How Jesus rescued a New Age psychic from spiritual darkness.
I grew up on Long Island, New York, as part of an Italian and culturally Catholic family. Christmas for me was mainly about Santa Claus, antipasto, and pretty lights on houses. I had no faith in Jesus Christ whatsoever, and attending church wasn’t usually on the agenda.
Even at a very young age, I was aware of the spiritual realm. At home, there was lots of conversation about ghosts—how they would play with the lights and knock things off the shelves. My sister told me about the time her pals got together and used an Ouija board, assuming it was an innocent game. The girls asked the board who among them would die first, and they got an answer. Not long after, the girl in question died of suicide.
I was only 12 when I started receiving what felt like psychic attacks. I had two dreams that included predictions about events that ended up happening. These premonitions were nothing profound, but they were certainly very creepy.
The door to demons was thrown wide open when, at age 13, I had my first experience with tarot cards: a private 15-minute session with an (allegedly) expert reader and her cardboard cards, full of weird pictures. The reading left me intrigued. I didn’t understand how a perfect stranger could know so much about me. I began seeking out more readings and eventually getting my own tarot cards.
My sister and I started performing tarot readings for each other. It was so addictive, like eating potato chips. Throughout my teens, I delved into other divination tools like numerology charts, astrology charts, angel cards, and runes.
But the further I went down that road, the more it seemed demons were surrounding me. At the time, I wouldn’t have known to call them demons, but I experienced so many …
