He used to go to youth group. Now he goes to the basement. The enemy doesn’t need to break down doors when he can use WiFi and watermelon-flavored nicotine.
I need to share something with you today. Something that has been weighing on my spirit like a millstone around the neck of a man being cast into the sea, as Scripture describes. There is a spiritual attack on my family, and I need you to understand what that means.
My son, Kyle, is 28 years old. He lives in my basement. Furthermore, he works part-time at a place called “Cloud 9 Vapes”—and friends, I want you to hear that name. Cloud Nine. As if ascending to clouds through vapor is something to aspire to. As if there’s a heaven you can buy for $40 a week in disposable pods. The enemy is clever. The enemy has a marketing department.
This Spiritual Attack On My Family Has A Flavor Profile
Let me be clear: this is not a parenting failure. Instead, this is spiritual warfare, and I need you to understand the difference. The difference is that one of them is my fault and the other one is demons.
Kyle was raised in the faith. He went to Vacation Bible School for eleven consecutive summers. Moreover, he memorized the books of the Bible in order—both testaments. He once played Young David in our church’s Easter pageant. Consequently, he knew the sword drills. He knew the armor of God. He was on track.
Then, somewhere around age 23, something shifted. He stopped coming to church. Subsequently, he started coming home smelling like artificial strawberry. He said he was “figuring things out.” And now he vapes Blue Razz Lemonade in my basement while I pray for his soul fifteen feet away, separated by a bookshelf and the chasm between salvation and mango-flavored apostasy.
The Enemy’s Strategy: Vapor And Vapor Accessories
See, the enemy is clever. He doesn’t show up with horns and a pitchfork anymore. That’s old testament tactics. Instead, he shows up with USB-rechargeable devices and a part-time job that doesn’t offer health insurance, which is ironic given what vaping probably does to your lungs, though I’m told “it’s safer than cigarettes” as if that’s a moral argument.
I’ve done research. I’ve looked at the vape flavors Kyle brings home. They have names like “Unicorn Tears” and “Satan’s Smoothie.” I made that second one up but it wouldn’t surprise me. Furthermore, the packaging has cartoon characters on it. As I wrote in my piece about the spiritual warfare behind today’s headlines, this is how the enemy works. He makes sin look fun. He makes rebellion taste like birthday cake.
A Father’s Burden (Literally, I Can Hear Him Through The Floor)
Tammy—that’s my wife—she says I need to give Kyle space. She says he’s an adult. Additionally, she says maybe if I stopped leaving Bible verses on Post-it notes on his gaming monitor, he would join us for dinner more often. But I ask you: is that what Abraham did when Isaac strayed? Is that what the father of the prodigal son did?
Actually, the prodigal son’s father did let him go. Nevertheless, he was waiting. He was prayerful. He was not, I assume, able to hear his son playing something called “Fortnite” at 2 AM through the floor while shouting things that are definitely not Scripture.
I share a basement with my son and we could not be further apart. His side has LED lights that change color. Mine has a whiteboard where I map the end times. Some nights I look at the prophecy chart and then I look at Kyle’s RGB gaming setup and I wonder: is this what Revelation warned us about?
What The Vapor Represents
When Kyle vapes, he’s filling a void. A God-shaped void. And he’s filling it with something called “Sour Apple Ice” that costs $25 and lasts a week. Meanwhile, the love of Jesus is free and lasts forever. However, Kyle says the love of Jesus “doesn’t hit the same.” Those were his words. I’ve been praying about what they mean.
I don’t think vaping itself is inherently sinful. It’s not mentioned in Scripture. Neither is WiFi, but I have concerns about that too. Similarly, neither are energy drinks, and Kyle consumes four per day. The issue is what these things represent: a generation that would rather inhale flavored clouds than breathe in the Holy Spirit.
The Path Forward For Our Family Under Attack
Kyle will find his way back. I believe that. I have to believe that. The prodigal son returned. Likewise, the lost sheep was found. The vape shop will eventually close because how many vape shops can one strip mall support, honestly. There are three within walking distance. That’s not a market. That’s a principality.
Until then, I will pray. I will write. I will continue to speak truth from this platform—this digital pulpit, this ministry that God called me to after the church in Georgia released me for what they called “increasingly concerning social media posts” but what I call “prophecy.”
The enemy is in my basement. But God is in my heart. And we share a single bathroom, so one of us has to yield eventually.
I’m asking that you pray it’s Kyle.
Faith. Family. Freedom from the vapor cloud that smells like blue raspberry and disappointment.
Selah.
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