NOTE: There are no copies left. It will become available on Amazon soon. I’ll announce it online then. Many thanks for your patience!

 A Spiritual Quest by Laura Maxwell.

 

This testimony-based novel, contains some details of events Mum, our friends and I experienced within the New Age and Occult. It also contains some wonderful biblical spiritual encounters, very different from what we experienced in Spiritualism.

As it’s self published, it’s only available directly from me, not yet on Amazon, etc! If you’d like to order a copy of my book A Spiritual Quest, please contact me on laura.maxwell@protonmail.com

Andrew Goodwin kindly made this video review of my book. Andrew has been a guest on Revelation TV.

Please read FREE Sample Chapters and more Reviews of the book below!

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Reviews for Laura Maxwell’s book ‘A Spiritual Quest’ :

“As the daughter of a witch mother and stage hypnotist father, I know from personal experience the difficulties of dealing with the occult. Laura Maxwell’s excellent partially autobiographical ‘A Spiritual Quest’ will bring hope to many with its Christian message. Laura is an excellent speaker and writes with heart felt emotion about the dangers of the Occult from personal experience. I recommend her book.”

By Pamela Strange, Author of ‘Daddy’s Little Spy : Isabella Rose,’ UK
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“There was a reason that I sought out Laura Maxwell as a contributing author for Dancing with the Devil; she is the real deal! She loves Jesus Christ and her fruit proves it. This book is a moving read; I literally could not put it down. You need to read this book because A Spiritual Quest will strengthen you in your spiritual journey. You will walk away from this book rejoicing in Who Jesus Christ is.”

By Jeff Harshbarger, USA TV Preacher & author of books ‘Dancing with the Devil ‘ and ‘From Darkness to Light.’
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“A Spiritual Quest by Laura Maxwell is a profoundly moving and realistic account of searching for spiritual reality … and the dangers involved. From Scotland, Laura knows first hand that everything that glitters is not gold in the paranormal realm. Once I started, I could not put it down … most gifted word-smith! With literary artistry, she conveys the agony and ecstasy of one woman’s quest for spiritual reality . You can almost feel the sheer panic and horror of the moment of discovery and decision to not be demonically deceived anymore….but with seemingly no where to turn for protection and liberation. In the final analysis, one comes away saying, “What a wonderful God we have!” It is truly a remarkable book. While reading, and when done, it drove me to my knees in joy-filled worship. The Lord has anointed your writing in a profound way … Thank you for rekindling a fire to reach as many as possible who are oppressed.”

By Mark Hunnemann, Deliverance Minister and Author of ‘Seeing Ghosts Through God’s Eyes,’ USA.
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“The front cover states it is based on true events & to that extent it deserves inclusion on the shelves of Christian bookshops. It also presents a clear & rather chilling warning of the dangers of becoming drawn into Spiritualist meetings & activity. The whole topic is one which has to be treated very warily & I have never felt I had any insight into it. However, I found the book easy to read & indeed something of an eye opener into what goes on in Spiritualist circles. Laura Maxwell deserves to be congratulated on her achievement.”

By ‘Book Review’ by W. Burns Shearar, WordWise, Autumn issue, p11, The Scottish Fellowship of Christian Writers.
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“Laura Maxwell’s very moving testimony can be found on http://www.reachouttrust.org and click under Testimonies. Laura told WordWise that she wrote the novella as an evangelistic tool to reach New Agers and Spiritualists. The front cover is such as would attract them to the book and she has heard of people being saved through reading it. It has also been of help to Christians in understanding and witnessing to them. Laura is called on to speak at Churches and on radio and TV. Please pray for Laura in her witness for the Lord.”

‘About Laura Maxwell’ by Diana Lynch, WordWise, Autumn issue, p12, The Scottish Fellowship of Christian Writers.
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“I am absolutely honoured to write an endorsement for your book. This is a very powerful story of the reality of the existence of the Devil. If anyone has any doubts about the dangers of involvement in Occult practices, you must read this. Having my own involvement with demonic influences before my conversion, I can testify to the truth in what is being said. The author bears witness to our Lord Jesus Christ being our only hope and Saviour from the snares of Satan. A fantastic read.”

By Tina Storey, Former Tarot Card Reader, UK.
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I read Laura’s book and found some similarities to my own story. I’m thankful to GOD for delivering her from evil. It’s very easy to be deceived by satan and his demons, this is why It’s so important to know the Word of GOD. Laura’s book is very well written, but very disturbing and tragic as well. I’m so happy for her that she is being used by GOD to help free others who are caught in this web of deception. I’m honored to call Laura Maxwell my friend and my sister in Jesus Christ.  Laura is a very blessed woman. GOD delivered her from a life of darkness and is working through her to help lead many back to HIM through Jesus Christ. Laura is a gifted speaker and author, who always uplifts and inspires others. I strongly endorse her and I’m blessed to know her.

By Bill Bean, Author of ‘Dark Force’ and ‘Delivered.’ USA
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“Such a fantastic book, full of truth, encouragement and is bound to teach you something you didn’t know about the dangers of Spiritualism/New Age Movement and the only true solution which is to accept the salvation Jesus Christ paid for when He died on the cross for us. Get a copy, get 2, 3 or ten. God can and will use this powerful story to touch the lives of many trapped in bondage and under the deception of darkness that affects every section of society. Really I want to be clear and encourage everyone to read this book.”

