CHARLO, New Brunswick, May 14, 2024 – It has come to my attention that I have a practicing witch in my family. This should be a shocking confession for a born-again believer, but there it is. No use beating around the burning bush. Jesus had Judas Iscariot; I have a witch. At least one that I know of. There are likely more. As they say about cockroaches, “never one witch”.

Jesus said that our worst enemies will be those under our own roof, and he wasn’t wrong about that. Jesus wasn’t wrong about anything, but he particularly wasn’t wrong about our worst enemies and where we’ll find them. Good attracts evil like a wool jacket attracts lint or a magnet attracts metal shavings.  Evil is drawn to truth, which is why the demon-infested followed Jesus around ranting that he was the Son of God or the possessed girl trailed around behind the disciples. Those poor miserable souls couldn’t help themselves. They were like “The end is nigh!” placard wavers, only with a better script.

Attracting the demonic is a hazard of our trade as ministers of God’s Word. I guess you could even say it’s a good sign if you attract them: it means you’re a target because you present an obstacle to the devil for no other reason than that he can’t have you anymore. And not being able to have you galls him and goads him into giving it one last try, for old-time’s sake. He’s sure the devilish charm that worked before will eventually work again. You’re sure it won’t.

Having a witch in the family is apparently a thing nowadays. It’s a thing to have a family witch. It used to be a thing to have a doctor in the family or a university professor or a lawyer. Now people casually drop into their conversation that they have a witch. Even I did it, here on this blog, though for a different reason. I’m not bragging that I have a witch; I’m just saying.

I read on reddit a few days ago that covens are doing meet-and-greets in Tim Horton’s cafes. There’s nothing more quintessentially Canadian than Timmies, so I guess it was only a matter of time before the witches staked their claim to it. They already have most of the churches and second-hand bookstores and schools and libraries in Canada. Branching out to coffee shops would, I guess, be the next logical step in their takeover of our once-Christian nation. They’re not the only anti-Christ faction rushing in to fill the vacuum left by believers who’ve gone on to their eternal reward, but they’re certainly one of the more… colourful. To be honest, most of them are just play-acting at being witches, but some are real. Some are sincere. You can see it in their dead eyes.

I asked God what I should do about the witch in my family, and he said you’re already doing it. He said my Spirit is with you wherever you go, and that’s spiritual warfare enough. Nothing else is required. No garlic. No holy water. No amulets or lucky rabbit feet. No mumbled recitations. Witches are their own worst enemies, and even knowing that the spells they cast will come back on them in spades, they still do it. They still cast the spells on the unsuspecting unprotected, not seeming to realize that they, too, are the unprotected, that they, too, are vulnerable. Anyone who hasn’t thrown their lot in with God is vulnerable.

We can pray for these people if God gives us guidance to. We can pray for them but otherwise we should just let them be. I wanted to go to Tim Horton’s and sit in on their meet-and-greet, to see how silly it was, but God said to leave them alone. They’re yet another example of the blind leading the blind. You pity those people; you don’t poke sticks at them in their self-imposed prison cell. You’re kind to them, the way that Jesus was always kind to Judas Iscariot.

Maybe that they have to eat Timmies’ baked-from-frozen day-old doughnuts is punishment enough.