There's an interesting little story told in the book of Acts, Chapter 19. It's often overlooked, but vitally important.
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The crowds were quite impressed with the power of Paul and Barnabas to cast out demons, so some young men, sons of a Jewish priest, decided to try it too.
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They said all the right words, spoke the name of Jesus, and waited to see what happened. They were religious, after all. It should work.
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But instead of being cast out as the men expected, the demon replied, "I know Jesus, and I know Paul. But who are you?"
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The man in whom the demon resided leaped upon the men and beat them to a pulp. All seven of them!
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The preacher may know your name--you may BE the preacher! The mayor may know your name. The pillars of the church, the community, the Little League may salute your name. Your name may carry enough weight to get you a good table, a good seat, and a good job.
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But until the demons know your name, you have no real power. When your back is against the wall, your good intentions bulldozed, and your abilities depleted. When pretense is stripped away and your Good Citizen Award no longer matters.
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When the battle you fight is not physical, when the chaos surging through your life is out of control, when you need help like you've never needed it before, the only thing that will matter is: Do the demons know your name?
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