My Weapon of Choice…..

Scrolling through videos this morning, waiting for inspiration. This video caught my attention, and it is just perfect for the topic. What is your weapon of choice when the haters are getting you down? How do you escape the bullets shot in your direction? What do you do when cruelty and evil darken your door?

Of course, my weapon is the full armor of God. At least that is the first place I go…….for strength, love and compassion-wisdom, grace and peace. I
submerge myself in the scriptures, and there I find truth, a rare commodity in this day and age: but always on pointe, never changing-it comforts me to know that Jesus knows my heart, inside and out. I have faced challenges this past year that would break Hercules, yet I am stronger by the minute, so much so that I am not the same person I was mere weeks, months or years ago.

16997932_1752809721699812_788274872885469148_n

He keeps me strong. On the straight and narrow. Do I slip up? Often. Does He forgive me? Indubitably.

And after I come out of my bible-induced trance? Why, I dance…..of course!

Homeward, Homeward

So love the one you hold, and I will be your Gold, a lover of the LIGHT.         – Mumford and Sons

After the dust settles, and you have cried your last tear, who do you turn to?  Where do you go?  What do you see?  I can tell you what I used to see-bleak, dank and dreary darkness.  My CPTSD and depression were so bad, and yet I didn’t understand why, still don’t.  I don’t understand, but mine eyes have seen the glory, praise God.

Becoming a Christian (meaning giving your life to Jesus) does not guarantee happiness in the present-it does, however, guarantee joy in the future.  The peace that surpasses all understanding can be yours, but that is up to you.  The hardest thing I have ever done is to let go and let God.  Frankly, many a time have I ranted and raved; cried like an insolent child, even threw my bible across the kitchen a time or two.

When John the Baptist paved the way for Jesus Christ to enter, stage heaven, he was eventually murdered.  John’s role was to baptize Jesus, a role he deemed himself not worthy of-until God gave him a good talking to.  John ate weird stuff and wore weirder clothing, but he was the perfect man for the job, and Yah knew this.

What am I?  The whipping post, the martyr, the punching bag?  Why is this happening to me?  Don’t you love me Jesus?  Why can’t I see you in this desert place?  Where have you gone, my Lord, my Savior?

I pled this quietly, in my bed, all alone and left behind.  I can’t feel you, please, please don’t forsake me God.Featured Image -- 9552

This is often the case with His children.  The Israelites were given manna from the heavens, protected throughout the wilderness, yet they still thought they had the short end of the stick.  Looking back?  I wouldn’t be stronger, wiser or more faithful had my life been easy.  Don’t get me wrong, I have had and will have enough joy in my lifetime to carry me through.  I’ve had a good life, and prior to being born again?  I had a wild life.

The stories I could tell you.

Oh, that’s right, I have.

In a letter to the Colossians, Paul writes:

And you, that were sometimes alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now hath He reconciled in the body of His flesh through death, to present you holy and unblameable in His sight.

No one is good enough to save himself.

If we want to live in eternity with Christ, we must depend totally on God’s grace.  You were given a choice from birth, and although God wants you to make the right choice, He will not force His hand.

Cry out to Jesus and give Him your life.  I promise you, things will change.  You will be filled with the Holy Spirit, you will learn what love is-from a mighty and unfailing Savior.

How to Pray for Other Christians:

  1.  Be thankful for their faith and changed lives.
  2.   Ask God to help them know His will.
  3.  Ask God to give them spiritual wisdom, and understanding.
  4.   Ask God to help them live to honor and please them.
  5.   Ask God to give them more knowledge of Himself.
  6.   Ask God to give them strength for endurance, and patience.

Ask God to fill them with joy and thankfulness.

And when you are in the depths of despair?

Shout to the Lord a joyful noise!

 

My Weapon of Choice…..

Scrolling through videos this morning, waiting for inspiration. This video caught my attention, and it is just perfect for the topic. What is your weapon of choice when the haters are getting you down? How do you escape the bullets shot in your direction? What do you do when cruelty and evil darken your door?

