[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.

What She Said…

Have you every dry cried?  It is a phenomena I had never experienced until this day.  Apparently, I’ve no tears left to weep-and that is why God led me to Thessalonians.  Paul speaks passionately about the truth and how raw the need for transparency in a fallen world.

I admire the heck out of Roseanne.  She has been through the ringer, and then some.  I think she exudes God’s wisdom and grace.  She means so much to me because she is gutsy, and that is so very rare in today’s pansy ass environment.  How can people not see this?  How could you allow your child to be taught to bow to Allah?  Or learn about the eleventy hundred ways to identify:  God bless them they must be so confused.

Roseanne is right on the money.

This is about the children.

I am joining this community of women, as we are growing in numbers and strength.  In the days and months ahead, may we comfort the mothers who blindly followed the vogue, the trends, the Joneses.

I would much prefer a bitch slap, but hey-you can’t have everything.

Dark to a Light so Bright

I’m running rather late today, I do apologize.  There comes a time in every woman’s life when she needs to wake up and smell the dirty laundry laying in her mud room.  Today was about that and flea control.  Look, I don’t want to complain-I have so much gratitude for the blessings, and their are many, that God has bestowed upon my family.

From here on out family=Dwain and myself, Jesse our golden retriever, and my 14 outdoor cats.  Please don’t judge me-I live out in the country where random imbeciles think it proper to dump their unwanted (often abused) felines in my front yard.  Over the years we have cared for over 200 cats, and even back in the day when we had no stove, no food and no cable.  I have succumbed to the lull of life’s luxuries, and frankly?  A roof over our heads, gardens full of vegetables and insanely beautiful flowers and herbs.  We have an overabundance of food these days-I used to horde food whenever possible, now I realize that God will meet our needs.  What extra we do have will be given to Christian ministries around our community.

I was listening to Field McConnel yesterday.  If you have never heard of him, put down what you’re doing and subscribe to Abel Danger.  Field and his wife Deniseare two of the bravest, sassiest, and patriotic God fearing people I have had the pleasure of watching.  And to think I almost abandoned him completely when he spoke about Zim appointments and 800 numbers.  Turns out he was feeding the Zim scam information to the trolls on his station.  If you don’t know what the Zim scam is, I highly suggest you remain ignorant and avoid it like the plague; most people with a modicum of discernment have no problem doing so.

I can only listen to thirty minutes at a time, but believe me, I hang on every word he utters-I don’t want to miss some of the best military intel available.

So, they were talking about taking resumes for a program that will help normies (the sleeping) as they awaken.  He was asking for medical personnel.  Let that sink in for a moment.  Those of us who have diligently followed Q, even when we wanted to pull every hair out of our heads, know everything.  We have known for years, give or take a few facts that are just now coming to the surface.  This is about the very time I started to realize the enormity of the problem.  Q told us that if the public were made aware of these horiffic and satanic acts, that 99% of them would have to be hospitalized.

They say you don’t know how strong you truly are until your courage is put to the test.  Every single anon in the community has, at one time, suffered the stages of a grief so astronomical it’s right off the charts.  That being said, most of us are in the “acceptance” stage.  Any Q detractor will tell you this was a Psy-op, yada, yada, yada.  NO.  This was the pure genius of Donald John Trump-the most transparent administration of our time.  We were given the “sauce” through the 4 and 8 chans communications:  detailed info graphs in which we were schooled in reality-the good, the bad, and the downright putrid.

In the days and weeks ahead, please remain calm and in prayer.  Remember:  this has been going on for centuries, and that we are now fighting evil in every dimension-and it turns out that we, or God, is winning.  There will be help available in the form of support teams; medical professionals and good men and women who want to ensure that you go through this transition with  much love and kindness afforded to you.

I pray that an army of angels fly before and behind you.  Be strong, know that God is in control.  Believe that the hard part is over, thanks to our beloved president, the military, and team Storm.  We owe God and these heroes our very lives-anyone who tries to tell you differently?  They don’t know jack shit.

 

 

 

 

Tightrope

I live out in the country, way out: but that doesn’t mean I have no neighbors. I think Jesus made it perfectly clear, but I am not the one to judge. I have issues, too. Just recently? I was doing a bit of ruminating about my sin, and I came to the horrifying conclusion that all of my friends are “beautiful” people. I am actually a bit surprised at my prejudice, as I assumed that I had a big heart, for all people. I do, however it seems to me it’s a whole lot easier to love attractive people. I am deeply shamed by this, and will work on it ASAP.

About five years ago, I found myself embedded in a screaming match with my neighbor, Jeanne. I stopped walking my dog around our neighborhood after this incident, and I have her to thank. Jeanne and her family had recently moved to our tiny burb, and I never would have known if not for her dog, Cujo; who promptly scared the life force out of my golden retriever. After calling for immediate restraint, I heard this:

“Oh, for crying out loud, it’s just a German Shepherd,” came her response, loud and clear. You don’t know me, or how I get when people get in my face. I am a Gemini, through and through. I am simultaneously the nicest and meanest person you will ever meet-just depends on what you’re dishing out on that particular day.

Years later, I am standing with Jeanne.  Who, indeed, proved to be a horse’s ass.  But this particular day, back in February, she caught me while hunting sheds, in the field below her farm.  We took up talking and I told her I was going through a bout of Lyme.  She, in turn, told me to come up to the house, to hear about Essential Oils!!!  I must have been gravely ill, because I actually went, thinking that she was trying to help me.  What. On. Earth. Was I thinking?

Anyway, the neighbor who lives in between myself and Jeanne, is a 90 year old, Pennsylvania Dutch, busy body extraordinaire.  She knows all of the gossip in the neighborhood.  We don’t get involved, ever.  So, I haven’t been close to Ruth in years, as I knew she wasn’t fond of me.  How did I know this?  I have it on good authority, it came from the horse’s mouth. Apparently, Ruth said this to my in laws:

“You can say a lot of things about Michele, but she sure does take good care of her animals.”

So, there’s that.  And a whole bunch of other stuff I have already flushed down the commode.

Here’s the thang:  we cannot wrap ourselves up in others’ perceptions of us.  Ninety percent of the time?  They are going on gossip, unearned reputations-not the Holy Spirit or the love of Jesus in their hearts.

So, I would like to wrap this up by saying this to anyone and everyone who delights in being in my bizness:

You people are the human version of menstrual cramps.