There was a huge recreation center on Guam in the village of Asan by the ocean. On several occasions dad would take my brother and me to watch a boxing match there. We would go only when a particular Filipino boxer was fighting. He was coached by a member of our church named Sim Malinao. We were pretty up close to the ring where we could see, and feel, all the emotion and pain emanating from that ring. Honestly, I can still see in my mind’s eye the drops of sweat that would fall off the boxers as they fought their way to an upraised arm at match’s end.
Fast forward years later along a different train of thought. In the summer of 1979 I came to Anderson, Indiana to go to Seminary. I first boarded in the house of a lady named Donetta Cooke. Sometime during my first semester I met a really nice collegian named Marlene Howell. She told me about her aunt, a widow and a diabetic, who was living by herself in the same city and subject to frequent diabetic attacks. It seemed to me Aunt Ruth needed help. So I moved in with her. We had lots of blessed times around the supper table. Afterwards, we would go out to the living room and watch a religious broadcast or two. But always, before we’d go to bed, we’d both kneel down in the living room and pray together. What wonderful times they were!
Anyways, one night, I had a dream. It was a dream of Aunt Ruth lying flat on her back in bed, wailing. Her arms and legs were flinging in the air, much like the way a baby does when it’s crying its heart out. Instead of hearing sounds, the sounds were made visible to me as sound waves coming out of her mouth and making their way to my ears. I woke up right then and there. And wouldn’t you know it, do you know what I heard? Aunt Ruth wailing like a baby in the next room over. You bet I was scared silly. I was trembling off the Richter scale. Knowing what I had to do, I reluctantly got out of bed, went to her room, turned the light on, and there she was, wailing and flinging—just like in my dream. Her eyes and her wailing had the Devil’s name written all over them. They just weren’t natural! This was not Aunt Ruth! That fiend of a Devil was beating her up. As I stood there watching I truly felt helpless. For the very first time in my life, I felt like I met up with the Devil Himself—just he and me, locked up in this small bedroom, this boxing ring. I was scared as scared can be. My knees were literally bent and knocking together. To this day I don’t know how I was able to stand in that room. But for the grace of God, the Devil would have sent me to the canvas that night. But I did the only thing I knew to do, and that is, rebuke the Devil in Jesus’ Name. So, with trembling knees and voice, I pointed my hand at Aunt Ruth and said, “I rebuke you Devil in Jesus’ Name.” Immediately, and I mean immediately, the fight was over. Aunt Ruth calmed down and she laid perfectly silent and still. I was truly amazed. I’d never seen anything like it before. The Devil actually listened to me–even though I was scared out of my socks–because I used the Name of Jesus against him. Snapping back to reality, I walked out to the kitchen, picked up the phone, and called a neighbor. She came over within minutes, gave Aunt Ruth some orange juice, then we all went back to bed.
For months thereafter I’d be scared at night, fearing this dreaded encounter with the Devil would happen again. It never did. Aunt Ruth never had another diabetic attack for the two years that I stayed with her. Though fearful for a long time afterwards, I manage to chuckle and grin every time I remember my night with the Devil in the boxing ring. God raised my arm and, in Jesus’ Name, declared me the victor in the ring. All glory to God, the Devil got a bruising that night. Instead of me, it was he who got to taste the canvas. Sweeeet!
Gaylord Diaz's Blog 
Nancy Ludden said,
June 2, 2010 at 1:22 PM
Thanks, Gaylord. That was encouraging!
Scott Martin said,
August 5, 2011 at 11:50 PM
I’m probably reading your blogs too fast. Loved this message! I’m trying to catch up on all the good stuff I’ve missed out on. Onward to read another post….
gaylorddiaz said,
August 6, 2011 at 8:11 PM
Thanks Scott. This is one of my many all-time favorites. It was my first encounter with the Devil and I’m thankful that God was good enough to prepare me for it beforehand by teaching me about the spiritual authority He has given to each one of His children. Were it not for the authority and the teaching (or knowledge of it) I would be a spiritual wimp and the Devil’s fearful slave. I’m so thankful that God has delivered me from being fearful of Satan! In fact, in Christ, and because of Christ, Satan is fearful of me. And that, for every Christian, is the way it should be.