Of course, my weapon is the full armor of God. At least that is the first place I go…….for strength, love and compassion-wisdom, grace and peace. I
submerge myself in the scriptures, and there I find truth, a rare commodity in this day and age: but always on pointe, never changing-it comforts me to know that Jesus knows my heart, inside and out. I have faced challenges this past year that would break Hercules, yet I am stronger by the minute, so much so that I am not the same person I was mere weeks, months or years ago.

16997932_1752809721699812_788274872885469148_n

He keeps me strong. On the straight and narrow. Do I slip up? Often. Does He forgive me? Indubitably.

And after I come out of my bible-induced trance? Why, I dance…..of course!

The Choice to Know is Yours

We attended church this morning, and as usual?  The pastor threw me off of my game by the title of his sermon A Heart Full of Hate.  Before I wax poetic, I want you to know that I am including myself in this equation.  This isn’t a lecture or even a directive, but what the Holy Spirit is conveying to me at this space in time.

As a citizen journalist and Twitter addict, I can tell you that there have been many occasions where I have felt pure disgust and, dare I say it?  Contempt for those who are not yet awakened, not yet fully informed.  Like I was born with the knowledge myself.  No, there have been beacons of hope leading the search for the truth, Bill Smith, Bill Cooper, John F. Kennedy-I just fell into it at the exact moment that God would have me fall.

This isn’t political.  Nope.  Let’s just do away with the left and right paradigm this very minute.  Not in my blog, at least, not any longer.  This is not to say I don’t enjoy the occasional meme or political parody-no, I’m not giving that up.  Heck, I’m not a hypocrite.

I am just a child of God who sins, asks for forgiveness, and tries to repent to the best of my ability.  I fail, I fall, but He picks me right back up-time after time.  That being said, I have sought the truth and nothing but for the past three years.

The fact is that if the full news came out now, 99% of the population would be in hospital.  That is a fact.  I remember the days when I was first coming out of the fog-the things I learned or set my eyes upon could break a person, for sure.  But if we put things in perspective, and seek the voice of God in all we do?  We can handle this awakening, one day at a time.

The powers that be (I refuse to call them elite, because they are nothing but pure satanic trash) want us divided.  All of the political rhetoric in the world can not hide the fact that this had nothing, zero, nada to do with Democrats and Republicans-and everything to do with satan’s time upon this earth coming to an end:  a messy end at that.

Do you have any idea how many Republicans have left office under suspicious and disconcerting circumstances?  Do you know that you can go to usa.gov and get most of this information yourselves?  I understand that you are being fed a huge crock of bullshit on a daily basis by a media that is given its talking points at 4 a.m. by the Illuminati goons who decide what kind of Psy-op they are dishing out on any particular day.

Let’s talk about the puppet masters creating full blown hysteria in children over the issue of global warming.

Look, I would never lie to you.  GLOBAL WARMING DOES NOT EXIST.  I find it infuriating that they are robbing young boys and girls of not only their childhoods, but the hope of a future, for nothing but evil.  You want to talk about the New Green Deal?  Don’t say one effing word unless you have read it and digested the implications.

Have you any clue of the Noahide laws?

Do you know that 9/11 was perpetrated by an unholy union between Islam and this nation’s leaders?  Do you also know that this hideous day was used for satanic sacrifice on a massive scale?  Was GW on Airforce one when the first (plane) hit the twin towers?  Or was he reading to children in an outlying suburb?

Plane.  Metal.  Hit.  Kite.

Those are the very words he had an entire classroom of children repeating-over and over again.  Hmm.  Sounds like a spell, wouldn’t you say?

I spent the last hour looking for this video, which I will eventually find.

The point is that we must lay our burdens at His feet and lay our differences at the altar.  Together we are so much stronger, and love for one another is how we are known to the secular world.

All of this information is public, albeit not easy to find.

That too will change.

Tick.  Tock.  Tick.  Tock.  Tick.   Tock.

 

 

Dreams and False Alarms

At the end of the day?  We are not meant to go this world alone.  We are to have meaningful and uplifting relationships, in an era of high tech and social media.  If you can find someone to return a text?  You have accomplished an amazing Feat of Festivus.  Because I am the sensitive and loving heart that I do, I have come to the realization that I have tried, and way too hard, to befriend people who just aren’t friendship-worthy.  I trusted far too easily, gave everyone and anyone the benefit of the doubt, and admittedly, was hurt by the inevitable end of said friendship/torture chamber/migraine level one thousand, for hundred and seventy two.