By Andrew Goodwin, as seen on Revelation TV.
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“A compelling and startling semi-autobiographical account of life as a Medium’s daughter, revealing the true nature of the psychic realm.”

By Joyce Kirkup, Author of ‘Waylaid by God,’ UK
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“I only put the book down yesterday to eat, drink and go shopping. I was most especially happy to discover that your mother had called on Jesus and is in heaven. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the book. It’s a gift to the Christian world because too often Western Christians discount the reality of the unseen. It’s encouraged me again to appreciate the reality of the unseen realm and most importantly, to understand the faithfulness and the Supremacy of our Lord Jesus.”

By Deborah Shah, Former user of Transcendental Meditation, UK.
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“As a Christian, Laura has tremendous insight into the spiritual realm. Her book about diabolical manifestations is very informative. I would encourage people to read her writings in order to understand the reality of the power of Christ over evil spirits.”

By Raj Samuel, retired teacher of Theology.

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“I feel so honoured to have received one of the first copies of your book. It is a truly wonderful and moving piece of literature. It is just wonderful, insightful, thought provoking, heart-wrenching, and thoroughly genuine. As I was reading it, it was as if I could see the actual things happening – as if I was a part of your story – taking me on a journey into the realness not just of hell but of heaven. And seeing the power of God working through His children, and standing by “Lisa” as she spoke to the youth who wanted her death, still sharing the love of Christ. I know this will help the ones who are imprisoned and also the ones sitting on the fence, not wanting to make a decision either way. I pray God opens doors for you, bringing sight to the blind, releasing the captives, breaking the ties that bind, also, thank you for being so open and vulnerable, allowing the Holy Spirit to move so mightily through you. We are over-comers by the Blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony. Christ’s Light will always shine brightly in any darkness.”

By Pastor Debra Lawrence, USA.

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See below for FREE Sample Chapters of my book A Spiritual Quest.

Based on True Events. © 2009 – Laura Maxwell, BA (Hons). The rights of L. Maxwell to be identified as author, has been asserted by her in accordance with the UK Copyright Service. This edition, printed June 2012.

‘A Spiritual Quest’, Registered with the UK Copyright Service, UK©CS. Filed at the Legal Deposit Office, The British Library, Wetherby, England. All rights reserved.

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To all those on a spiritual quest. This was written especially for you.

Chapter One

Hungry for the supernatural, we visited Spiritualist Churches, New Age
Centres and Psychic Fayres all over Scotland. Mediums sometimes picked
us out of the audience and made predictions over our future.
When my mother was younger, she saw an international Medium at the
Glasgow Pavilion.
She gave a message to my mum. “You are a Sensitive, my dear. Such a
strong aura encircles you. You’ve studied Reincarnation and Reiki for years,
haven’t you?”
Mum smiled in agreement.
“One day you’ll provide Past Life Regression Therapy to clients. Even
critics and cynical journalists will come to try it. I see you helping to open
their third eye. You’re very open and receptive to spirit energies, you know.
It’s a generational gift, it’s in your bloodline, you see. You have that
mysterious Scottish vibration, the aura of the mystic.”
She looked around the room. “In fact, a few are here tonight. I can see it
clearly. There are some Healers here too. There’s also a strong ancestral
connection to the Druids here in the local community. I felt it when I arrived
at Central Station today.”

As soon as I was old enough to attend, Mum took me to meetings with her.
At one well-known venue, Deloris, a famous Medium pointed towards me.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Lisa,” I answered, full of enthusiasm.
“Lisa, your Gran’s here. When still alive, her hand was semi-crippled like
this.” She curled her fingers.
I couldn’t really remember my Dad’s mother. She’d passed away when I
was an infant, but my mum later confirmed her hand was indeed crippled in
that manner.
“She says she’s walks with you as you go to school. That’s when you get
anxious about your coming exams. But she says you’ll do well.”
Mum chuckled under her breath.
“White Cloud, an Indian Chief is standing behind your left shoulder. He’s
telling me you’ll become a Psychic Author and Artist some day. You’ve
been studying the books of Psychic Artist, Carol Hodge, haven’t you?”
I nodded and then smiled at my mum, knowing she’d be delighted Deloris
spoke to me. Mum had bought every book Deloris had written.
“You can begin to practise it now. The timing is right. As you meditate, ask
your Spirit Guides to take control of your hand. They’ll train you in
Automatic Writing. Just empty your mind and go into trance. You’ll find it
begins to flow over the next few days.”
“Oh,” she said, dropping the volume and tone of her voice. “There’s also an
Ascended Master with you.” She paused, looking at him with reverence. “He
has chosen you as his instrument, to transmit his sacred writings. He wants
you to be one of his Channels. He’s also a talented draftsman. When you sit
for him, he will take over your hand and sketch the dead relatives that
materialise. When you’re older you will draw the Spirit Guides and deceased
loved ones of your clients. You’ll be a trained Medium by then.”
A thrill pulsed through me.
“White Cloud tells me you’re descended from Estelle Roy. She held
meetings at The Royal Albert Hall in the early 1900’s. A very respected
Clairvoyant.”

