The Turning Point

There comes a point in one’s life when they stop fighting.  You know the person because, hopefully, you are the person who may be the family oddball, black sheep or scapegoat-primarily because you can think for yourself.  When you break the chains of codependency, you truly live in a land of freedom; but may I caution you to maybe, if possible, not argue, harass or demean anyone for any reason-especially for their political or private beliefs.

The past three years have hardened our determination to fight for God and country.  Yet we are weary and battle fatigued; some of us have PTSD, others family in the military.  Basically a group of anonymous patriots who want our God given rights to be protected, our children safe, human trafficking ended.  Our families divided, our friendships lost-it adds up and it is my belief that most of us just want the truth to come out.

Yet we remain in suspended animation, awaiting the other shoe dropping-the one that will send the people you love reeling in thoughts of hopelessness, or helplessness.  I have learned a few things about the Great Awakening, and in so doing Jesus has shown me how to overcome any thoughts of enmity or rage.  I have come through to the other side, through persecution and great grief-and now I want nothing but God, love and peace in my life.

I’m not perfect, I still fight dirty on Twitter when I’m fatigued.  I can meme with the best of them, but I try to do it with humor.  I will not fight, condemn or fear another man.  Simply put?  Don’t harsh my mellow man.

You hide in your mansion, with young people’s blood…   – Dylan

For every fallen angel, demon and predator-to those of you who hide in the dark alleys and crawl the crevices-God have mercy on your souls.

The best we can do, as soldiers of Christ, is allow His love to fill our hearts, His grace to calm our souls.  We need to love one another back to health, one day, one need at a time.

The Storm has finally arrived.

I hear it’s going to be biblical~

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Waves and Wind

Before I begin, I want to talk about the utter joy I feel when I watch this man lead thousands of people in worship.  People have taken great joy in watching the demise of this man, and understandably so-the arrogance, the Taylor Swift! Whom-in a bizarre turn of events not witnessed since Stanley Kubrick produced and directed the moon landing-is now a part of the Illuminati while Ye has turned to Jesus.

Those jaded will think me naive.

Those enlightened by the Holy Spirit will see what I do, if they listen to their hearts.  Which brings me to my next subject.

In loving memory of Barbara Elkins~

A few years ago, I stormed my physician’s office after three months of getting the run around.  I was wearing my white, tattered robe and fuzzy bunny slip ons.  My hair had been drenched in sweat from fever, and matted to my head.  Every inch of my body was in pain, and I meant business.

I’ve done my research, I have Lyme disease.  Please give me 30 Doxycycline and a shot of Toradol.

The doctor, aghast-apologized so many times that I had to intervene.

Please, you’re human.  It’s okay.

The now hysterical doctor was in tears.  Five minutes later it was I who was in tears, as they sent my Lyme riddled body for testing-all I wanted was my bed, but you can’t always get what you want.  They sent me for an ultrasound, because my lymph node was the size of a grapefruit.  That, in turn, led to a transvaginal biopsy (without the lidocaine ladies-she was a bitch)  By the time the tests were completed, my Lyme symptoms had long before vanished.

My sister and I could be physicians without going to med school.  We grew up with a very ill mother, and picked up-as if  by osmoses-a vast knowledge of anything that has anything to do with the medical field.  Our collective hypochondria added to that vocabulary-the worst book ever written?  That big, fat medical encyclopedia that explained any and all illnesses.  My siblings and I would spend hours upon hours reading the news of our impending demise, running from friend to grocery store cashier for advice on our latest and greatest ailment.

Did you ever swallow in a way that your sphincter muscle twitched and the backfire caused pain in your anus?

Oh, it didn’t matter how mortifying the question, we would not be reassured unless ten to twenty of our nearest and dearest had given us satisfaction.  Looking back it isn’t in the least bit humorous, as we wasted the best years of our lives like Woody Allen in Annie Hall.  It’s hard to enjoy life when you think people are poisoning your food, or worse, telling you about their recent harrowing brush with death.  I mean, how TERRIFYING!!!

All of this preface was necessary, and in the following prose you will understand why.

A few months ago, I found my grade school report cards in my father’s filing cabinet.  I opened them with great anticipation, as I assumed I had been a reasonably intelligent child.  What I found shook my very foundation:

Michele continues to resist any form of discipline.  She struggles with social structures and often retreats from the group.

