Exiled

I have no carrots, I find myself no sticks.  There is an abhorrent storm, raging within my flesh-an unholy war.  I rail at God.  I scare myself screaming at satan, I run from the house in a nightmarish state-I even think the unthinkable.

What impact have I made in the spiritual realms of Good vs. Evil? 

What was the point?

Is the gun upstairs loaded?

For the past three years I have been fighting the good fight over this putrid, evil world.  I had a following on Twitter of over 3000-many of them friends I kept in touch with on a daily basis.  Some reached out to me with their personal stories, and many of us prayed for one another.  Frankly, without my brothers and sisters on Twitter, I feel exiled; banished to the land of gloom and doom that is conservative censorship.

Last night I was notified that my account was “suspended.”  I was not given a reason, I was told the case is closed when I tried to appeal this morning.  They didn’t just suspend my account, they wiped it, clean.  All of my work for the past three years is for naught, I have no way to contact my partners in arms.  My small family of patriots is no longer available to me.

This account does not exist.

Google, Facebook and Twitter are censoring conservatives worldwide, and it appears we can do nothing to fight it.  We are discriminated against because of our Christian belief system, which is, indeed, against the constitutional rights given to us at birth.

Wake up, Sara.  You have no rights.  You are but a cog in the machine, you don’t matter, none of you fighting the good fight matter.  Game over, you lose.

12741973_1244067848955950_7319005441106254020_n

 

It was 10:40 a.m.    I procrastinated sending the paperwork to our new dentist; the receptionist was alarmed when I burst into tears.  Whenever PTSD is triggered?  You are at the mercy of your emotions, your very darkest and troubling thoughts.  Trying to control the trigger is akin to trying to stop an avalanche with a twig.  

“Please just get the paperwork in the mail by today, okay hun?”

I am sick, in my pajamas, and I drive to the local post office.  I argue with the post master, she tells me to come back at 12.

“Please, are you serious?  Do I look like I will be alive at 12 noon?  I am sick, this shit has to go out today, please just two stamps?”

Her face softens.

You have change, right?

Back at the house I waste an entire two hours trying to beat the system and get a new Twitter account.  Every avenue I pursued was a dead end, so now I try to find an attorney.  I will sue their fucking pants off, that’s what I’ll do.

I have finally exhausted myself.  I am too tired, too angry, too depressed to give a crap.  I search the heavens for an answer and am given, once again, nothing.

My husband tells me I have rage issues, I agree.

I don’t know if I will ever get my mojo back.  I am depleted, no fight left.   I smoke some medical weed, and for now I am calm.

Life has shot me down so many times?  Maybe down is where I need to be.

No fight left, not an ounce in me.

D_XaTYOW4AE4bf4

I wanted to help my president.

I wanted to raise awareness about the victims of SRA, and the ruthless monsters in our government, music and entertainment industries who drink their blood at whim, after they torture and rape them for adrenochrome.

I return to my exile in darkness.  I pray for the babies.  I ask His forgiveness~

 

   

 

Imbecile Wind

WARNING              WARNING                  WARNING             WARNING            WARNING

Please proceed with caution.  I am triggered and that means there’s a good chance you may be too, so…don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I was wondering when the dam would break.  Just yesterday I was marveling at the fact that I am not, in fact, in a mental institution after the stress of the past two years.  I say this entirely serious-as a heart attack.  If I had known what lay ahead?  Let’s just say it’s amazing what Jesus can do for one’s health.  Amen!

I have always cared, a bit too much, for people who don’t give a flying fig about me.  It’s my nature to love, and in fact, I find it close to impossible to say anything that would hurt someone else’s feelings.  I cannot stand for bullies, and I just can’t stomach malice.  There is an exception to every rule, and today has been coming for a very long time.

I have always had a cause or two, animals, battered or abused women and children, banning Sharia Law from this country…LGBT rights.  When it came to the real news?  I had not a clue, as I was busy living my life self centeredly; it’s what addicts do best.

Biden, Pence, G.W., Obama, Clinton and their wives were given an envelope. It wasn’t good news.

