Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometime……

Sweet Holy Moses I have a burdened mind.  A few blogs back I addressed the Illuminati, but I had no idea how vast the evil, how tortured these souls must be, even knowing fame and fortune was what they sold out for, they certainly deserve redemption.  And I know, deep in my heart, I know that God is trying to tell me something.  But what?

A few days ago I was at the Mary Gate of Heaven festival, where the best ever apple dumplings are sold, and lots of books…..for 25 cents a pop.  While my husband went to find a sausage sandwich, I ventured into the auditorium, where every kind of book,  and all kinds of genres fare sold.  I was so overwhelmed I said a little prayer, asking for His guidance in shopping.  I had five dollars to my name, but this turned out to be a burden:  I couldn’t spend that whole five bucks, I ended up giving the change to the church.  It was a dollar and change, but they were so grateful………What did I end up with?  Dean Koontz’s The Door to December, for one.  And as I delighted in choosing one of the many novels I bought, it turned out that this was the first one I read.

What knocked the wind out of my sails was the subject matter:  MK Ultra Mind Control.  After months of viewing Black Child‘s videos on YouTube, involving the very same subject matter, I had to ask……..what are you trying to tell me Jesus?  Today, while driving myself crazy, getting in my own way and injuring myself in the garden with a brutal hoe-to-the-shin debacle, something hit me-and it hit me hard, full throttle, in your face hard. 

I was watching a video about pedophiles and child abduction/trafficking.  I was suddenly struck by a thought so haunting, I almost lost my breakfast.  As a child we went to Catholic church, and my parents had a doting subject in Father Wassail; when there was trouble at home, the priest would come and pick my brother and I up, and drive us in to Philadelphia.  It occurred to me that I was dropped off alone at this woman’s house, for an entire day, into the evening.  Why wasn’t my brother with me and where exactly was he whilst I was entertained by this stranger?  What is blocking my memory?  Why can’t I summon up the courage to face what I keenly believe to be a horrible trauma in my sibling’s life? Why am I being inundated with the mind control materials every which way I turn?

I need to take this to my Abba, secure in the knowledge that whatever we find in the cobwebs and dust will bring light and not darkness.  These incomplete memories have haunted me for years, yet deep down I know that in my weakness, that is where He meets me, and only then am I strong.

 

 

 

 

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