God has worked miracles in my life over the past few years.  It is so vivid, the understanding that each and every personal tragedy I endured was for good reason; I am stronger, wiser and at a level of a peace that “surpasses all understanding.”

My husband made the unfortunate choice to announce to me this morning that I should “learn to give things to God, rather than worry about things all the time.”  The gust of wind which flew out of my enraged mouth could have knocked over a grisly bear.

Do men not see us, at all?  I love him with every ounce of blood in my being, but sweet Jeeze Louise, there are times…

How, how could you not know that I DO give things to Him?  Isn’t it evident, I’m not in a mental institution, correct?!!!!!”

God grant me the serenity and pray I have the wisdom not to punch my husband in the solar plexus.  Amen.5984d30ffad251d710d3ca757b2c96a54db76d9eaf3329ffe06aa03b926484be

I don’t remember how the topic came up, as we hiked the Hammer creek-but by the time we returned my mood had changed drastically, and it was all I could do not to break down into sobbing wails.  Someone brought up my dear friend Scott, actually my best friend, Scott.

We had known them, they were neighbors forever-Sherry and Scott.  Yet we were not close, and I didn’t truly get to know them until I worked a gig in their dog kennel.  I watched as Scott dosed out medicine, handled dogs I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole, and lovingly played with the menagerie as much as he could while running a business.  I was so intimidated by him, and looking back I know that he was being a boss and professional.  He was never, ever rude or uncaring-but he did have times of great sadness, and I learned to give him his space.  Years ago he had beaten oral cancer, but the chemo and radiation took its toll-he had lost his hair and his teeth.  No one ever looked at him differently, but I know the cancer took its toll on his strength and passion for life.

One day I came out of the gate with a golden lab; the dog was a year old, and I had no idea what lay in store.  Yes, that day I was taught that Labrador retrievers had immense strength, energy and speed.  I had decided to go to a new trail, directly across the street.  I smirked to myself as I wondered out loud-why doesn’t everyone use this path?  Moments later I was shocked out of my cocky attitude-that damn dog took me on a ride I will not soon forget.  At one point?  I lay on the ground and allowed him to pull me, as I had just run a mile or so at warp speed, and I didn’t have the strength to hold him back.  Scott finally heard my screams, as I emerged from the pear grove like Medusa- he never, ever allowed me to walk a big dog again.

The time came for me to leave, as I had taken a cut in hours and their business slowed down for the Winter.  There was the heated phone call I placed, thinking I had been shorted hours on my paycheck.  I should be withheld phone privileges when I have PMS, and sadly, that was not the case this day.

I know it’s hard to believe, but I lost my cool on his poor wife.

The very next day Scott was at our home, apologizing and trying to give me money, which, of course, I wouldn’t take.  Over the years a strong friendship formed, and I grew to love him and his wife, Sherry, very much.  Scott simply understood me, and that blew my mind.  Our chemistry was that of brother and sister.  I could tell him anything, and he would just take it in.  No judgement.  Loads of laughter, we crack each other up.

Scott is in the final stages of stage IV cancer.  He refused the treatment when the ugly fuck of a disease returned two years ago, and we all understood.  He wants to enjoy what time he has left.  His one and only worry is that his wife be okay after his departure.  I can’t even imagine how she musters the strength to run a full time kennel/grooming business.  Earlier today I felt crippled by emotion, I leaned into my husband, and I cried out-

“Everyone I have ever loved goes away.”

Dwain held me.

“I know baby.  I know.”

My Weapon of Choice…..

Scrolling through videos this morning, waiting for inspiration. This video caught my attention, and it is just perfect for the topic. What is your weapon of choice when the haters are getting you down? How do you escape the bullets shot in your direction? What do you do when cruelty and evil darken your door?

Of course, my weapon is the full armor of God. At least that is the first place I go…….for strength, love and compassion-wisdom, grace and peace. I
submerge myself in the scriptures, and there I find truth, a rare commodity in this day and age: but always on pointe, never changing-it comforts me to know that Jesus knows my heart, inside and out. I have faced challenges this past year that would break Hercules, yet I am stronger by the minute, so much so that I am not the same person I was mere weeks, months or years ago.