Here’s the thing.  I woke up in 2015, when working for a client who listened to Rush Limbaugh at volume ear bleed on his Bose.  Religiously.  I was a Democrat at the time and a feisty one at that.  As the days and weeks went by, I learned horrifying details of what Barry Santero and Michael Richards were doing.  I would yell out loud, and ask John, an 85 year old Italian, who had an opinion,  about everything, what in the Harry Belafonte was GOING ON?

“This can’t be, they’re ruining the country.”

“I think he’s the antichrist.”

“Yep, it’s deliberate.  He’s a muslim.”

I conservatized my butt then and there, on the spot.

“Why do you hate that guy?”

I didn’t want to step on any toes, but I began trying to get the word out to my friends and family.

market 04
Here they are, yup, they’re all there! My nearest and dearest…

My situation changed, and I could no longer work due to my PTSD.  Praise God we won my disability case, as to this day I can’t commit to a haircut, let alone job.  The Lyme disease reared its putrid head around this time-I had long days of resting, and I took to the Truther ropes with relative ease.

At first it was Alex Jones, who ended up being a bad actor.  To this day I am unsure of the real truth about some of his theories-he is paid disinformation, don’t forget.  I slowly found my way, with Jesus’ steadfast love and encouragement.  What I learned I can’t unlearn.  And yes, there are days when I wish I could-my life is now pre and post red pill.  I get teary watching certain shows, dreamily thinking of the days when we took life at face value.  When women weren’t men, and presidents didn’t cause race wars, or fund the terrorist militias, or murder innocent children.

That absurd bill for hotdogs that you and I paid for?  It was code.  Code for prepubescent boys.  And yes, Pedogate is real-as real as it gets.  Did I want this information?  NO!!!!  Yet the combination of my dread of being snuck up on and my drive for the truth (it may be a hard pill to swallow, but it will set you free) set me on a three year journey of unpleasantries, life changing belief systems and absolute night terrors.

911-SomePeople46YHNQ5498QPIKAS621FV943

At each and every opportunity, I gently tried to tell the people around me the truth.  It took my husband two years, two years to realize I knew a lot more than him-he did the research himself and came to his own conclusion.  But the years of “Oh honey, you’re hilarious” took its toll on me.

What do you think it does to a person’s soul when no one around them believes one word that comes from their lips?  I can answer that, it ain’t pretty.  And so it was that I phoned my acquaintance Bea today, upon her request, with news of Mike Pence.

I’m really sorry, but it doesn’t look…”

I don’t believe you!!

That moment I felt something growing within; a rage and fury I had yet to know, and it rises again in the retelling.  Who are you going to believe, your friend of ten years of the MSM?  What on God’s green earth would be my motive to lie?  Please, by all means, shed some light on the situation.

I don’t claim to know about the economy, or the plight of today’s farmers; but what I know for certain (that’s what research does folks, it enlightens one) I share.  I don’t go out into the Twilight Zone blindly nor naively.  I had to learn the hard way whom to trust, and how to get at the truth-I have sources with high military intelligence clearances.  John F. Kennedy, Jr. follows me on Twitter-along with some two thousand other people who just happen to assume I have half a brain-and a good one at that.

From this day hence, I shall banish these people from mine kingdom.

If your first name starts with STUPID?  You’re shit out of luck.

AdrenochromeShortageCeline Dion1550757795357

After the Lesson, the Blessing

I wrote this blog last Spring, while in the heat of the horrible moment.  Devastated by an argument with my step son, I simply could not see the forest through the trees.  There was never an apology rendered, but I have forgiven Bud and he knows this.  I like to call this phenomena Grace-but really I just did it for myself and my husband.

Dwain, interestingly enough, has not forgiven him.  Yet there have been great strides towards healing, and rather than trying to be his son’s best friend?  He has risen to the challenge of being a father, i.e. no more tolerating arrogance or disrespect.  I believe we are all closer as a result of his temporary insanity.

When God puts you to the test, and you pass with a combination of trusting His wisdom?  Oh my dear friends, this is when the miracle happens:  a peace that surpasses any understanding-inner joy and self love come out of hiding.  Often, the hard part is recognizing the blessing.  With practice and determination, you can take the gifts from above and pay it forward.   Grace abounds, indeed.