I’d never heard of her, but older Mediums in the audience gasped. She
must’ve been quite influential, I thought.
“Your star sign’s Aquarius, isn’t it? The Age of Aquarius is upon us. How
wonderful that very soon, many more people world wide shall open
themselves to the spiritual realms, and embrace their journey to
Enlightenment.”
I nodded again, holding my breath, wondering what she would say next.
Mum chuckled. I knew her thoughts.
“Lisa hates water!”
Mum was a Pisces but didn’t love water either!
“You’re involved in photography aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I nodded, bubbling over with excitement.
“I see you developing black and white prints in the dark-room. You’re not so
fond of computer graphics,” she laughed. “You prefer the old fashioned
photography.”
I smiled in acknowledgment.
“Take self-portraits as you sit in trance. Use infra-red film. The faces of your
Spirit Guides and ectoplasm will be revealed in your shots. Later, you will
be able to capture images in haunted houses. Years from now, it will help
you to prove the existence of the paranormal, in your books.”
My mum – Ruth, and I were elated. We had given our lives to psychic
research.Worldly ambitions meant little to us. We threw ourselves into
contacting the spirit world. It was our whole passion now. Indeed, it was our
life.
It was obvious Mum was so happy for me – I’d inherited her psychic
abilities! My dad wasn’t interested in any religion. He didn’t really know
what we were getting involved in. Mum and Dad had recently divorced and
we didn’t tell him much about our spiritual experiences.
When my Mum had first visited a Spiritualist Church, the Mediums had
confirmed she was strongly Clairaudient and would also develop in
Clairsentience. We’d already noticed this and were pleased the Mediums had
discerned it. I seemed to be more gifted in Clairvoyance and
Claircognizance and the first time I went along, the Mediums noticed this
too. They even said when I was older I’d have a daughter who’d be very
gifted in Psychometry.

We joined that Spiritualist Church, attending faithfully. As there were two
others in the area, we visited them too. Soon, we found out where the
Buddhist Meditation Centre was. Health Food stores were also a pleasure to
visit. We often bought Bach Flower Remedies, crystals and oils there. While
there, we could also pick up leaflets for local psychic events. Very quickly,
we entered a large network of like minded people and even became firm
friends with quite a few leaders.
Mum and I would spend hours in meditation. We meditated together in the
living room. Comfortably decorated, filled with scented geraniums and fresh
green plants, it was an inviting, pleasant place to tune into spirit vibrations.
Sometimes we meditated in silence. Sometimes we used CD’s of Guided
Meditation, CD’s of Nature Sounds or New Age music.
We were especially comforted when my sister would manifest and talk with
us. My mother had lost a baby when I was around seven years old, and the
Spirits told us the baby was a girl and had grown older in the Spirit World.
She would often appear and talk with me, especially if I was upset over
anything. It was uncanny as she looked just like photos of myself when
younger, except her hair was darker, almost black like Mum’s.
My Dad was an art teacher and encouraged me to practise painting for the
school art exam that was coming up. I’m sure he would’ve been shocked to
hear I was practising drawing dead people instead. He found our spiritual
interests quite daunting. He seemed quite alarmed!

Mum was more advanced than I was. She could summon spirits, inviting them
to enter her body and speak through her vocal chords. Their faces
became visible, as their features were transposed over hers. Webs of tangible
ectoplasm and mist would float around her during these transfigurations. The
ectoplasm felt almost like fine muslin or a spider’s web and omitted a smell
similar to ozone or sea air. We were fascinated. It was all so exciting, so
beguiling, so other-worldly. It wasn’t long until we were totally hooked!
Even as a child, I’d talk to my Spirit Guides in our garden. I loved that
garden. It was easy to imagine fairies living in the bushes, or in clumps of
bluebells and purple heather. I believed the fairies released a scent at night,
when it was actually honeysuckle fragrance wafting across the garden! As
our house was at the corner of the street, the garden was huge and full of
birch, elm and fir trees, wild shrubs and yellow gorse. I’d run around the
garden leaping off walls and jumping from one wall to another. There was a
very tall yew tree at the top corner of the garden. It would’ve looked more at
home in an ancient forest. If I climbed to almost the top, I could sit on my
faveourite branch. It was my secret place.

As a teenager, I discovered Yew trees could be hundreds or even thousands
of years old and were important to Celts. Yews were planted in graveyards
or near chapels, on ‘sacred power points,’ believed to protect the dead on
their journey to the afterworld. They were also planted on the boundary of
properties to protect from evil spirits. I read it was advisable not to go near
Yews at Halloween as it could attract evil spirits then. Most magical beliefs
were full of contradictions I later discovered!
When I was a child I felt an affinity to that evergreen tree. My special
branch offered views of surrounding streets but kept me well hidden. As I
perched on it, the thick branches enveloped me, fanning over me like the
fronds of ferns or palms. They were so full I’d be sheltered and dry even
during heavy rainfall. I’d call out to passers-by and giggle as they’d look
around, trying to see who was shouting. If I really wanted to give local
friends a fright, I’d shout as I jumped from the tree. I’d hold onto the branch
and jump so that it suddenly dipped down to the ground then sprang back up.
Branches would stretch and leaves would rustle. There would be such a
commotion they’d scream, thinking the tree was falling! Then they’d join me
and we’d race around the whole garden pretending it was an army assault
course. One by one we’d jump from, or be swung down from the tree. If we
held onto the branch, we’d hit the ground then be catapulted right back up
again squealing with excitement.
If I was having a rough day, I’d sit quietly on the branch and talk to my
Spirit Guides. It was such a lovely garden. I’d sit there and imagine that
nothing could ever spoil this perfect place … nothing dark could possibly
ever happen here.