16997932_1752809721699812_788274872885469148_n

He keeps me strong. On the straight and narrow. Do I slip up? Often. Does He forgive me? Indubitably.

And after I come out of my bible-induced trance? Why, I dance…..of course!

Who’s Wearing the Trousers

 

I survived a week that tried to kill my faith in humanity-and I am here to tell you that most of it is all in the past.  Past tense.  Passed away.  Goneo…

Everyone has a bad hair day, week or even month.  But as I swung my legs over the bed and began the process of waking up this morning-I remembered.  Cliché perhaps, but if He brings you to it, I am telling you, He will bring you through it.  There have been times of utter tragedy and hopelessness-and I gauge my struggles by what I have conquered in the earlier years of my life.  My mother’s death at 59.  My anorexia.  My attempt at suicide.  The loss of my sister and her family.  And the worst to date-the loss of my father-who meant the world and more to me.  The way I look at things-pain can either break you or make you-and I am strong and stoic: at least until something little comes along and puts a crack in the veneer.  My mother had this character trait: she remained brilliantly heroic through my father’s coma; my father’s affair; weeks where we had no money for groceries-and she had three kids to raise on her own-daddy travelled for a living.  But God forbid she broke a nail, or spilled a cup of coffee-it was then that she cracked, and all hell broke loose.

Ah, as a child I thought her weak.  As a grown woman I see her as a heroine in a steamy, often comical story.  She had a great sense of humor, frankly, when there was no reason to laugh.  Fabulous weaponry-I use it often.  My brother, who is one year younger than I (Irish twins) is the funniest man I have ever met.  His humor is Elkinsesque,  and I say that with great love.  If you grow up in a dysfunctional family unit, the way you see life depends on how your parents dealt with trauma, stress, worries.  Just a bunch of comedians, that’s what we are.  That way no one sees the crack in the veneer.  We have no “tell” around others; that is until one of us walks into a patio door, or hits there head on the corner cupboard-that, my friends, is when we spontaneously combust into flames.  Hysteria ensues, and I pity the inanimate objects and people who are left in the wake of our wrath.

And so it was that I had a nuclear meltdown on Friday afternoon.

Fuck. You. Fleas.

I ranted, I raved, I raised my fists at the heavens.  Why?  Why am I being tortured to the point of committing Hare Kari?  I have treated my home for fleas each and every day since March.  My poor dog has been treated with Frontline (what a joke), diatomaceous earth, pills, dog collars and allergy medication.  The other day, my son’s girlfriend went to pet him: big poofs of dirt rose like clouds, she gasped:

“Oh, my goodness gracious, why is he so, umm, dusty?”  

The look on her face was priceless.  I explained about the diatomaceous dirt, and she nodded, as if I was speaking Taiwanese, or Kling On-the language that Sheldon invented.

No.  She did not understand-how could she if I don’t?  I vacuum ad nauseum, each and every day.  I have natural flea spray, but my husband hyperventilates if I use it anywhere near him.  I have flea powder-it works really well, for about ten minutes.  I can’t bare to see my dog scratch-it runs right through me.  I feel inept, inadequate, a bad doggy mom, bad human for that matter.  We keep the air conditioning running, 24/7.  All cats (13 outdoor, 3 indoor) have been treated.  This happens almost every year, but the past two have been horrendous!  And this is where my best friend comes in.

“Jesus, I refuse to pray ONE MORE PRAYER about the flea situation.  Clearly, you either don’t care or aren’t listening.  I’m done.  Nothing against you, but why should I even bother?”

Inevitably, my attention is drawn to reality:  cancer, the Deep State, missing children, a friend’s diagnoses.  He shushes my fears and reminds me to pick up my cross, be a brave little soldier.  He tells me that God answers prayers in His time-not ours.   I am thusly humbled, and more times than not?  I get down on my knees and beg His forgiveness.

It’s okay to be angry with God.  If you’re angry with him, you believe in Him.  He wants to hear your petitions.  So, we are okay, Jesus and myself.  Just aces.

Just as long as he never lets me down again. 🙂

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