Terrebonne Parish


An Open Letter To Lucifer

You have many names – none of them pleasant. Each slides off the tongue like turpentine that’s been accidently swallowed.


You sneak into my thoughts at night, disrupting sleep I desperately need. You toy with my memories of a past I can’t change. I replay yesterday over and over again – imagining how I could have been different, and how, if I had been different, my life would be different – how my life would be so much better.

If only.

And there in my bedroom, while I struggle to sleep, you not only invade my thoughts of yesterday, but you swarm over my thoughts of tomorrow – my thoughts of a future I haven’t even reached yet. You make me wonder how I’m going to pay the light bill. You put ideas in my head that others are out to get me, and you prepare me for a battle that will likely never happen, filling my head with evil words I will say to a certain someone if they approach me on the street tomorrow. They probably won’t, but that makes no difference to you; you like the idea that I dread a confrontation that will never be. You whisper slithering, disgusting words in my ear; the air is moist from the stench of your breath, and I cover my head with my pillow to keep you out.

You don’t deserve a single second of my time, yet you take it like a debt owed to you for a service provided. You take it like a judgement leaves a person no choice but to sell everything in their possession just to be free again.

But you’ve provided me no service, and you’ve no right to judge me. It is you who has already been judged. My God casted you to hell, and that’s where you belong. Not here, in my bedroom while I try to sleep. Not in my dreams when sleep finally comes. And not in the light of day while I carry my bible close and try desperately to retain the words I read while sipping my morning coffee.

You are not welcome here. You drift close behind me, cackling with a loud screech that rises, then falls to a wicked hiss. I imagine drops of water as they hit hot coals, and I smell a sulfuric stench that is closer than I’d like.

I stop in my tracks and take a deep breath, whispering to my Father for help, and a blanket of warm, bright light cascades over me from head to toe; and God says to me what He always says, “I love you, child. I am here.”

I open my eyes and walk on. I must be careful to not speak to Satan — constantly warning him how great my God is — more so than I speak to God Himself.

The devil cares not what I have to say. God leans on every word. The devil cares not that my heart is broken. God reaches in to mend it.

So, I am writing this letter as my last words to you; you nasty, filthy, lying, conniving, covetness monster. You will not steal my nights any longer! You will not hover over my days for another second. My God sent you away a long time ago, and He is still in control of you! You have no power over me, for I am a child of God.

So, slither back to the pit from which you came. God loves me. He is all I need. You cannot make me doubt Him. You cannot make me question Him. And you surely can’t make Him ever abandon me! You are nothing. God is everything.

Now, be gone with you!!


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