Chapter Two

Even before I was a pre-teen, Mum and I had deja’vu episodes and very
specific dreams and visions that would come true. We predicted national
events days in advance, and to the exact detail. Then we’d watch the events
unfold on the T.V. news. Mum would predict events, then the following day
send me to the local shop.
She’d say things like, “Lisa, in tomorrow’s Daily Record, there will be a
photo of Princess Diana in a blue velvet evening dress, wearing a string of pearls.”
I’d buy the tabloid and true enough I’d see the article and photo she had
foreseen.Then I’d show it to her when I returned home. It made Mum feel
quite important. Somehow, it gave a boost to her confidence.
Mum could even foretell the winning racehorse at the Grand National! Then
she’d complain as she hadn’t bothered to place a bet! She conducted psychic
healing for humans and animals. Many ill people asked her for distant or
contact healing. When meeting complete strangers, she often astonished
them by revealing their most intimate secrets to them. Her precise
predictions and accuracy gained her recognition among many respected
Mediums and Channelers.

She devoured books on Astral Projection. After only a few attempts, she also
became adept at Remote Viewing. One day, the leading Clairvoyant at our
Spiritualist Church asked to speak to her.
“Ruth, I feel it’s time to release you into further service for the spirit world.
You have proved to be extremely gifted. Some Mediums are talented but
lack strength of character, but you have a high level of personal maturity and
integrity. You possess a deep and genuine love for hurting people and
animals that is quite unique. Your Karma is really well balanced, I’ve never
sensed any negative energies around you.”
Harold continued, “I’m very pleased with the Spirit Guides that accompany
you. I remember the day they first appeared in my meeting. It was wonderful
to welcome such highly evolved Spirit Guides into our midst. I felt very
privileged and honoured to bring them through from spirit to you.”
Mum nodded in agreement.
“Like attracts like, but with your kind spirit, it’s highly unlikely you would
ever attract any malicious spirits. They couldn’t be attracted to you ‘cause
you don’t have any low energies or fears. You don’t have a nasty bone in
your body. You and Lisa don’t have to worry about that. We won’t be
expecting any foul play from the spirit world. Neither of you have negative
energies in, or around you. Both your Auras are very clear. You’ve obviously
been quite highly evolved souls in previous carnations.”
“Thank you Harold,” Mum replied quietly.
“I’d be honoured if you continue to work with us here, but I feel you should
also take your gifts to the public.”
Mum smiled. “I’d love to.”
“A dear friend of mine has asked for a Medium to provide Psychic Readings
at a Women’s Holistic Day in her home. This will open many doors for you.
It’s going to be most lucrative.”
“I wouldn’t know what to charge, Harold.”
“I’d say around £20 per client and a minimum of 5 sitters per party. You’ll
get the full quota of clients easily. Remember though, no more than five a
day, or it can get quite draining.”
Mum nodded, quite surprised.
Most of the Spiritualists we knew appeared to look up to Harold, but without
sentimentality or great affection. It seemed their respect was more for the
role he held, rather than for the man himself. Unemotional and humourless,
he wasn’t the most approachable of Mediums, but he had a reputation for
excellent trance work, especially Transfigurations. He was one of the few
Physical Mediums we knew.
“You might consider a stage name? Pretentious, I know, but some people
expect it. Davina Rose suits you, don’t you think?”
“Well, yes. Of course.” Mum didn’t like the name, but no one dared to
question Harold!

Chapter Three

Sometimes, the spirits would surprise us by sending us gifts from the
celestial realms. Several times when my mum needed money, she would
hold her empty purse and ask for a miracle. Then when she opened the
purse, there would be enough money for her needs that day. We’d laugh and
try to guess where it had come from. Mum would joke about whether a bank
or individual had noticed the money was missing!
We became used to apports materialising from the spirit world. Once when
she was really upset over the death of our cat Teddy, a lovely fresh rose just
appeared on her bedside table, still damp with dew. Minutes later, we heard
a familiar miaow from the hall, then Teddy walked into the room, his first
visit to us from the Spirit World.
This terrified our dogs. They growled and ran from the room, tails between
their legs! Our other cat Cindy, hid in a closet for two days, her eyes
practically popping out her head. We tried to tempt her with prawns, but she
refused to come out. Their reactions confused us. They knew Teddy, so why
be traumatised at hearing his ghost? Unless it was a mischievous spirit
pretending to be Teddy, we decided. But how could we be certain which it
was? How could we test this out for sure?

