A Politician’s Beating Saves Her Life

Editor’s Note: Everyday we see political ads and we are on the heat of the 2012 election season. This post is from a friend of mine, Darcy Lagana, who I’ve watched become transformed in front of me during the past couple of years. I like this post because it’s a reminder that the players behind the political scene are people. They have desires, hurts, goals, and dreams, and bruises just like the rest of us. It’s easy to bash a politician. I encourage you to pray instead. One of them could be a Darcy Lagana.


Mark 8:15  “Be careful,” Jesus warned them. “Watch out for the yeast of the Pharisees and that of Herod.”

Darcy Lagana

Most people are unaware that before revival, I was a politician. I was not always the person out in the spotlight, although sometimes I would step out into the media to turn the tides. The ability to use my influence to go public was pull and strength I used only when I felt I had to.

On an average day, I spent it behind the scenes choosing who the next viable candidate would be, writing their speeches, making commercials, getting donors and endorsements, developing their strategies and advising those already in office.

There were many perks to this way of life. I could pretty much travel anywhere in a three state radius and have a job, a place to stay, a free golf game, dinner, private jet flight, coffee, ski trip, condo, etc. People would hand over just about anything to gain your influence and or help you take things in their direction or give them the feeling they were above the law. The entitlement mentality grew on me larger than any welfare check ever could. I believed that because I was smart and influential and that God had put me in position, I deserved all that I had.

Then one day, everything changed. There were some former deputies that I had helped remove from office that spotted me in a local establishment. I left the building in a stretcher and ambulance with some story they concocted about how I had committed a crime. I was beaten and bruised and facing criminal charges.

The only saving grace I had was something my Pastor told me about later. He said that the deputy that showed up to the hospital clearly was supposed to arrest me. The voice of God spoke to him audibly and said, “Do not take her to jail.” I received a ticket and was released to my friends.

The next few months were some of the most difficult and the most amazing. I had to receive neck surgery from the injury and I cried out to God on my bed that I had not yet known His joy.

A friend invited me to watch a sermon at a mutual friend’s house on TV the next Friday night. I reluctantly watched as the songs and testimonies played, followed by the sermon about Israel. I remember Pastor Steve Gray speaking about the fact that we were supposed to become the people that Israel was jealous of. That God should be moving in our midst so mightily that they had to have His presence and favor the way they saw it reflected in our lives.

My life has been completely transformed since I made the decision to move to Kansas City and become a part of this revival. I let go of the political and religious strongholds that were gripping my life and thoughts. I let go of my need to promote or be promoted by anyone but Jesus. I let go of my resort life and luxury lifestyle. I know what would have happened to the rich man if he had given everything and followed Jesus. He would have had it all restored after his loyalties were settled in his heart and healing was coming through his hands.

Today, I know that the yeast of Herod almost killed me, and Jesus already took that position. I do not have to. I can instead fight harder for greater healings in the body, in our cities, in our Nations. I know the hand of God is bigger than any political and religious mountain and that if we remain humbly seeking Him, we will all watch those mountains be thrown into the sea, together.


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