Michele is having trouble with motor skills a child of her age should have mastered by now.  She isn’t able to skip and will not pass unless she can show improvement in this arena.

Michele continues to have difficulty with division.  I will send exercises home with her, please follow through and test her skills often.   I don’t want to hold her back a year.

One day, my eye caught this video about Asperger’s syndrome.  Odd, I thought.  My video subscriptions are either music, history or politics.  I wasn’t subscribed to this channel.  Apparently, God wanted to get my attention. He had it.

On the third visit to my family physician, he tested me.  To my utter shock, he confirmed my suspicions.  On one of the tests I took, where 34 was the cut off for Asperger’s-I scored a 41.  I wasn’t convinced.  Why hadn’t someone caught this sooner?  I loved my family pediatrician, Dr. Shultheis.   He was a capable and compassionate physician.  Wouldn’t he have picked up on it?

Here’s the rub:  my early years (beginning at age 3) were spent in and out of the hospital.  I had Pyelonephritis and required multiple surgery.  I spent months at a time trying to recover from the latest surgery, latest dilation.  It was painful and I came to the point where every time my mother made lasagna or meatballs?  I knew what was coming, another painful hospital stay.

In my early teens I developed anorexia.  That required a tremendous amount of money and work on my poor mother’s part.  By the time I married my husband at thirty one, my teeth and hair had been ravaged by malnutrition.

My point?  There was always something else going on, something that took any thoughts of curing my depression, anxiety and other issues out of our minds.

The need to isolate.

The hours and hours I spent in my bedroom, headphones on, rocking back and forth in my hanging wicker chair.

My trouble with angry outbursts, extreme sensitivity, a shyness that came off as arrogance to everyone around me.  My intense desire for routine and structure.  My heightened senses:  I can smell a dead mouse from a mile away, and I hear things my husband tells me I have no business hearing, as in–

How in the HELL did you hear that?

I attributed it to the Elkins nose, the hearing to a God given gift.

My name is Michele.  I have spent my entire journey searching for answers to my need to isolate, my fear of dirt and germs, my utter lack of common sense, and my passion for music.  Why couldn’t I manage my temper?  Why did I become so enraged?  Why did loud noises cause me such anxiety?  Why did I lack the common sense, the street smarts others seemed to own?

Why God, was I so incredibly different from everyone I had ever had the pleasure of meeting?  And how did I build this incredible wall around my heart after years of rejection and ignorance?

This is my journey, my cross to bear.

  My newest friend, a young Mennonite girl named Jolene, is a cashier at our local Good’s.  I was drawn to her love and compassion.  Last week I burst into tears while buying a can of paint.  Her precious heart was evident when she came around to embrace me.

“Would you like to have my youth group sing to you tomorrow?,” her angelic smile lit up her beautiful face.

And so it was, that ten of God’s angels sang The Old Rugged Cross in my tiny living room.  The Grinch’s heart let loose a sigh, and thanked the God she worshipped for blessings in disguise.

 

 

 

 

I Need You Now

 

I have a condition, it’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Under control about 95% of the time, it never fails to shock me, to shake my foundation-when I am triggered?  I fall completely apart.  The answer doesn’t lie in what triggered me at any particular moment in time.  No, the answer is letting go and letting God.

But what if you are angry with Abba at that moment in time?  Will He hear you?  Will he even give you an ear?  I used to think that if I pissed my Lord and Savior off, (the unhinged, unabridged, unadulterated meltdown comes with the caveat:

Great, now you’ve done it.  Who’s going to listen to you now?  Who will come to your aid when you call out in dire need?  Who will rock you to sleep with His own special lullaby, one that eases every crevice of your heart, one that puts you to sleep as if an army of angels lay at your feet?

The answer, as you well know, is Jesus.  Abba.  The Son of Man.  Prince of Peace, Alpha and Omega.  There is nothing, nothing on this planet, that can steal God’s love from you.  You are His beholden, His beloved child.  If you can’t cry out to God whilst in heavy duty emotional pain, well then, who?