At first, we were captivated by psychic phenomena, but eventually we both
became subdued and withdrawn. The dogs would leave the room when the
tarot-cards or angel cards were laid upon the large mahogany coffee table. A
depressive atmosphere hovered in our home. The air always seemed bitterly
cold and stale, even in summer months. Mum would tell people that her old
house suffered from wet rot and dampness. But that didn’t fully explain it.
Mum’s home rarely filled with sunlight. Facing the wrong way, it hardly
received natural light. Although usually in a semi-gloom, it seemed an extra
darkness now hung in the atmosphere. At times I wished she’d change all
the mahogany furniture. However beautiful, it just added to the darkness. I
longed for lighter woods, some modern furniture, mirrors or crystals to
reflect more light.
Due to the eerie atmosphere in the living room, I’d retreat into my bedroom
more often. Friends would laugh and say it looked like a New Age shop!
Candles, crystals and pyramids were placed at high points around the room.
Silver pendants and Indian scarves were draped over lampshades and my
bedposts. I loved a huge piece of Amethyst we’d bought at a shop in Fort
William. Dream-catchers dangled at my windows. Pictures of purple and
green never-ending concentric circles hung from the wall opposite my bed.
With palms facing upwards I’d lie and focus on the circles which seemed to
drift and spiral into the distance. Stilling my mind, I’d enter into a meditative
state.
Sometimes I’d use incense sticks but when the blue smoke clouds became
sickly sweet and overpowering I’d stop and throw my windows open wide.
I’d heard that Goths liked the Patchouli Oil scent, so I bought it even
although it smelled like moth balls to me! Tiny amber bottles of Ylang
Ylang sat in a row on my window ledge. I’d open them to mask the
Patchouli smell! Little earthenware bowls of lavender pot-pourri sat on the
dresser. The contents never lasted long as Cindy had a habit of fishing petals
out with her paw and chasing them around the carpet! I was proud of the
prints of Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn that graced my walls and I
longed to communicate with them in the spirit world.

As time went on, I spent more time with my teenaged friends. Eventually, I
became a Goth, going to the Student Union with other Goths at weekends.
At that time, being with friends was more important to me than Spiritualism,
so I didn’t go to the Spiritualist Church as often.
Over the years, we noticed the absence of some leaders of the various
Spiritualist Churches we visited. Shocking stories began to filter through.
Again and again we’d learn from people of different Spiritualist Churches
that down throughout history, Mediums had either developed illnesses that
couldn’t be diagnosed, or died young. Often they suffered nervous
breakdowns. Countless numbers claimed to be harassed by spirits and many
ended up in long-term psychiatric wards. Much to our dismay, we heard that
some even committed suicide.
We also heard of kind hearted psychics who had actually become spirit
possessed and viciously attacked people or even committed murder. Then
we heard of a Medium in England who had recently murdered his fiancée.
He stated that his long term Spirit Guide or Guardian Angel as he called it,
had suddenly turned against him, with no warning, taking control of his arm
and stabbing his girlfriend to death.

The leaders at our Spiritualist Church never told us what happened to these
psychics. Friends later heard that some had either gradually recovered, or
sadly, had to be incarcerated in institutions for the criminally insane.
My great aunt May, a pensioner, also told us stories she’d heard about
Mediums decades ago. When she was a young teenager she was taken to a
Spiritualist Church by a relative, who said she was slightly ‘fey’ and should
develop her psychic streak. She was mesmerised the first time she saw a
Medium introduce an ancient trumpet. Sometimes it would even float in
mid-air during the séance. Spirits used it to speak through and amplify their
voice, allowing them to give clear messages to those in the room.
But she also had frightening experiences and decided not to go back. She
couldn’t sleep without her bedside lamp switched on. Her concentration and
school work suffered. Already a very shy adolescent, she became more
withdrawn and anxious. Her parents were furious at the relatives who took
her to the Spiritualist Church, forbidding them to ever take her there again.
Once, when playing with a Ouja Board with her cousins years later, spirits
swore at them and accurately predicted a friend would be killed by a train
when crossing the railway track near St. Rollox in Springburn, Glasgow.
She’d often cross the track, taking a short cut home.
Shortly after that Ouja Board session, that girl was indeed killed by a train.
Aunt May and her cousins had nightmares about their friend’s death,
convinced the spirits of the Ouja Board were to blame for her tragic death.
All of them were plagued with guilt for years. They felt the Ouja Board had
placed a curse on their friend and that she wouldn’t have been killed if they
hadn’t invoked spirits by playing with it.

Mum and I didn’t attend the Spiritualist Church as often as before, realising
it was lacking in safety guarantees. Instead, it was outright dangerous. At
one of the last Spiritualist meetings we went to, we witnessed a
Transfiguration Session that went horribly wrong. The Medium was trying
to block a particularly obnoxious spirit from coming through his body, but
he was unable to control it.
Another Medium ran over to help him, but as soon as she touched him, both
Mediums screamed. There was a flash of fire and they were both burned.
Thin columns of smoke rose above them, as others ran to help them.
Someone rushed to find a First Aid box. None of us were de-briefed after
this incident. Not one of our church leaders attempted to explain what went
wrong, or why. We didn’t enjoy going to Spiritualist Churches as much as
we once did. More than before, we noticed those oppressive silences
amongst the congregations, as if unknown to them, they were in the grip of
uncontrollable, unidentifiable forces.

