S.O.S.

Original post dated February 2020

I will send out an army to find you!

Good Friday morning to you all. Patriots are in control! Our children are being rescued by the thousands: soon the Deep State will be nothing but a bad dream and our beloved Donald J. Trump is gunning for the pedophiles, the vampires and he will not fail. Find comfort in your families, friends-but most importantly? Dress yourselves in the full armor of God.

My apologies for not writing for a week, but my methods were twofold: [they] shut down my computer immediately after I wrote my blog on Somerset Belenoff. I was infuriated! Second laptop in two years, but hey, this time I will ask for the VPN special package, and I might even throw a few bucks in for the latest program that incudes Grammarly, etc.

The second reason is this-it just so happened that I was kicked off Twitter the very same day! I don’t know how you felt? But the Super bowl (there was an option for Superb Owl in spell check???) half time show took me from the edge of the cliff right on down to the very bottomless pit of despair, rage and nausea.

I know there are those of you who are screaming WHAT’S WRONG WITH IT? Sugar, if you knew what I knew? You’d be whistling Dixie right there beside me, in the pit.

Shakira’s tongue gyrations and Oscar winning viper performance put me off.

I am a bit short on the uptake, but I realized in short order that God wanted me to take a break. I was at the point that I had pretty much sacrificed any semblance of a life for the past three years-although my friends were frantically searching for me, it felt so liberating! I won’t have a new pc for awhile so-from here on out it will be Saturdays or Sundays when my husband’s computer is available.

I felt a push from the Holy Spirit to check in on you all, to let you know I am praying and loving you on all days-and my future blogging will be centered on The Great Awakening and giving you the comfort and information to make as smooth of a transition as possible. I know in my heart that Jesus cleared a path for me to write for this very reason, and please let me know of any questions/concerns you would like me to address.

I was beating myself up pretty good the other day; it surprised me as I hadn’t gone there in some time. I find that there is always a reason and never a coincidence that God allows us to go through any hardship. The last years was a doozy, but that’s why it’s called the Tribulation and not Super Duper Hilarious Happy Hour. There will be days where you will want to give up, or even get scared. Fear is the biggest liar of all time, and this I know because I believed a lifetime of lies that had nothing to do with reality.

If you are feeling broken, call out His name. And one more thing-we are winning the battle, we are the victors in this game-God promised us this.

The meek shall inherit the earth.

He Heard My Cry

As hard as I may try, I can’t shake the restlessness in my Spirit. Just two days ago I was telling Jesus that I thought myself incapable of crying one more tear. Not so, not so.

My heart is heavy and I don’t want to feel this way. I am a hopeful person, I run from depression at warp speed-I want nothing to do with it, and God knows this. It’s more of a deep seated sorrow. I know too much and not enough. I could no more take my eyes off of the spiritual warfare happening worldwide than I could pull out my eyelashes. This is what we have been praying for, this time. The children are indeed being rescued, and God will punish those who have as much as touched a hair on any child’s head. We must take comfort in that. We must.

I suppose reality is settling in. I’ve known this information for three years, but knowing and seeing are two different things. I am not quite sure if I can possibly prepare you for what is coming in the news-but I can steer you in the right direction. Just when I feel as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders, I look up.

Jesus comes to me and lifts me from the depths of utter despair. And for as long as I can allow myself to cling, I do. I just want to go back to sleep and awaken from this nightmare. I know you all feel the same way, and I am praying for you-prayers move mountains.

I will leave you with the knowledge that you can do ALL things through Christ who will strengthen you.

For when you are weak, only then are you strong.

Not that you asked for it, but my advice is to pray for the victims and medical professionals who are facing this crises. I have heard many are suffering from mental breakdowns and overwhelming grief. Take care of your families-treasure every moment. We shall not be moved.

S.O.S.

I will send out an army to find you~

My apologies for not writing for a week, but my methods were twofold: [they] shut down my computer immediately after I wrote my blog on Somerset Belenoff. I was infuriated! Second laptop in two years, but hey, this time I will ask for the VPN special package, and I might even throw a few bucks in for the latest program that incudes Grammarly, etc.

The second reason is this-it just so happened that I was kicked off Twitter the very same day! I don’t know how you felt? But the Super bowl (there was an option for Superb Owl in spell check???) half time show took me from the edge of the cliff right on down to the very bottomless pit of despair, rage and nausea.

I know there are those of you who are screaming WHAT’S WRONG WITH IT? Sugar, if you knew what I knew? You’d be whistling Dixie right there beside me, in the pit.

Shakira’s tongue gyrations and Oscar winning viper performance put me off.

I am a bit short on the uptake, but I realized in short order that God wanted me to take a break. I was at the point that I had pretty much sacrificed any semblance of a life for the past three years-although my friends were frantically searching for me, it felt so liberating! I won’t have a new pc for awhile so-from here on out it will be Saturdays or Sundays when my husband’s computer is available.

I felt a push from the Holy Spirit to check in on you all, to let you know I am praying and loving you on all days-and my future blogging will be centered on The Great Awakening and giving you the comfort and information to make as smooth of a transition as possible. I know in my heart that Jesus cleared a path for me to write for this very reason, and please let me know of any questions/concerns you would like me to address.

I was beating myself up pretty good the other day; it surprised me as I hadn’t gone there in some time. I find that there is always a reason and never a coincidence that God allows us to go through any hardship. The last years was a doozy, but that’s why it’s called the Tribulation and not Super Duper Hilarious Happy Hour. There will be days where you will want to give up, or even get scared. Fear is the biggest liar of all time, and this I know because I believed a lifetime of lies that had nothing to do with reality.

If you are feeling broken, call out His name. And one more thing-we are winning the battle, we are the victors in this game-God promised us this.

The meek shall inherit the earth.

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~

the-thin-crows

 

 

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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 Pexels.com

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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