We are in the middle of a storm, one that is blasting us with up to 65 mph winds.  I am contrary by nature-just tell me that I cannot do something and you can rest assured that is the exact thing I will yearn to do.  Hiking is out, so Fido (my nickname for my golden retriever, Jesse) and I are left to our own devices.  I have sinus issues due to a deviated septum.  Remind me to tell you that story, holy crap on a cracker it’s a good one!  Of course, I ended up with a bloody, broken nose and a lawsuit-the perp?  My best friend and roommate, Lisa Walling.  I digress….back to my angst.

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What drove me to put my head back and scream like a child?  Many things, actually.  It never ceases to amaze me, the strength God has given me for a time such as this:  I am a rock most days, because of His mercy and grace.

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

For the last year and a half, I have fought the good fight-at least when it comes to the Great Awakening.  I have researched subjects such as Child Trafficking, The Deep State Cabal, Satanic Ritual Abuse, the dozens of attempts on President Trump’s life-and as I watched the latest video from The Patriot Hour (love that man, go check him out, tell him I sent you) explaining Nancy Pelosi’s latest attempt at foiling The Donald.  Her mission?  To assassinate the President and Vice President-making her the first female president, and God help me, who wants THAT?

The story goes that she took 93 of her closest friends, family and politicians with her on a commercial flight to Afghanistan, among other destinations.  The unmitigated nerve of that woman-to once again try to put it on our tab-she is known for spending thousands and thousands of tax payer dollars on booze.  She is unfathomably rich, and on a government salary-it makes you wonder.  Just take a look at her district, but fair warning, you may become physically ill, or perhaps fall into a blind rage, as I just did, in my laundry room.

So, as I said, it surprises me that I can research evil incarnate, but my dog barking to go out for the thirteenth time in an hour (he does it for treats) in the midst of an almost-hurricane?  Well, that had me squealing like a hogtied pig.

“Arggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And of course, after screaming at my dog (never, ever have I done that) I broke down into hysterics; ranting and raving, then begging His forgiveness.  I sat down with my pooch and apologized, over and over again.  He kissed my tears away, sat beside me on the couch, as if to say-it’s okay mom, I get it, I really, really do.

I sat down and pondered my throbbing headache, urge to pound sand and other messy, complicated feelings.  Lord, where is this coming from?

And He answered me, and quickly at that.

This Border Wall argument has nothing to do with illegals, or even a border wall…bare with me.  The elite of this world are vampires, who suck the blood out of innocent, traumatized children for adrenochrome.  I have seen evidence of this.  If the country closes its doors to illegal aliens, then where will the Cabal get their blood?  Illegals are easy to target, we have no record of them-when they go missing?  No one but their families know-and how can they prove what happened to their beloved son, daughter, brother, sister, friend?

With acoustic astronomy, scientists are able to observe and listen to the sounds and vibrations of space.  They have found that stars don’t orbit in silence, but rather generate music in the mysterious night sky.  Like humpback whale sounds, the resonance of stars exist at wavelengths or frequencies that may not be heard by the human ears.  Yet, this music, combined with that of the whales and other creatures create a symphony that proclaims the greatness of God.

Now, a question for you.  Who will you turn to when the laughter abets, the tide turns to red, or the evil permeates the air you breathe?

As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

 

 

 

There Was a Formula

My freakishly large head is spinning, I am reticent to say this-you know, like when you state out loud that your  marriage is better than it’s ever been, and then you have the worst fight ever; so I’ll just put this out there:  the last few days of my life have been, for lack of a better word-perfect.

My idea of perfection is one of very simple values.  My faith and Jesus come first, and I cling to His robes each and every day.  After that?  The health and emotional welfare of my husband, my dog and myself.  I married a man I am still crushing on, and he is my best friend.  I am sober, my depression is lifting as we head towards Fall. My flower beds are bursting with Zinnias, roses, butterfly bushes and bubble gum pink petunias.  We like our new place of worship, and the pastor is red pilling my husband.  Bliss.   I have a Lord and Savior who loves me, passionately, as He loves you.

There is no fear nor condemnation in Christ.

I was reading out of the book of Proverbs just now

I see a change in the direction of my writing.   The focus  will be the same: Christ-centered, authentic and sassy-it’s the way I roll, so thank you all for reading my musings! It is my constant prayer that they will reach the eyes that bleed for comfort and community. Here goes nothing!