Strange and disturbing incidents during services increased in frequency.
Mum and I even read of similar accidents in books by Mediums. The famous
Medium, Edgar Cayce, wrote in the 1930’s that Psychic Readings took their
toll on his health, especially if he attempted to do more than eight a day. He
even said that too many readings were potentially dangerous and could kill
Mediums! Yet, we knew Spiritualists who aimed to do at least 14 a day. It
was becoming a lucrative earner in our generation. Many Psychics now
viewed it as a serious business venture. It was becoming very popular in
society now. Much more of the general public were attracted to psychic
development classes than ever before.
Mum had horrible vision’s of disasters around the world. She hated having
these premonitions and didn’t want them. She saw planes fly into two very
tall tower buildings.
“I’m really sure it was in New York,” she told me later. “It was a horrific
nightmare. Surely that can’t happen in America?”
“Maybe it was one of those false visions. Maybe you had a mischievous
spirit playing around with you?”
“Possibly, but I don’t think so. Plus, the sky was horrible. It was filled with
evil entities. They were so black.”
We questioned why spirits would give Mum such horrible premonitions,
especially as she couldn’t prevent the tragedies. All it succeeded in doing
was alarming us both. Sometimes we wondered if the spirits were just
sadistic and enjoyed taunting us.
Our supernatural experiences weren’t as pleasant as they were before. We
knew something wasn’t right. It constantly nagged at the back of our minds
but we couldn’t pinpoint the reason.
We were discovering the occult was deadly so we decided to get out.

But the really strange thing is, that once we actually made that decision all
hell was let loose. During all of the years we spent in New Age and
Spiritualism, things had never really got totally out of control.
Yet, it seemed that only milli-seconds after we decided to withdraw from
these practices that all hell was let loose.
Literally let loose.

Chapter Thirteen

As promised, Suzie collected me later. The short drive to Stirling was a
pleasant one, although I was a bit nervous. As we approached her church,
the sky was an azure blue and the scent of orange blossom filled the air.
When we arrived at the church car park I was surprised to see the building
didn’t look like a church at all. I love the architecture of old churches but
this modern structure was attractive too. Even the words ‘Community
Church,’ on the notice-board were displayed in an appealing contemporary
design rather than the old fashioned calligraphy style I’d expected.
As I entered the Pentecostal Church I was utterly taken aback. I’d never
witnessed such a crowd of happy people! Warm welcomes were offered to
all. A few exchanged hugs. Their affection was real, not condescending. An
atmosphere of love and compassion filled the room.
It reminded me of a wedding I had attended at a Gospel Hall and how the
Brethern there had impressed me with their loving voluntary work and
selfless acts in their troubled community.
The church wasn’t just filled with elderly people. Instead, it was full of
friendly people of all ages, including many families with young children and
babies. But most surprising of all was the amount of teenagers and groups of
friends in their twenties.

I sensed these people were genuine. Plus, I sensed they had something I
didn’t possess and it intrigued me. What’s their secret, I thought.
But cynicism dies very hard. What about this Preacher? Is he going to
patronise us all? I wondered. Christians are far too narrow minded. If they
only knew what I know! There’s many ways to God, I reminded myself.
Yet, at the same time I knew all my searching had been fruitless, leading
only to deeper darkness. Within me, I could feel a gaping spiritual void that
nothing satisfied. It wasn’t loneliness either. I knew there remained a part of
me that only God could fill. A part of me that wanted to believe God exists.
A part of me that wanted to know who God is. To know why we are here
and what our purpose on this earth is. To know what the ‘bigger picture’ is
all about.

The musicians began to play contemporary worship music. This was
surprising! It wasn’t like a funeral service I’d been accustomed to when
obliged to visit most Christian churches! Any churches I’d reluctantly
visited in the past had been so dull, lacking any humour, charm or attraction.
I’d never liked organised religion and regarded its leaders as power hungry
phonies, striving to rise in their man made hierarchy, gloating in religious
ceremony and public performance.
To me, most churches only contained empty and contrived illusions of
spirituality, failing to meet the world’s spiritual and emotional needs and
desires. I regarded their leaders as arrogant control freaks, lording it over
their parishes, forcing social conformity through control or fear tactics. Their
churches held nothing that would entice me back again.
This church was different. The crowd didn’t act like religious puppets or
clones. They seemed free to be themselves – free to be the unique
personalities God had created them to be. They worshipped with pop and
rock styles of music. I fought it, but eventually began tapping my foot. I
couldn’t resist. This music was so good. I could almost hear Cliff Richard
saying, ‘Why should the devil have all the good music!’ I didn’t want the
music to end. For the first time in months I was actually beginning to feel a
sense of enjoyment and a tiny seed of hope grow within me.

As the South African Preacher prepared to speak I saw a spiritual Light
appear all around him. He was surrounded in what appeared to be a bright
white aura. I was astonished. Such an aura was very rare. I could hardly
believe my eyes! He also reminded me of the famous evangelist Dr. Billy
Graham. He delivered a simple message.
“John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only
begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him, shall not perish but have eternal
life.” In John 14:6, Jesus said, “ I am the way, the truth and the life. No-one
comes to the Father except through Me.”
I cringed. This annoyed me and went against my liberal thinking. Let people
choose their own gods, I argued within myself. But then … Mum and I did
that and look at the horrendous mess we got into.
The Preacher spoke in detail about God’s love and how He longs to offer
every one of us His mercy. He emphasised God wasn’t mad at us. He said
God’s not waiting to shout at us, punishing us in harsh judgement, but that
He had sent Jesus to endure punishment for us, so we wouldn’t have to. It’s
as if Jesus has granted us an eternal spiritual pardon in a heavenly courtroom
… but we have to choose whether to accept it, I thought.

