I can’t type one more word without sharing the reason why I have decided
to write this. The ONLY reason is… JESUS CHRIST… It’s all about Him. 

I don’t think to tell the story of one’s life is ever easy, especially coming from an occult background.
I only know that by telling my story, it will give praise to my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.


Birth and Occult background:

I was born on the 24th of August, 1971, in Pietermaritzburg, KwaZulu Natal, into a family with a strong Occult background. My father, Chris van Rensburg, was a “New Ager”, and was part of a powerful, secret organisation. He was also a teacher at the School of Truth, which, similarly to Scientology, believes that man is God.

At the hospital where I was born, the gynaecologist and one of the head nurses were involved in Satanism. This was stated in a 1984 article in a Christian magazine of that time. The article went on to say that at the hospital where I was born, Satanic rituals were performed on babies.
Shortly after my birth, my parents discovered marks and bruises on me, and although they didn’t know how it got there, they knew it wasn’t normal. This was as a result of Satanic Ritual Abuse (S.R.A).

Furthermore, because of this Ritual Abuse, I developed Dissociative Identity Disorder (D.I.D), previously known as Multiple Personality Disorder (M.P.D).

At this time, a Satanic witch was assigned to me. Her purpose was to follow me in the spiritual realm using Astral Projection.

My mother told me that I had extreme tantrums from a young age, during which I would lift off my feet and be flung into the wall. I know now that this was a result of demonic possession, but my parents didn’t know that back then.

My parents lived in a flat in Sunnyside, Pretoria, around this time. We had a few strange spiritual experiences here. Like one day, for example, my brother Rudolph and I had been playing in our parents’ room. There was an old vanity table with a tall mirror. Suddenly, a dark entity emerged out of this mirror. It placed its hands on my brother, and me and announced that it had a plan and purpose for both of us. Suffice it to say, we were terrified, but when we tried to tell our parents about this, they simply shrugged it off.

With my dad being in the occult, he had plenty of occult literature, including books on the Kabbalah, Astrology, and Black Magic (I won’t mention the names), which I had access to as a child. Most of these books were special imports, as regular bookstores didn’t stock them.

As with the Bible, which means nothing unless the Holy Spirit gives life to it, these occult books had satanic agents attached to them that gave power to those who read and practiced its teachings. However, even if you don’t practice the teachings in these books, they are still very powerful. If you only just have these books in your possession, you immediately become a target for Satan.

We subsequently moved on to Valhalla, and this city played a big part in me and my brother’s lives. The name Valhalla is from Norse mythology; it was the hall of Odin and a place where half of the warriors who died in battle went to for an eternity.

In the early morning hours, my brother and I would be visited by strange warriors who looked like Vikings

In the early morning hours, my brother and I would be visited by strange warriors who looked like Vikings, with helmets, long hair, and scruffy beards. We often saw them around the house, and they brought about a great fear in us. These Vikings imparted special “Knowledge” to me, like knowing how to predict the future.

Sometimes, at night, I would levitate above my bed – there were entities that lifted me up. I could feel their fingers gripping onto me. There were other times when I would see smoke rising from the cupboard; I was very scared of that cupboard. All of this happened because, from a very young age, I was able to walk in both spirit and flesh.

School Years:

When I was six years old, my parents decided to send me to nursery school. It was a horrible experience for me, as the teacher hated me. She had the same look in her eyes like my mother, the same expression and voice that would change.

I didn’t know at the time of the witch controlling her in order to bring about fear and rejection. The teacher humiliated and degraded me constantly, telling me that I had no right to be on earth. I cried from the morning right until my mom fetched me in the afternoon.

Because of all this, a demonic fire began to rage in me; it was a deep hatred of authority figures, children, women – and life.

My Grade 1 teacher also disliked me and humiliated me just as much. One day, during math class, I couldn’t figure out the answer to 5+5=10. When I gave the wrong answer, she forced me to stand up in front of the class and sing that I was stupid and couldn’t even do maths, much to the children’s amusement.

Read the rest of part 1 in our magazine on pages 30-34