We were chatting away while the tatoo artist was at work, and when it came up that I was a minister, he asked lots of questions. When we were done, he took me by the arm and asked in low tones, “Can I ask you something?” He looked around and beckoned me out onto the sidewalk in front of the tatoo parlor.

It turns out that when much younger and very angry and confused he had gotten a tatoo with some satanic reference. He was now through that phase of his life, and had another tatoo inked over the demonic one, obscuring it completely. Nevertheless, he felt ill at ease about it, like Satan would still considered the tatoo artist marked as one of his own.

Would I pray for his protection from evil?

Thankfully, as you say PB, I am always ready. This was a person who needed to know that God loved, cherished and protected him. It had nothing to do with what I believed or disbelieved about Satan and demons, nothing to do with my views on spiritual warfare.

I took some of the oil-based antibiotic ointment that was meant for my new tatoo. I explained that in the Christian tradition, oil is used to anoint people as a sign of healing and being sealed by the Holy Spirit. I squeezed some out of the tube, and anointed him on the troubling tatoo, in the sign of the cross. Then I laid my hands on his shoulders and prayed with him. I prayed for the binding up and casting out of every evil force that haunted him, forbidding them to ever return, asking for the Holy Spirit to fill and cleanse him. By the authority and in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.

I never pray like that; the words were from a source beyond me. It was a very powerful, intimate and unexpected moment.

I do have to admit to owning a mental thesauri. *sigh* I’m working on it.