He spoke with a quiet authority and genuine humility. Conveying both
gentleness yet strength in his countenance, it was evident he had a
compassionate soul. His heartfelt message drew me like a magnet. I hung on
his every word, as if his words were air to the suffocating. As he spoke, I
hardly even blinked my eyelids. This wasn’t hypnotism, I wasn’t being
mesmerised! I was in full control of all faculties of mind, yet I didn’t want to
miss one word.
He also explained God was a righteous judge and had to bring justice. He
then described heaven and hell from Bible passages. Hell. That sounded
familiar. Mum and I had been scorched by the fingers of Hell. Initially,
she’d been afraid to commit suicide in case spirits chased and tormented her
for ever.
I doubted Hell was full of wild parties and rock stars happily drinking
Budweiser and Jack Daniels. They’re more likely to be utterly alone, pinned
down and trapped by dozens of bony ghoulish hands. I could imagine them
paralysed and being attacked by those evil spirits, while being plagued by
deep depression and gut wrenching fears and phobias … for eternity.
I now had totally no trouble believing Heaven and Hell existed. But Jesus?
Was He really the Saviour? The Son of God? The soon returning Messiah?
The Something that we’ve all been looking and waiting for? The One I’d
been searching for all of my life?
At the end of his sermon, the Preacher made an announcement. “While
every head is bowed and every eye is closed, are there any here tonight who
want to be sure they are Christians? Jesus loves you. If you were to die
tonight, where would you spend eternity? Are you certain you would enter
heaven? One day you will stand alone before God at His judgement seat. He
knows about every second of your life. This is the most important decision
you ever make. It’s consequences are eternal.”
“The Lord is setting before you life or death. Choose life! Jesus can give you
a fresh start. Only Jesus Christ can forgive sin. If you want an inner
assurance of eternal security, briefly raise and lower your hand now, or
come for private prayer at the end and I will lead you in a prayer of
salvation.”

Many lifted their hands in response to his heart felt appeal. I need time to
think this over, I won’t be brain-washed, I thought. The worship music was
breath taking. It was slow, soft and soothing. I wept as I felt an exquisite
atmosphere envelope me. The harmonies were heavenly and the singing
angelic. This was not mere emotionalism. There were no amateur dramatics
taking place. Something uniquely special was pervading the atmosphere. I
could feel it!
I could literally feel the very physical tangible Presence of God … for the
first time in my life.

Chapter Fourteen

Then the Preacher began to prophesy to a few individuals. He told them
things they clearly identified with and they seemed pleased. At the very end
he looked directly at me. His eyes seemed to stare into the very centre of my
soul. This man was sincere. I knew it.
He smiled. “What’s your name?” he asked, concern showing in his face.
“Lisa,” I replied gingerly.
“Lisa, this night was ordained before the Earth’s Creation. The Lord loved
us even while we were in our mothers’ womb. He has seen your every tear.
He has heard every sigh from your lips. Watching every tear fall to your
pillow, He has sent an angel to catch a spiritual duplicate of every one. The
angel placed them in a bottle in heaven. It’s a special bottle with your name
on it. It’s purple. Your favourite colour.”
I sat in silence. How does this guy know my favourite colour’s purple, I
thought. I wasn’t wearing any purple. I was wearing a brown trouser suit!
“Jesus is the King of all Kings and the Prince of Peace. Yes, peace! You’ve
been desperate to secure peace but it has eluded you. It’s a precious gift, like
a rare and costly life giving fruit that Jesus desires to give you, and He never
takes back His gifts. You can become one of His daughters tonight. That
choice of course, is yours to make.”

“He beckons you now, child. He is as close to you as the very breath in your
nostrils.You have been searching and searching. The Lord says in Jeremiah
Chapter 33, verse 3 “Call unto Me and I will answer you and show you
great and unfathomable things you did not know.”
I heard Suzie sniffing next to me and noticed she wiped her tear filled eyes.
“I see you a few years from now, becoming a lover of God, basking in His
Presence. I see you sitting at the feet of Jesus writing and hanging onto His
every word. Jesus told parables. People have always loved stories. The Holy
Spirit will give you creative ideas. He loves diversity and variety. He created
our universe, all the galaxies, solar systems … Scientists are still discovering
more solar systems He has created!
“Amen,” a man in the audience said cheerfully.

