walked, Toni talked about a boy in our class.  She didn’t like him, though I don’t remember why.  Toni didn’t always need a reason for not liking someone.  She called this boy Jewfish and all sorts of other nasty names.  Her code name for him was Fish.  “Yeah,” she said as we walked, “I’m going to put a hex on Fish.  That’ll fix him.”  I didn’t know what a hex was, but I was too embarrassed to ask.  Who knows, but that she might put a hex on me for being dumb.

Why did I hang around with Toni?  I’ve thought about it, and I think I hung around with her because Toni understood my feelings of being a misfit.  Toni made me feel included.  We may have been misfits, but we were misfits together.

Suddenly Toni stopped and announced that this was the witch’s house.  It was nothing at all like I had been picturing.  Instead of a Nightmare on Elm Street, it was a sunny little cottage with a pretty garden full of flowers behind a white picket fence.  “Are you sure?” I asked.  Toni nodded her head.  “You wanna meet her?”  My heart screamed No, but my mouth said, “Sure.”  Toni opened the gate and walked to the front door.  She rang the bell.  To my relief there was no response.  “Ah, she’s probably still at work.”  I blinked a couple of times, “You know her?”  Toni laughed, “Sure!  How do you think I know she’s a witch?  She’s friends with my parents.”  “What kind of work does a witch do?” I wondered aloud.  “She’s a nurse.”  Now my head was spinning.  A nurse is a person who helps people.  So, Toni was telling me that a nurse that lives in a pretty cottage at the top of the hill is a witch.  I decided that she was playing a trick on me to see how gullible I am.

The next day at school, Toni grabbed my hand as I was walking by to get to my next class.  “Did you hear?  Fish had to go home.”  “Why?”  “His glasses broke.”  She fixed me with a look that said that there was more to the story.  “I did it.”  At first I thought that maybe she had lost her temper and punched him—which Toni was capable of doing.  But then Toni would have been sent home, too.  The realization slowly dawned on me that she had cursed him and that had caused his glasses to break.

One day soon after breaking Fish’s glasses with the hex, Toni invited me to her house.  She said that she had something important to tell me.  She led me into the kitchen, turned and announced, “Me and my parents are satanists.”  I felt a strong earthquake inside my own body, and reached for the nearest chair to steady myself as the room tilted violently to the right.  Seeing my reaction, Toni quickly back-pedaled: “Just kidding!” she laughed uncertainly.  “You didn’t think I was serious, did you?”  But I knew that this was not a joke.  I knew that Toni had told me something secret and true.  My spirit’s reaction to the revelation testified to it.  I excused myself and went home.  Soon after that, school ended and my family moved back to Texas.  I never saw Toni again.

Here’s the thing: Toni went to church regularly with her parents.  But they were satanists.  And this was just outside of San Francisco just a few years after Anton Lavey had founded the church of satan there, based on doing everything on that list from Galatians 5:19-21, above.

A Mole in the Church

The idea that there are satanic moles in the church shouldn’t scare us.  But it should make us very vigilant.  They come in with an agenda to weaken and ultimately destroy the church.

I can’t prove anything, because these satanic moles are very careful to keep up the appearance of faithful Christianity.  The Holy Spirit has shown me many clues regarding a certain person in a church I visit often that I strongly suspect of being a witch.  This person has managed to work their way into church leadership, while producing no real fruit in their life.  In fact, the last I heard, the mole was slated to become a pastor.  Meanwhile, the pastor’s marriage has failed after the mole became so close to the pastor and spouse that they were cheek to cheek on the spouse’s social media profile.  Just days later, the spouse left the pastor.  The mole is the same sex as the spouse, so when I noticed that this person was always borrowing and leaving personal items at the pastor’s house, I became alarmed.  In the midst of all this, the church has moved from one location to another, making it very difficult for people to find the church’s current location.

I used to think that I should blow the whistle on the mole.  The problem is that the person is extremely charming, and has made friends throughout the leadership of the church.  The other leaders of the church wouldn’t believe me because they wouldn’t want to believe it of this charming, funny, friendly person.

But the signs are there for anyone with some true discernment:


  • Witchcraft graffiti began appearing on virtually every street corner in the neighborhood where the pastor lived and the church was originally located.
    • I really only noticed it because the Holy Spirit pointed it out to me, reminding me of the little that I knew about witchcraft. I responded by breaking the spirit of witchcraft every place where I saw the graffiti.
  • I saw this person with an Italian language copy of the book He Came to Set the Captives Free, which is the personal account of Dr. Rebecca Brown’s encounters with witches and satanists.
    • When I commented on the book, the person told me: “I used to be involved with witchcraft.” At the risk of sounding nit-picky, most people who have come out of something deeply satanic don’t share this information without adding a word of praise and gratitude to the Lord.    They told me as if sharing some banal piece of information, like the weather.  At the same time, there was real enthusiasm for the book, itself, saying: “I just can’t put it down.”
  • Borrowing and leaving personal items at the pastor’s house is a big sign. The things I saw borrowed were towels, a hair brushes, and a disposable razor—things with the pastor’s DNA on them.
  • I was at a birthday dinner for the pastor’s mother. We all started at the same table, but this person then brought up some “urgent” church business, which the two of them discussed at another table alone.  This is very strange behavior for Italy, where parties and especially mothers are very important.  I have never seen anything like this anywhere, but definitely bizarre behavior for Italy.
  • The biggest sign of all: there is no good fruit in the mole’s life. None at all.  This person has not led one single soul to Christ, has not edified anyone at all in the church (not to my knowledge), and has never even offered to pray for anyone.

I think the mole knows that I know because this person now avoids me like dog-do on the sidewalk.  Like I said, I wanted to blow the whistle on the mole, but I know that I would not be believed.  Besides that, the Holy Spirit has counseled me to pray instead.  So that is what I have been doing.  I asked God how to prayer about this situation.

I pray daily for my churches (here in Milan and in Asheville) and for my pastors and for all my friends who are pastors throughout the rest of Europe and the world.  With regard to satanic plants, I pray that if there are any satanic plants in any of their churches that the mole will make a huge blunder that will unmask their true agenda in the church—and that the pastors and church leadership will heed the revelation and have the courage to take proper action.

Live clean, innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people, (Philippians 2:15).

Going back to the theme of my first post in this series: Projection, we need to be very careful not to project our innocence, integrity, and sincerity onto others, even people in the church.  There are some bad people out there that would love to see all the Christians gone.  Well, when Jesus Raptures us home, we will all be outta here.  I would hate to see what the world is like without Christians.  But then, I won’t be here.  God is good!

One thought on “The Heart of the Matter – Part Four

  1. Pingback: Witchcraft Unveiled | Walking By Faith in Europe

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