Religion
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God, This morning, I wake up once again with a heavy heart, wondering how the world is ever going to come out of the darkness that seems to have taken control, slowly choking it. I know you see it, too—the hatred, the violence, the way people tear each other apart over things that should bring
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This event took place during the time when I was writing my book, Confrontation with Evil, which was the true story of the St. Louis exorcism case. Numerous strange events took place during the writing of that book. This was just one of them.
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Wes Craven once said, “Horror films don’t create fear. They release it.” That’s because fear isn’t something lurking in the shadows—it’s already inside us, waiting for the right moment to claw its way out. We like to think monsters are external, that they come from the outside world to destroy us. But the real horror?
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I always start a conversation with a paranormal client the same way: “What do you think it is?” That question does more than just break the ice—it hands the power right back to the person experiencing the phenomenon. After all, they’re the expert on their own life, their fears, their memories. I’ve learned that when
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Sunday. For many, it’s a day of church services, sermons, and hymns. For me, it’s a time of reflection. But not in a pew. Not in a building. And definitely not under the authority of an institution that has caused so much harm. Here’s the truth: I am deeply spiritual. My connection to the divine
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Faith. It’s a word that’s followed me like a shadow, shifting shape depending on the light I cast on it. For years, I’ve turned it over in my mind, trying to grasp its edges, only to find it slipping through my fingers like smoke. Merriam-Webster offers definitions—”strong conviction,” “complete trust,” “belief in God,” “firm belief
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December 2017. The air smelled like the holidays and pine needles. We stood in a room full of people who’d fought for us, cried for us, waited for us. My hands shook holding the marriage license—a piece of paper I never thought I’d get to sign. Seven years later, I still remember the way my
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I know I drive some of you crazy with my constant barrage of queer content. Trust me, I get it. But here’s the thing—you have to understand that my posts aren’t really for you. And I’m certainly not trying to change the minds of the far-right extremists who have already decided to rationalize their hatred.
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As a survivor of the infamous Screaming House haunting, I approached Steven Soderbergh’s “Presence” with both anticipation and skepticism. After watching it tonight, I must say it might not resonate with everyone — it does have its imperfections. However, it stands out as one of the most authentic portrayals of a haunting I’ve experienced in
Steven LaChance Blog 