Born Again


Day three of forced captivity, after a few days of ice and snow.  I gave it a try, I really did-but with my knee in the healing process-and not wanting to crack my head open, again, one slip feeding the cats and I was DONE.  I don’t do well with mandatory anything, and I’m quite sure that if I had hiked the mountains of Pennsylvania this morning?  I would be dreaming of a stormy day nap.

The grass is always greener.  That isn’t my nature, though.  I have always tried to make the best of each and every circumstance-sometimes it worked, more often than not-it didn’t.  You see, when you are a victim of emotional abuse as a child, you don’t think you deserve to be treated fairly, be happy, or even loved for that matter.  What I’m saying is, those of us who have faced the crushing despair of abuse are experts at making the most hideous situations look like a trip to Disney World.  This is the very characteristic that makes us such targets for narcissists.  Let’s face it, we allow or better yet enable the bullies for the very reason they abuse-we think nothing of ourselves.  Frankly, we are terrible with boundaries, because there were none as children and way into adulthood. So, what I am saying is this: if you don’t expect good things/people/blessings to happen to a poor sod like yourself?

Think again.

Christ has brought me out of the darkness and in to the most surreal of lights.  I am beyond blessed by a life I never expected, in my wildest dreams, to have.  I praise God each and every day for healing my Lyme, healing my heart, and bringing me home.  It’s hard to put into words, this ethereal lightness of being.  It often takes me way longer than it should, this vision of the tapestry my beloved Abba is weaving in to the very fibers of my life.  We can grow in leaps and bounds if we allow God to do the work, and get out of our own ways.

When you stop judging and start loving as Jesus taught us to love?

Miracles happen~






Time alone is time on my hands and that means I am prone to deep meditation.  This morning, while praying, I saw them-the scars on my wrists from that dreary October evening twelve years ago.  They startled me out of my talk with Jesus, and a tear fell from my face, onto the book I was reading.  I was back there, that evening, and the awakened remorse, pain and shame were too much to take.

I stumbled into the kitchen, feeling it necessary to fix this situation by making brownies.  And I remembered a line I have repeated over and over again,

You gotta feel the feels.”    – Richard Gannon, psychiatrist

I had been on my high horse as of late, judging people like crazy.  Not the people in my life, but the principalities in high places.  The rich.  The elite.  The treasonous.  That’s when God took my hand, and led the way to a breakthrough that has been weeks in the process.

Rather than judging them, how about praying for them?

I’m a survivor because Jesus Christ picked me up when I was at rock bottom-leading me out of the despair, the hopelessness-into a blessed and beautiful life.

Jesus, Take the Whole Car


Tomorrow will be Easter, and I dread it like the plague.  As I write, snuggled in my bed and nodding off-I can’t help but wonder why I am beleaguered by horrible holidays.  Oh, there’s been a few that were notable, but few and far between.

After my parents passed, the idea of any resemblance to a family dynamic flew directly out of the window.  There were arguments with his mother, as we wanted to see my nieces and nephew when given the opportunity.  Monster would fuss and fight, to the point that I began dreading what fortunate people anticipate with great joy.  It began when I met my husband.  Our first Thanksgiving together, and the first time my mother allowed Dwain in her presence, I remember well.  I woke early to feed the critters, and I was in such a happy tilly I could hardly contain myself.  I sang to the cats, danced in the Fall rain-I simply couldn’t wait to be with family.

The phone rang, for me.  News that my poor mother had fallen and broken her hip, whilst attempting to bake us pies.  In the hospital, she screamed in agony-my heart was filled with pain to see her in that helpless and vulnerable way.

That was the last holiday (with the exception of one Christmas with my daddy after mom went home) I would look forward to, and the last I care to remember.  These days, we go to my in laws-due to my having to live this fresh hell tomorrow, I’ll keep the details to a minimum.

It sucks dogs balls.

Three Easters ago, I was baptized in my current place of worship.  My sister had invited us to Easter-my annual sinus infection was in full gear, and in church I was dunked under ice cold water in an air conditioned building.  I was completely alone.  My husband had a stick up his apple, for some reason.  I remember the Spiritual Director taking me aside:

You’re here alone?  No family whatsoever.  Utterly alone.