QUOTE OF THE DAY:

The really important things in life can’t be said, only shown.
– Ludwig Wittgenstein

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A while back I wrote about a friend from church who had told me God spoke to her in the early morning hours, about me, about my loneliness-as she was going down her prayer list. Unable to sleep, Lisa grabbed her Holy Bible, and asked the Holy Spirit to guide her in prayer. When she came to my name, the message was loud and clear:

She will have beautiful and meaningful relationships. She went on to try to explain just how much of a blessing this would be, but she cried with me instead.

I think of her and that moment often, even daily. Over the past few years, I have traded my sob story for one of real and true joy and reconciliation. Sadly, some of the changes did not suit a few of the people I had been holding on to; long after I knew that there was little left to grasp.

SCRIPTURE OF THIS GLORIOUS DAY

Kind people do themselves a favor, but cruel people bring trouble on themselves. -Proverbs 11:17 NCV

I quietly walked away from those who knew me as my former self. The friends who knew me to be a people pleasing, bleeding heart doormat-who allowed herself to be treated very poorly. I cannot stress the importance of one of the keys to happiness: you’ve heard this a million, zillion times before, but if you don’t love yourselfit will be impossible to gain the respect and love of others.

Although I have decided to keep the posts about Narcissistic Abuse and Complicated Post Traumatic Stress Disorder to the bare minimum (I have seen professionals who suffered at the hands of a narcissist make careers out of helping other survive the phenomena. While I respect the hell out of these people, I can not, will not allow this family tragedy define who I am. In order to survive, I am putting the past where it belongs. At the moment, the California fires are raging: these are not the usual forest fire-and they are headed oh so steadily towards my brother and his family. I have no way of knowing if they are okay. I have no way of knowing if ANY of my family is okay; so I will let go and let God.

However, there is so much to be said for sticking to your guns-not allowing others to control the narrative. Guard your heart, that’s what the Lord says-and in doing so I have emerged as if a Phoenix rising: finally able to be myself. No peanut gallery comments, such as:

After years of struggling with alcoholism and depression:

“Are you on the right medication? I think you may be Bipolar.”

After hosting mon frère for lunch (last time we spoke, in August)

“Quite sure you suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. Have a great weekend.” Sent via email. And after telling my estranged sister not to bother showing up at my funeral:

“You fucked up Michele. YOU FUCKED UP.” This, by the way, from my “best” friend who almost killed my cat while we were in upstate NY last year on vacation.

SONG OF THE DAY

Oh, Happy National Dog Day, by the by.

My sweet boy.  Jesse Bocephus Happy Hoffmananoff.  Stay 6!

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Ringing The Bell

Now that I finally have the time to sit and write what has been on my head and heart?  I find myself at a loss for words.  Earlier today, I felt the Holy Spirit tug at my heart.  After convincing myself that a few of the YouTube channels I frequent had to go?  I had to admit, the honing of my discernment is pleasing to my soul.  What people just don’t understand?  We are told by God (it’s in the bible, in many a scripture) to be seekers of the truth.

The truth.

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Again, it would be swell if WordPress could make my inserts just a TAD smaller.

Okay, zoom this picture as high as you can without distortion.  The person in the very back, with the watch?  That is John F. Kennedy, Jr. himself.  He is alive.  It isn’t a conspiracy theory gone wild, it isn’t a lie, and it isn’t fake news.

JFK, Jr. walks amongst the living.  He has two children, a daughter and a son.  He is the master of disguise, having learned makeup in the Drama department of an Ivy League School.  He shows up in the strangest places, and I laugh each and every time I miss the clue, and then it’s obvious when someone points it out.

John F. Kennedy, Jr. will be running for Vice President in the coming election.  I’d bet good money on this, and the only question is when.  When will he show his gorgeous mug?

There is a battle, a Spiritual battle that is being fought on the frontlines of the Donald J. Trump administration.  Pedophiles and human traffickers are being arrested in droves, more than at any time in presidential history.  That makes sense, as the last four presidents were needy baby, greedy babies.  Demons, if you will.  They sent our men and women to wars that had no reasoning, simply for profit.  They were in the penthouse suites, toasting with the Dom, cheering each other on.

