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.

Wild Child

 

I remember my sister and myself, attending a party years ago; my childhood friend Mark was dating a real hum dinger-no one particularly liked her, but she was honest, in a crippling kind of way.  I overheard this observation:

Well, if it isn’t Twisted Sister and Little Bo Peep.

I knew I wasn’t meant to hear her, but I have bionic ears.  My husband marvels at the fact that even when the television is playing at a deafening  volume, I can hear a tiny field mouse in a bag of chips on the other side of the house; or the kitchen door alarm, dryer buzzer and what the neighbors are discussing at any given moment in time.  I kid, of course-I don’t want to know what my in laws talk about, believe me.

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Here is a random, blurry picture I took, with a random pet’s foot.

Anyhooser, as I was saying, this girl Mark was dating had no clue who she was messing with.  My catchphrase used to be-

Don’t F with a mother F-er. 

and I had the reputation to boot!  I have never taken kindly to the idiocy of some people, and quite frankly?  I told people off with wild abandon.  But there was a missing link, alas, I could not do the same with the people in my life that needed to be kicked in the ass; and then, later in life?  The codependency.  In essence, I pick my battles with great care-but I can be one scary bitch if I need to be.

Yes, I have an Irish temper, yet God has carefully redirected my rage via hiking, gardening and Kayaking.  I grew up in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania-best known for the Court at King of Prussia.  I lived there before the mall, when there was nothing but the Valley Forge shopping center.  As I grew closer to graduating from high school, I knew from a place deep down inside me, that I would not stay.  The mere thought of running into the cheerleaders who had turned their nose at me for years- in some run down 7-eleven, whilst buying a pack of Marlboro lights.  I think you smell what I’m about to step in: I was a wild child.

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The simple things are the most breath taking~

I was a loner as well, still am, to this day.  I could lose myself for hours in the woods-and back then, there was little danger of being kidnapped, bludgeoned or left for dead in the middle of a country road (that happened years later, when I was hit be a drunk on a Harley.  I was the drunk on the road)  Good times.

As a child, I questioned everything.  My poor mother must have wanted to shove a sock in it, on more than one occasion.  One day, I was about four (so the story goes) when I stormed into the kitchen and announced that I would one day be living on a farm, and nobody was going to change my mind.  It gives me chills that I ended up doing just that.

A farmette,  but a farm nonetheless.  An outdoor cat colony (thirteen at present) and indoor cat colony of four, and a golden retriever.  I live in Amish country, and haven’t returned to King of Prussia since my father passed away-no reason to.  I remember sighing with relief, when we made frequent trips to see daddy, once we took our exit on the turnpike.  Once you take the girl out of the city?  It’s virtually impossible to get her back.

As I have grown in my faith I have learned, and on some level always known, that my peace and joy would come from the simplest of things: a snail shell found in a corn field, the ice formations on maple leaf, the snow fall on a Winter’s day, a spider’s web of antique lace.  I recently wondered to myself if I would ever grow up, and the Holy Spirit led me to this bible passage:

How many are your works, Lord!  In wisdom you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.                                                         Psalm 104:24

Look at life through the eyes of a child-and there you will see His splendor and majesty.

Be blessed~

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.

 

 

 

Uphill is Over, Folks…

I wrote this blog months ago, and God wanted me to see it today.  I want to tell you how rich the tapestry of my life has been woven, by God.  As in before, He has blessed me beyond measure, after a dark and trying time.

I learned several things this past week.  I am a firm believer in allowing grief to take its course, to nourish and at the same time reign in our deep despair and downward spiral into darkness.  It is always, always Jesus who brings me up from the muck and mire.  He reminds me, at times subtly and at times in your face, you can’t make this stuff up-synchronicities that literally blow my mind.

I also learned that if you spend enough time in the darkness, it will envelop you.  I may have forced my laughter at breakfast this morning-but the folks in the diner knew no better.  Today I forced myself to be amongst the living, and it helped to lighten the load.  It is both a blessing and curse that I can’t speak of the truth in my rural, conservative town.  This recent trigger means I begin at the beginning, once again.  I will isolate, I won’t trust you, and chances are, I may, unintentionally, hurt your feelings.

That’s my biggest thing.  I can’t stomach the idea of purposefully hurting another human being.  I am this way because I know what it’s like to be sensitive, even overly so at times.  I used to hate my nakedness, the vulnerability out there in the big, bad world.  After daddy died?  I have been walking this earth as an orphan, since his passing-my family has fallen apart.  There are days when I feel his presence, and when I do (oh those cherished moments) I think of my other Father in Heaven.  He knew what He was doing when He put me together, in my mother’s womb.   I wouldn’t change me for the world, but it took decades to live in this space.