*******************************************************************

I have been having what some would call “hearing hallucinations,” and I know they are real, as real as the grass in the yard, the puffy clouds on the horizon, and the Spring peepers who cry out their mating call at this time of year.

Okay, how do I explain the inexplicable?  I’ll have to go back to the early days, circa 2013, after an incredibly stressful demolition of our church, by Christian Hypocrites who simply took over, spewed their venom and caused one of our pastors to turn to Atheism.  I was distraught over what I then thought to be the end of my life as I  knew it.  I got sober in this chapel, every single person knew my story and they showed me love and grace, not harsh ostracism.  The travesty is, we were beginning to do some amazing spiritual work……we were in sync, and you could feel the Holy Spirit-lifting us up and out of our day to day lives.  And then:  Kaput.

I began to experience a strange, but lovely thinning of the veil, if you will.  I began finding feathers in crazy places-different colors and hues.  I collected twenty of them and put them in a crystal glass.  No explanation for how they came to be in the middle of my bedroom floor; no cat toys missing pieces, no feathered anything to be blunt.  I did not realize they were feathers from the Angels at the time, no not until the last feather was gifted me:  a large, purple beauty, somehow I knew that this would be the last one, and it was.  I have brought these feathers to bedside vigils, to give others the hope of better days to come, when we are once again home, the complete and unwavering love of God, His mercy and forgiveness.

Shortly after the last feather appeared, I had been toying with the New Age.  I came out of that nightmare unscathed, but now things were getting downright eerie.  Five minutes before I was stalked by a half naked man, causing me horrible PTSD symptoms, I heard my angels wings.  So loudly, I turned around as I expected to see a Vulture, or other huge bird looking at me.  Instinctively, I knew what it was.  I believe I was guided by the heavenlies that day, and I have good reason:  the Conservation Officers were doing their annual trail checks that day, and I had the good fortune to run out of the woods and into the arms of the officer who took the case.

One day, I was absolutely driven to get up off my buttocks and take a picture of my back yard.  It was a dreary rainy day, and there was nothing to see…..but listen to myself I did.  As I brought the camera to my eyes, I saw 6 or 7 white crosses-along the garden plot.  If I took the camera away?  Nothing.  Each time I brought that camera into focus, I saw the white crosses, and I felt protected, if not a little shaky.

16143853_10206242243334465_5557113633186249242_o
This picture was taken when I was nudged by the Holy Spirit to snap a pic in fog and drizzle.

Yesterday, while getting out of the shower, I heard those wings again.  I knew the angels wanted me to know they were with me, which scared the bejeepers out of me.  What now?  Why now?  I had to sit for a spell and calm myself down.

So, it is evening and my husband and I are preparing dinner.

“Honey, you know if you need to talk about the Bud (formerly known as my stepson) debacle, I know how much you’re hurting.  I want you to know that I am here for you, and if you need to vent, please do so.”

What he said next was so crazy making, so vile and putrid and everything that goes along with the loss of a child.

“I text him, last week.  I jacked him up and he said there will be no apology forthcoming.

No apology?  That man-child stood in my garage and screamed cruel and untrue things, called me a freak, told me the whole family thought I was a freak.  And, as it turned out, he was plenty pissed that I am on SSI, as “it’s not fair I have to pay for her income with my taxes.”`  He was this close to hitting me and when I went to go inside, he came after me and I just waited.  If he hit me, then I could go to court, get a Protection From Abuse-hey, I’ve suffered worse things, believe me.

I have made the decision that he is dead, dead to me for all intents and purposes.

You see, what seemed to irritate him most? That I had suffered CPTSD, and depression.  Apparently he thinks I made it all up; that after owning my own businesses and working (often two jobs at a time) for 40 years, I just decided, as if upon whim, to close shop, be lazy and ruin my husband’s life.  How could he be that cold?

And then the inevitable kick in my aching groin:  “Bud will be at mom’s for Easter, with his gal pal extraordinaire, the woman who was the icing on the cupcake of his disaster, the woman who so eagerly took what was not hers, her best friend’s boyfriend.  Don’t get me wrong, Bud is responsible for his own actions, but being the raging narcissist that he is?  He will never take accountability.  He ruined his own life and he should have thought about that before he let his penis do his thinking.  Sorry, I’m a bit rough around the edges today.