“We fooled ’em again!  We took their kids, their livings, their hope!  Hail satan!!!”

That’s right.  Can you smell what I am stepping in?

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But God had more He wanted to show me.  I see how many people are falling for the change in narrative, the subtle whispering that Trump is not winning, that he is to blame for the last two mass shootings (Cabal initiated) or that anything but good things are happening.

There is no room for fear, God anointed Trump for this very time in biblical history.

The epic era in which one third of this world will be eradicated from planet earth.

All evil will come to light.

And then I did my Bible dip and came upon my favorite book, 2 Corinthians.

Finally, brethren, farewell.  Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace shall be with you.

Greet one another will an holy kiss.  All the saints salute you!

The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost be with you.

Be still, and know that He is God.

I Choose Joy

 

Momma never told me there’s be days like this, and that’s because momma didn’t know.  I often wonder what my beloved parents in Heaven think, when they look down at all of the despair, the outright terror and searing pain.  And then I remember, there are no tears, no pain, not even a stubbed toe! in Abba’s Heaven.

My parents know that their children are living in the end days.  I often look up and say, “it’s alright, mom and dad, Jesus has this.”  And again, I remember that they have a totally different perspective in that realm.

I spent the last week being red-pilled myself, and it wasn’t pretty.  I look back and think to myself, what the hell just happened?  Where am I?  Who am I?  And the answer is always the same:  I am in the arms of our Creator-no matter what the world is doing, saying or debating.  I need to remember from whence I came-and remind myself that I was born for such a time as this.

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For the last two years I have immersed myself in the real life battle between good and evil; played out in living technicolor on YouTube, Twitter and the evening news.  I have neglected my family, my husband and myself.  More disturbing, I set off on a journey I thought was imperative, only to find out that it was a drop in the ocean, an atom among molecules if you will.

I thought I was following the right Patriots, turns out I wasn’t.  I feel betrayed, but schooled as well.  What was I thinking?  Me, a puny human-and Jesus, THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD!  Don’t misunderstand me, I had the correct information alright-it was the PAYtriots who had me, and by the balls.  I don’t believe in coincidences, I never have.  And so it was, one day last week, when a man who plays a pretty important role in the NSA and current administration, happened to be tweeting about the same information that had me awake at night:  who was this Dustin Nemos (aka, Dustin Craig Krieger) who came out with the Amazon bestseller about QAnon?  And more importantly, why was he taking credit for the entire Great Awakening?  Why did it bother me, I mean, what do I care?  But here’s the thing:  my conscience couldn’t, wouldn’t let it go another minute.

I teamed up with this man Morpheus on Twitter.  I knew nothing of him, only that I had been following him for two years.  I asked him his opinion on the matter-what transpired between us was a friendship I could never have foreseen.  He knew things.  He knew things no one else seemed to know.  He was a bad ass for sure, and he set me straight on quite a few things.  We worked together for a week, had a good laugh or two, and shared our testimonies.  Actually, he shared his-turns out he had died at the hands of a vicious gang, as a young man.  The brawl began in a bar and ended in a playground across the street.  And as he lay there, his vision changed-he saw himself, on the ground, bleeding, dying, and alone.

Enter Jesus, stage left.

He did not go on to explain the private exchange, but suffice it to say?  I believe every word.  Morpheus had a near death experience, and it changed him in profound and intangible ways.  He left a mark on my soul, and for that I am grateful.  More importantly?  He reminded me of what is truly important, and that God will give you the strength you need to endure the plans He has made.

And so it was that Abba, Jesus and I made a new plan-one in which I get to live out loud, play in the woods, work in my garden, write at whim.  I no longer carry my pc from room to room.  I don’t watch videos, I don’t tweet my fool head off.

You see, if you have the faith of a minute mustard seed?  You can achieve good and great things-by praying, sharing and loving the God who created you with all of your heart and soul.

I did my job.

I planted the crap out of that seed.

I will be taking my readers through the entire time line of events, beginning with the video featured below.  I pray this comforts and enlightens you-I will be supplying you with information from the No B.S. Zone, as I’ve learned my lesson about who and who not to trust.  See?  I just made it so much easier for you.  🙂

I will leave no stone unturned.

The choice to know will be yours.