Stand Still. I Love You: A True Story Of Angels, Demons, And Jesus
By Robin Davis
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This riveting true story follows the life of a modern-day exorcist and her encounters with angels, demons, and Jesus. It takes you on a fascinating and sometimes terrifying journey through the minefields of her profession and her inspiring transformation from atheist to exorcist. Robin wrote this book as a sort of demon survival guide for anyone out there who needs help and to bring people closer to Jesus.
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Stand Still. I Love You - Robin Davis
Stand Still. I Love You
A True Story Of Angels, Demons, And Jesus
Robin Davis
ISBN 978-1-64191-831-2 (paperback)
ISBN 978-1-64191-832-9 (digital)
Copyright © 2018 by Robin Davis
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.
Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
832 Park Avenue
Meadville, PA 16335
www.christianfaithpublishing.com
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
About the Author
To God
Jesus
And the Holy Spirit
And to Mother Mary
Archangel Michael
Archangel Raphael
St. Francis
St. Germaine
And St. Anthony
With eternal gratitude
Prayer of Peace—St. Francis of Assisi
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; for it is in giving that we receive. It is in pardoning that we are pardoned. And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Prologue
I was an atheist for almost half my life, and now I cannot imagine life without Jesus. I wrote this book to make people aware not only that there is a God but that this God knows and loves you beyond comprehension. Every word of this book is true. It is not happening in my mind, and I am not imagining it. I have only changed names and some locations to protect the privacy of my characters.
Enjoy! God bless!
Robin
Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take a stand against the devil's schemes.
—Ephesians 6:11
Chapter One
Ialways knew that the world was full of magic. I think most children do. Kids go to see Harry Potter , and they want to be wizards. They want to triumph over evil and have special powers, but then they forget. This world makes them forget.
When I was growing up, Harry Potter had not been invented yet, but I knew there was another world out there, a world that was just as real as you and me but was hidden from view. I wanted to study this world. I wanted to be a parapsychologist (someone who studies the supernatural).
As a young girl, I spent most of my time catching frogs and climbing trees. I wore my long auburn hair in pigtails, and I was definitely what you would call a tomboy. My younger brother, Buddy, was my best friend. He had blond hair and the crazy kind of blue eyes that make you feel as if the person has one foot in another universe. We did everything together.
When I wasn't outdoors exploring the neighborhood, I was practicing my violin. Buddy and I both went to a pretty serious music conservatory named Long Ridge. All students were expected to practice a minimum of two hours daily! It was a real commitment, but I loved it. Buddy played violin as well, but there was no competition between us. We also both played guitar and sang. We always practiced right before dinner.
I was the only vegetarian in the family. I became a vegetarian because I love animals. This drove my mother crazy because she had to make a separate meal for me. She tried to break my will by alternating between the same two meals for two years! One night she would give me baked beans on toast, and the next she'd serve me baked potatoes with melted cheese on top, but I was determined. I never gave in. She finally accepted that I was not going to change.
The house my family lived in was haunted. Buddy and I knew this, but our parents did not believe us. It was an old colonial built before the Civil War, and it was set back from the street behind a huge stone wall. There were doors that slammed by themselves, the sounds of footsteps with no one there, and lots of other supernatural activity. Buddy got thrown across the basement by a dark shape and cracked his head against a window.
There was a ghost that liked to terrorize me in my bedroom by making all the shades on my windows snap up suddenly one after the other, until all seven shades were up at the top of the windows. I told this to a neighbor friend of mine because I couldn't tell my parents.
She said, You have to tell them to go to the Light. Tell them they are dead and they don't belong here anymore.
So I stood in the middle of my room in my nightgown the next night, and I whispered, Go to the Light. You have to go to the Light. Please. You do not belong here.
They never bothered me again.
On Sundays, my dad would take Buddy and me to church, and then we would come home to my mom, who would say that there was no God. My parents were high school sweethearts and have never been with anyone else. My brother believed in God, but I was more in my mother's camp. I felt that God was like Santa Claus—a really nice idea, but I was too grown up to believe in him. It never dawned on me that not believing in God but believing in ghosts could be seen as paradoxical.
My relationship with my parents was OK until I went away to boarding school and got suspended for having my boyfriend in my room with me. My parents took my horse away as a punishment and sold him to someone else, but he was returned to me because no one wanted him. Sultan was an ex-racehorse, with a white blaze on his nose and four white socks on his feet, and he was as fast as the wind, and I loved him. Pretty much no one could ride him but me. I rarely talked to my parents much from school after that.
Ironically, at the end of the school year, Sultan went nuts, galloping at full speed in a tiny ring, and I had to do an emergency dismount, which ended up with me flying into a fence with no hard hat on at about thirty-five miles per hour! That would be like falling out of a moving car and hitting your head on the bare concrete. I was in pretty bad shape, having suffered a severe head injury. I could have died!
After this brush with death, death became a lot more real to me. I was terrified of going to sleep because I was afraid I would never wake up again. I would think of that quote by Edgar Allen Poe: Sleep. Those little slices of death. How I loathe them.
I would lie in bed at night until the sun began to come up, and I rarely slept more than a couple of hours a night. When I did sleep, I had horrible recurring nightmares where I would wake up screaming and wake up half the girls in my dorm.
The nightmares were about Jesus, and they were always the same. I would be looking at the statue of Jesus that is on the mountaintop in Rio de Janeiro. In my dream, it started out as a beautiful sunny day, and then the sky would get very dark, and Jesus would turn and point his finger at me with a look that said You are going straight to hell,
and blood would start coming out of his eyes, and I would wake up screaming in terror.
It was strange that I dreamed about Jesus being