So, after working in the garden all day, I jumped into the shower-my phone set on Pandora-the Seneibo Sey channel.  What followed were the most uplifting, refreshing and inspirational Christian songs I had ever heard.  Jesus was speaking to me through the music-and per our usual, He took my hand and removed me from the abyss.

And I have nothing to fear, and neither do you.  Remember who you are in Christ-

 

 

I sat on the couch, my mouth ajar. Come again? ‘Scuse me? What the Harry?

How is it possible that seemingly overnight, my blog had 3,000 visitors, from all over the globe? How does one go from 50 views on average, to 2,328? There is no bravado or pride in my shock-quite the contrary, I am floored.

I looked over the last week of my life. The bad fall, trip to the ER, the head injury I am recovering from. Oh, it didn’t end there. After drinking Chia Kombucha, against my better judgment, I had a case of diverticulitis so ugly, I am still, three days later, passing gas. The pain began Saturday morning, in my gut; by Sunday it had travelled to the pit of my arm-leaving me to wonder: did I break a rib in the fall?

Anyhoosers, as I was crying out to Jesus yesterday, I knew. I knew within the fibers of my very being that the joy would indeed come in the morning. I thought back over the trials and triumphs He has brought me through. The common thread is an overabundance of joy after the lesson is learned. I know that He wanted my attention, and perhaps, had I given it to Him earlier, I could have avoided the shiner of a lifetime.

“God is going to bless us, Jesse. Just you wait and see-it’s going to be beautiful,” I sang just the morning before, to a golden retriever who’s soul, I am convinced, is a mate to my own.

We can be blinded by the negativity of the world, or we can live freely, moment by moment, clinging to the Grace of God. I believe there is a season and time for everything. I know that Trump is winning the war on evil-the evidence of SRA is daunting, and I was brutally reminded of God’s wish that I back off from digging any further-after seeing a clip of HRC, in a slasher movie, with Huma Aberdeen and a child. Yes. This is true. This is fact.

I turned my pc off and head down the stairs for God’s word.

He alone can seek vengeance, and vengeance will be His.

Destiny is Calling Me…

I don’t quite know where to begin, and my mind is racing in seven different directions, in seven different languages. 🙂

I am not fond of speaking of my past, in terms of the darker days. I feel a chill in the air, my mood plummets to the pits of hell-but God took me through those fires for a reason, and I know that my story is your story-you, the addict. And by addiction I don’t mean to chocolate: I’m talking drinking to the point of blackouts; stealing medications from clients; multiple “accidents” and that feeling in the pit of your gut-your guilt, coupled with the pain you are self medicating.

Nasty. Putrid. Bleak.

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“How could I possibly clean myself up? What would I do with all of my raw, searing pain? How could I cope?”

Beloveds, listen to the wise old hoot owl-learn from my mistakes. I spent years running from a traumatic childhood, turned to booze and men, then pills and cocaine. I married the man of my dreams (ok, he is seriously on my nerves today-but we made vows and stuff)and when I had life by the balls? I washed it down the kitchen drain; hook, line and sinker. Ten years of my life are missing, literally. Yet, I am just another sinner, clawing my way out of the rat race; running at warp speed to what I had no idea at the time.

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I ran into the boys from Teen Challenge, an amazing program of hope and sobriety for men of all ages and backgrounds, who have failed in all previous attempts to get sober. Every holiday we see them at our local grocery store. I listened to their stories, we laughed-and cried together. I have an innate connection to the broken-I always will. Even without their stand and wares? I could have picked out those men in a heartbeat.

Addicts have a tell, and it takes one to know one. It’s all in the eyes-which speak to me in various ways. Today it was the look of the haunted. I knew immediately that they were just beginning their journey; the look of sheer panic, yes. But something about them stood out, as if they were old souls or friends I hadn’t seen in some time.

“I just got out of prison, was there for two years. Lost my family, home and job. I tried every program out there, and I relapsed every time-it is an absolute miracle that God found me when He did. It’s Jesus that makes all of the difference! I have my family back, ma’am. And you know who the glory goes to, now, don’t ya?”

Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you. -Deuteronomy 31:8

Every day you don’t take a drink is a miracle.

Be miraculous~

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.

BibleDeu31_6

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.