Father, forgive him, he knows not what he does.

She talks to angels, they call her out by her name.

[They] Want You Deaf, Dumb and Blind

https://www.bitchute.com/video/naYpYXD0NG7I/

I apologize for not writing more often these days, but the truth of the matter is this:  conservatives are being attacked and censored on every level.   I have spoken of this in previous blogs, but now the Cabal is desperate, unhinged you might say.  They are desperate to keep you brainwashed, terrified that the truth will have a domino effect on evil players, demons if you must know.

Perhaps 10 to 25 percent of you are woke to the truth, maybe not.  I can tell you that my awakening came after years and years of drinking, drugging and messing around with the New Age.  My story is not unique, not by a long stretch.  Sadly, there is a population of vulnerable, impressionable peeps out there-they have been abused their entire life, be it physical, emotional, sexual or circumstantial.  They fly to the “answers” they have searched for their entire lives, and I was one of those victims.

In 2015, I attended a funeral for a young man who happened to be my friend’s one and only son.  We sat in the balcony, and when Sherry walked into the chapel?  Every muscle in my body tightened.  I dug my nails into my husband’s thigh, trying to stifle the scream I felt surfacing-Jason was her only son:  an expert on motorcycles, a truck driver found him in a ditch, on a sunny day.  Sherry received the news while grocery shopping, when a friend called to voice her sympathies.  A part of my heart died that day, and my life took on a frenetic rush to prove that life on this planet had purpose.  

“This can’t be it, Jesus.  Why are we here?  Seems a tad more like hell on earth, not life.”

trees in park
Already suffering from CPTSD, my life became smaller by the day. I had no hope, no courage, no vision.

During the funeral, I was startled to find the woman behind me had placed her hands on my neck.  She began gently massaging my scalp, and I retreated in a not so nice way-as if to say-look lady, I don’t know you and why in the harry are you TOUCHING me?

“Honey, this is Lydia.  I went to high school with her,” my husband whispered.

The very same Lydia who sold gorgeous, handsewn purses made from old wool sweaters?  That Lydia?  I had heard of her wares, and she was quite renown in our sleepy little town of Kleinfeltersville.  Everyone loved Lydia.

As an artist, I am drawn to others in the field.  I envied her, it seemed she had an idyllic life.  But why was she massaging a stranger’s neck?

photo of person holding crystal ball
I’m studying to be a Reiki Master. Why don’t you come by for a free treatment?

Lydia explained that she was studying for her Reiki Master license.  All “treatments” would be free, at least for the coming month.  As a victim of narcissistic abuse, I had plenty of healing to do-was this what I had been looking for?  I jumped at the chance to see her home, let alone receive Reiki (I had no clue what it was, but my mind is always open)  I was not disappointed on my first visit.  Lydia sat down with me, I glanced at her kitchen table and noticed a deck of what I thought to be tarot cards.

Ten years prior, I had been at a superbowl party in which there was a “psychic” in attendance for the party goers.  Hounded by the host to go up and be “read,” I finally caved.  I had attempted to have my palm read years and years ago, in a tiny flat on South Street, in Philadelphia.  She read my sister well, so I was excited (and terrified) of what she would say to me.  She took my palm.  The look on her face said stranger danger, and before she could scream GET OUT, we headed down the steps, taking two, three at a time.  My sister laughed the entire way home, but I was tormented.

Why would she kick me out?  She told me to call her and she would explain, but that she could not be in my presence.  It wasn’t until years later that I realized a very, very important fact:

Practitioners of black magic, fortune telling, Reiki, or witchcraft simply can’t deal with the children of the Most High.  They know who we are, and they don’t mess around with God-even if they worship satan, they know who we are.   It’s as simple as that.

My visit with the super bowl psychic proved disastrous as well.

“I don’t like tarot cards, or having my palm read,” I explained.  I told her of my past experience.

“Oh, I know why she did it, but that was cruel.  You must have been frantic,  Nothing to fear, let’s get started.”