“Don’t retreat or hide your light under a bushel Lisa, but use the talents He
gives you. Writing for creative evangelism will be so rewarding for you and
bless others in their spiritual journey. Please, don’t deny them, ‘cause you
don’t think you can write. We can do all things through Christ Who
strengthens us.”
All this sounded lovely but a gnawing doubt rose within. Writing for the
Holy Ghost? Who is He – a ghost? I’m not sure I want to write for ghosts, I
thought. Spiritualists wanted me to do it and all that stuff nearly killed me.
Compassion swept over the Preacher’s face. “The Holy Spirit isn’t a ghost.
He isn’t evil and won’t harm you. He is the third person of the Trinity. He
displays all the wonderful characteristics of Christ. You can trust Him as He
is total Love, absolute Truth, the epitome of gentleness and kindness, yet
stronger than any foe.”
He knows my thoughts, I realised.
“You are finally about to step onto the right path,” the Preacher continued.
“Into the beginnings of your destiny. Like many today, you have a Calling to
reach New Agers and Occultists who will come across your path. You’ll
offer them the choice to receive Christ’s love, freedom and eternal
salvation.”
I didn’t speak.

“You’ve known darkness. Many in this land have. It might surprise you, but
Scotland’s a dark nation spiritually. I’ve preached in Africa, in areas steeped
in generational voodoo and witchcraft. I know regions that are demonic. You
can feel it. But even some Preachers don’t like coming to Scotland as they
feel it when they get here!”
Surely he’s exaggerating, I thought.
“Scotia is Greek for Scotland and it means darkness!”
A few murmured in agreement.
“Scotia’s a sunken moulding at the base of a pillar, projecting a shadow over
itself. Scotland’s darkness casts a shadow over itself! But the Scots who
know God, can rise up and be a nation of beacons, shining Christ’s light
from their foundations, being pillars to those around them, once again.”
“Amen,” some said.

“The New Age Movement and Occult is rife in this generation – in this
nation – in this world. But in these last days, we are seeing thousands more
Witches and Satanists coming to Christ too, more than ever before.”
Had Suzie told him earlier that I’m a New Ager? Why is he telling me all of
this, I wondered.
“Many of these precious souls hunger for the supernatural and turn to the
Occult if they haven’t seen the power of God in Christian churches. Some of
them have even been hurt by judgmental Christians in the traditional
churches, so they’ve been drawn to the Occult instead. It’s time more of our
churches displayed healings, signs and wonders. Moses did. Elijah did. Jesus
did! The disciples did. We need to show New Agers that Jesus has more
power than satan! We can’t rescue souls from darkness by hiding our lights
under a bushel!”
“Lisa, The King of Kings is stretching forth His loving hand to you tonight.
He offers you His salvation. It’s a free gift as none of us could ever be good
enough to earn it through good works. It is offered with His mercy and grace
alone. Will you receive Him?”
I couldn’t hold back the tears. I trembled slightly as a mixture of emotions
swirled inside. Could all this be true? Is Jesus real? I wondered. His words
were so compelling. He spoke with such deep inner conviction and sense of
loving authority.
“With deep anguish and desperation of heart, John Knox shouted, “Lord,
give me Scotland or I’ll die!” There’s coming a day soon, when more
Scottish Christians will cry out, “Lord, give me Spiritualists or I’ll die!”
I didn’t really know which John Knox quote he was referring to, but was
convinced Suzie must’ve told him about me!
“He is going to show you and many other New Agers that the Holy Spirit
has far more to offer than psychic phenomena and powers,” the preacher
continued. “Knowing Him, following His ways, being in His presence and
soaring with the Holy Spirit into unimaginable realms of Glory. This far
exceeds anything any psychic could ever imagine.”
I felt uncomfortable and wanted to run out of the building!

… “Bless her, Lord,” he prayed.
In that moment I sensed this was the very Person of Jesus drawing close to
me. His powerful Presence was far more loving and real than any Spirit
Guide or dead relative I had known, seen or conversed with. His pure
qualities of kindness, tenderness and infinite understanding of me, consumed
me entirely.
And yet, He had an iron strength too. A Power not to be challenged and
impossible to overcome. His Spirit was gentle as a lamb, yet as majestic as a
lion. His love was so pure and complete, yet I sensed Jesus wasn’t a meek
and mild wimp. It was obvious His power was such that He could destroy
the entire universe with a mere flick of His little finger.

… Then the speaker looked serious and his tone changed.
“I break every demonic inspired word and every false prophecy from
unclean spirits that Mediums spoke over your life. I cut every word curse
and render them void in Christ’s Name.”
It literally felt as if heavy metal chains snapped and dropped from my body.
“Lord, thank You for cancelling Satan’s plans for her life,” he said quietly.
He paused. “They told you to write and even draw for spirits, didn’t they?”
I nodded. Revulsion and disgust turned my stomach.
“What Satan intended for harm, The Lord can redeem, turn around, and use
for His Glory.”
“Glory to God,” Suzie said quietly …

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If you’d like to order a copy of my book A Spiritual Quest, please email me on  laura.maxwell@protonmail.com

My note of gratitude …

John 4:38—”We reap the fruits of other peoples labor.” “Thanks to the prayers of Christians & also our leaders. ” All for Christ, His Glory and the spreading of His Gospel.

Thanks very much,
Laura Maxwell – The ministry founder of A Spiritual Quest.

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DISCLAIMER:

Laura Maxwell does not necessarily agree with all the information and conclusions presented by friends, guest articles on her blog, TV or radio interviews or her own radio show. Laura is not paid for writing in books, magazines or appearing on TV, radio or at events. All of her work is of a voluntary nature.