I never used to talk about it much in the early years of my ministry. Preachers don’t usually like to admit what I’m about to confess. But the truth is, I was once tormented—yes, tormented—by fear. And not just the kind of fear that makes you check if you locked the door twice. I’m talking about the spirit of fear. A demonic bondage that wrapped itself around my thoughts, my speech, my sleep, my future, and for a season—my destiny.
You see, we love to preach about power and authority, and rightly so. But many of us skip over the quiet moments where we were not walking in that authority. We skip the testimonies where we were still bleeding, still fighting, still being chased by shadows no one could see. Today, I want to talk about deliverance—specifically, how God delivered me from the deep, paralyzing grip of fear, and how that journey unlocked the boldness that now fuels my preaching and my ministry.
When Fear Pretends to Be Wisdom
I didn’t know it was fear at first.
It came dressed in caution. It wore the mask of prudence. I would feel a nudge from the Holy Spirit to speak out against certain spiritual attacks, or to confront secret sin operating in leadership, and I would feel a voice inside saying, “Wait. Be wise. Don’t cause a stir.” I thought it was the Spirit of God training me in timing. But it wasn’t. It was fear masquerading as wisdom.
Fear is cunning like that. It won’t always roar. Sometimes it whispers. It negotiates. It brings up statistics. It says, “Do you want to lose your position? What will people think if you say that? What if you’re wrong?” And so I kept quiet. I delayed. I danced around truth like Saul sparing Agag, pretending I was still in obedience.
But the enemy was feeding off my silence.
I would go home from meetings feeling physically sick, tormented by the fact that I didn’t speak what the Lord told me. I would cry and repent. I would fast. But the next time I stood in front of that intimidating elder, or faced that demonized congregant glaring at me, my voice would crack. My mind would race. And I would back down again.
The Breaking Point
It wasn’t until a certain night of prayer that I finally broke.
We were having an overnight Kesha at our church, and I had been scheduled to minister. All day I had been feeling unusually oppressed. Headache. Restlessness. Doubts. I couldn’t hear the Holy Spirit clearly. I had prayed and fasted all week, but by evening, I felt like a weak, empty vessel.
I took the microphone that night trembling—yes, physically trembling. I started preaching, but my spirit was dry. My words were flat. There was no anointing, no unction. I could feel that the people weren’t receiving. And I knew why. I was preaching with a muzzle.
Mid-sermon, I stopped. I closed my eyes and whispered, “Holy Spirit, help me.” And I heard clearly in my spirit:
“You cannot cast out what you still tolerate.”
That word hit me like fire. I dropped the microphone on the pulpit, fell to my knees in front of the church, and began to weep. I confessed before everyone that I had been afraid—afraid of man, afraid of making mistakes, afraid of backlash, afraid of being misunderstood. And I cried out for deliverance. Right there, in front of the people I was supposed to be leading, I repented. I surrendered. And the glory of God came down.
I began to shake. Not out of fear this time—but as the power of God surged through my body. Chains were breaking. Generational voices that had echoed in my bloodline—voices of intimidation, rejection, shame—were being silenced by the voice of the Spirit. That night, I was delivered.
And from that night, something changed in me forever.
Fear is a Spirit, Not Just a Feeling
We often quote 2 Timothy 1:7—“For God has not given us a spirit of fear…”—but do we really understand what that verse is saying? Fear is not just an emotion. It is a spirit. It is a demonic entity that can speak, influence, limit, and even possess. And many believers, especially those in ministry, walk around with this spirit still hanging on them—binding their mouths, silencing their gifts, choking their destinies.
After my deliverance, the Lord began to train me in discernment. I started seeing how fear had been strategically placed in my life by the enemy, even from childhood. I remembered moments in school when I was mocked for speaking up. I remembered how, growing up, every time someone tried to confront a wrong in our family, they were punished or ostracized. These patterns had trained my soul to associate boldness with pain.
But now I was free.
And the Holy Spirit began to teach me how to war against fear, not just pray about it.
Deliverance Is Violent, But Necessary
Deliverance is not a polite process. It is not therapy. It is war.
I remember one Sunday after my deliverance, I was ministering to a young woman who was manifesting a demonic spirit. As I laid hands on her, the demon began to laugh and say, “You don’t have power.” For a moment, I felt the old fear trying to crawl back. But this time, I shouted out, “I am not afraid of you anymore!” And fire came down.
She was delivered in minutes.
That boldness wasn’t from seminary. It wasn’t from books. It was from freedom—real, violent, Holy Ghost fire freedom.
You cannot cast out what you still fear. And you cannot fear what you have been crucified with. Deliverance will crucify you—your pride, your people-pleasing, your image. But it will set you ablaze.
How You Know You’re Free
Freedom has a fragrance. An atmosphere. You know it when it comes.
For me, I began to sleep peacefully again. My dreams became sharper. My preaching grew bolder. I began to speak to witches without blinking. I stopped preaching to impress, and began preaching to confront. I stopped tiptoeing around controlling people in church. I started loving truth more than applause.
And most of all, I began to enjoy God again. I could laugh again. I could cry without shame. I could walk into spiritual atmospheres and know, “I carry the authority of Christ.”
That’s when I knew I was free.
To Someone Reading This…
Maybe you’re in ministry. Maybe you’re not. But you know exactly what I’m talking about. That inner voice of hesitation. That spiritual muzzle. That tightness in your chest every time God asks you to step out. That dream you can’t explain where you’re always being chased but never catching up.
Let me tell you: You don’t need more motivation. You need deliverance.
Fear doesn’t leave because we ignore it. It leaves when we confront it in the name of Jesus. Deliverance is not for “crazy” people. It’s for called people. Jesus said, “These signs shall follow those who believe: in My name, they will cast out demons…” (Mark 16:17). That includes the demons that whisper in your own mind.
You don’t have to live with fear.
You don’t have to lead with fear.
You don’t have to raise your children in fear.
There is a freedom that Christ paid for. It is available now. And I am a witness.
Let Me Pray With You
Heavenly Father,
I thank You for the one reading this right now. I thank You because You are the same God who delivered me from fear—and You are doing it again. Lord, I rebuke every spirit of fear tormenting their life, their mind, their ministry, their marriage, or their dreams. I command every demonic force that has silenced their voice to be broken now in Jesus’ name!
I release boldness. I release fire. I release a fresh baptism of power. Let them rise up, speak up, and walk in the full authority of the Holy Spirit. Let them know who they are and whose they are.
In Jesus’ mighty name—YOU ARE FREE. Amen.