As my heart began to pound out of my chest, she shuffled the cards.

“Pick one.”

Long story short, I picked the death card.

“Within the week, someone will die in your home.”

Well, that made me fly up out of my seat and run to my husband.

Honey, I thought you didn’t believe in psychics, that isn’t going to happen.

Two days later?  My beloved Dalmatian, Chipper, began having a series of strokes.  By the third day we had to call the vet, and he lapsed into a coma in my lap.  I sat there for five hours, legs numb, railing at God.

The poor dog was diagnosed with encephalitis, a brain swelling.  The trauma hit us both in the face, like a bowl of ice cold water.  In my grief, I had more questions than answers.  I will never forget that day, the darkness, the heartache.

After a few Reiki “treatments,” I found myself becoming more depressed by the day.  I would have days that were so dark?  I couldn’t move, get out of bed, even feed the animals.  I tried to reach out to others, but no one had a clue what I was talking about.  Black crows followed me everywhere, and I mean a murder of crows.  Snakes were found in my kitchen, one dead, with his head sticking up as if he were warning:

Something wicked this way comes.

To be continued.

Trading Places

If I could, I’d make a deal with God, so we could trade places.                                                                                                                            -Kate Bush

I just now picked up on the irony.  The thumbnail on this video is a girl with butterfly wings.  MK Ultra and the butterflies-God never ceases to surprise me.  And it was in utter shock that I heard myself unravel earlier today, on the phone with my friend Kat.

My heart was breaking in half for the people who will have their world turned upside down in a matter of days.  My husband, my beloved tribe, and others I cannot claim to be my own.  How will it go over?  Will there be panic?  Will there be martial law?  Will my family be okay?  When will the healing begin…blah, blah, blah.  Where was my faith?  I truly lost my shit, and that hasn’t happened in a great while.

Every word she spoke was a panacea to my soul.  I went from weeping to breathless laughter in a matter of moments.

Wait until they find out about the royals.  Wait until they see their lizard tongues, then our husbands will believe us!”

Good times.

This is a shout out to those of you in my intimate circle, my brothers and sisters in Christ, what little is left of my family-if I could trade places with you, I would.  I take zero pleasure in awakening before you were to do so, believe me.  This isn’t about me, it isn’t about you.  It’s about the children, the charades, the evil on mind blowing levels.  Everything dark and hidden will be brought out into the Light.  And by the Light I don’t mean the New Age, ascended master version-I mean the risen Christ in all His glory.  He is about to eradicate all evil from this planet.

It’s about good versus evil, as simple as that.

You will hear bad, very bad things about the so called “elite” of this world.  Household names, famous names.  There will be so much news, coming at once.  Even though I thought I joined the Christian QAnon truther community for this very reason-an awakened world on the same spiritual plane, moving together as one?  I am not relishing the coming weeks and months of disclosure.  People will be thrown into the abyss of unbelief, for sure.

Hold onto the people you love and hold tightly.

There is absolutely nothing to panic about, God has this.

Donald J. Trump and his QAnon team have planned this for twenty years.

Trust God, trust POTUS, trust Barr.

The very best is yet to come-at least for some of us.

 

 

Lost, Inside My Own Mind

After a sobering sermon on forgiveness, I find myself searching my heart and mind for relief, release or at least a NOT GUILTY verdict-I discover that I have been looking at many things in the wrong light.

The spiritual director spoke before the band played.  She talked about her granddaughter’s 13th birthday party, planned at a roller rink-50 children were invited.  Only two girls out of those fifty came to the party-her granddaughter was crushed, and she wanted revenge of the eye for an eye sort.  She swore she wanted to go to each and every home that housed the little brats, because these girls responded YES to the invite.

Crushing.  I wept for the little girl, and didn’t stop weeping until the service was over.  I have felt that exact heartache; there is a special kind of pain related to disrespect, cruelty and sucker punches to the gut-it isn’t pretty and it isn’t right, but what can you do?

As of late, I have been isolating myself.  I left our church of four years, ended friendships that were toxic and one sided, even stopped going to exercise class-I blame it on my bad knee, which is partly true.  The other reason?  I have been deeply hurt by no less than three women in that very class.  One woman was a long time friend who taunted me to the point of madness-she belittled, chastised and stalked.  I was honest with her, and no apology was forthcoming, not that I expected or demanded one.  I had hopes for the other two women, a friendship was budding…but these ladies had been BFFs forever, and the one didn’t think too kindly of me butting into the equation.

I had arranged a tea for us this past Winter.  We were having a lovely time until the woman I later learned was insecure and unforgiving, told me that she never attended our local bent and dent discount store because, wait for it…Amish people smell.

“What the fazuck am I doing here?”  The last thing I wanted was another judgmental and unforgiving woman in my life.  I dropped the ball and there it lay.  As much as I needed to get out amongst the living, protecting my heart was much more important.  I haven’t been back in months.  It saddens me because I truly felt at ease with these women, until someone complained about my baking a carrot cake for a member’s birthday.

What is wrong with people?

It amazes me how God works in our lives.  I had thought for years that the women of Schaefferstown were uppity and lackluster, set in their ways and averse to any one or any thing that challenged their black and white view of life.  One particular day I was called out by the instructor as I sat, minding my own business, talking to the woman next to me.

Were you a rebel in High School?”

It happens everywhere I go:  because I don’t care what others think of me, or perhaps because I do, in my own way-I stick out like a sore thumb.  In college I began working at a local restaurant as a hostess.  I sensed the cocktail waitresses and bartender were none too pleased with the new girl-the young blonde with the happy go lucky attitude was shunned-so I turned myself into the dumb young blonde who sarcastically spoke of the customers and employees with condescension and a touch of malice.

Everyone loved her.

I fancied myself an imbecile, too stupid to add up a bar tab, too clumsy to carry a tray of cocktails, too silly to ever be taken seriously.  As an emotionally abused child I learned how to fade into the woodwork;  and now, in my fifties?  I simply can’t risk one more heartache-so I shut myself down, don’t risk putting myself out there.  I have become my mother.

And so it was, as I sat there in the tiny little church in a strip mall this morning, that I began to feel the Grinch’s heart warm up a tad.  I wanted to raise my hand and ask the pastor how one is supposed to forgive seven times seventy without being seen and treated like a doormat.  I truly believe that is why I wasn’t taken seriously to begin with-the old Sara was abundantly loving and incredibly happy, despite all that stood in her way.  The new version?  Hardened, calloused and distrusting of anyone who gives her a sideways glance.  Nothing gets in, yes-but nothing goes out, and that is the point of this blog.

I want my heart back, Jesus.  I miss the girl with open arms and a love for others that couldn’t be dimmed, no matter the beating I took out in the real world.

Oh, what I wouldn’t do to have her back~

 

Are You a Targeted Individual?

 

I don’t even know where to begin, so many thoughts and emotions, so little understanding until I heard this man speak earlier today, as I watched the rain pour down like buckets-God’s tears, I imagine.  That or the powers that be, fucking with our safety-all in the name of depopulation.

Depopulation and rage, that is.  You see, the enemy is shaking in its very boots as we speak.  In one week I have witnessed the unraveling of the monster Jeffrey Epstein, discovered that M.J. is indeed alive, and a vice president going down in the flames he so richly deserves.

Mike Pence is a pedovore.  Not only does he rape and murder children, he is involved in sex trafficking, satanic ritual abuse (I refuse to capitalize it) and cannibalism.  That’s another fifty blogs in itself, so I’ll get to the point.

8115fbf69978c765d9c84831bfaae2d6f91b0efd382b80536aaf876ed9ff1d5e

The above is over a year of QAnon information, gathered by President Trump and his team.  This is not debatable, these are the hard and gruesome facts.  So, added to the stress and ostracism afforded all God fearing patriots who love their president?  Let’s add the targeted individual into the mix.  Feeling queasy yet?

This is for those of you who have fought the good fight, stood your ground and spoken your truth for the last three or so years.  We are God’s anointed, and every bit of evil will be eviscerated from the planet earth.

Take note you demons, you Jezebels and fools:  we’re coming for you.  And we have God Almighty on our sides.

Move over, bitch.