Last Easter my step son and we were on the outs.  Dwain asked his mother to invite Bud for the afternoon, so we could visit before noon.  Actually, Dwain had hinted that it would be a good thing if maybe she could skip inviting him altogether.  Days passed, and the holiday loomed overhead.  As we were dressing, my man announced that Brad’s truck was already parked in his parents driveway.

She said nothing whatsoever to Bradley.  We stayed home.

This year, again we do not speak.  He doesn’t understand, even after living in the tragic past, that I don’t have my parents, no close family-not even a friend to spend the day with.  One Thanksgiving I spent the day in a nursing home, visiting a friend, and made no apologies.

I tried going to the Farmer’s market in town, after driving to Urgent Care (pulled a tick off of my chest yesterday) for ten days of Doxy, but after I saw the waiting room?  I left toute suite, not even remotely in the mood to wait at least an hour.

I understand that every one of us has to pick up their cross and follow our glorious savior Jesus.  My problems are one thousand percent insignificant in the grand scheme of things.  Maybe there will be holidays in heaven?

Nah.  He is a just and compassionate deity.



Some New Truth

The censorship is so bad, that YouTube won’t allow you the privilege of sharing their videos.  It sent me into a tizzy, for approximately 5 minutes.  I quickly realized there are many different ways to access music, and I am the better off in the long run.  Screw you YouTube.

I have taken my case to Abba, and asked that I not suffer the bleak blackness ever again.  You see, if you are a follower of Christ trying to spread spiritual truths?  You’re going to come up against heavy prosecution, it’s just the way it is.

I remember, in 2017, when I was coming to the realization that my family would never, ever be the codependent train wreck it once was.  It was debilitating, overwhelming and a bitter pill to swallow:  the idea that I could exist without a one of them had never crossed my mind.  I put my family first, and even, I am ashamed to say, ahead of my own husband.

I hated holidays that weren’t spent with my family of origin.  Instead of loving the ones I was with, I became forlorn and depressed-each and every Christmas, like clockwork.  God has the power to change our hearts, from the very inside out.  When your heart is where it belongs?  That is when the miracles begin!


It isn’t that I don’t love my family, I do.  However, I have learned the hard way that we must exist independently from our siblings and parents.  If we can’t move on, and into the new family you have created, you are putting yourself in an atmosphere of misery and wont.

At some point in one’s life these ties must be, if only temporarily, severed.  Once you become your own person,  strong in your faith and belief system, then you can have a mutually beneficial relationship with them.  Trust me, there is plenty of dysfunction to go around-you aren’t alone in feeling that your family was different.  The fact is, there is no such thing as the perfect family unit.  There is baggage, emotional pain, sibling rivalry and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

I made the mistake of believing the enemy’s lie:  that I was somehow less than, not deserving of a loving foundation, and the more I leaned on my family for validation?  Well, the more I realized that they weren’t loving on me the way that I was loving on them.


At some point in our adulthood we need to grow and nurture our relationship with our Creator, as individual beings, with purpose driven lives.  Find out who you really are/want/cherish/believe as an independent agent-free of the burden to be anyone but who you truly are.

No matter what your family thinks you should be.


Ringing The Bell

Now that I finally have the time to sit and write what has been on my head and heart?  I find myself at a loss for words.  Earlier today, I felt the Holy Spirit tug at my heart.  After convincing myself that a few of the YouTube channels I frequent had to go?  I had to admit, the honing of my discernment is pleasing to my soul.  What people just don’t understand?  We are told by God (it’s in the bible, in many a scripture) to be seekers of the truth.

The truth.

Again, it would be swell if WordPress could make my inserts just a TAD smaller.

Okay, zoom this picture as high as you can without distortion.  The person in the very back, with the watch?  That is John F. Kennedy, Jr. himself.  He is alive.  It isn’t a conspiracy theory gone wild, it isn’t a lie, and it isn’t fake news.

JFK, Jr. walks amongst the living.  He has two children, a daughter and a son.  He is the master of disguise, having learned makeup in the Drama department of an Ivy League School.  He shows up in the strangest places, and I laugh each and every time I miss the clue, and then it’s obvious when someone points it out.

John F. Kennedy, Jr. will be running for Vice President in the coming election.  I’d bet good money on this, and the only question is when.  When will he show his gorgeous mug?

There is a battle, a Spiritual battle that is being fought on the frontlines of the Donald J. Trump administration.  Pedophiles and human traffickers are being arrested in droves, more than at any time in presidential history.  That makes sense, as the last four presidents were needy baby, greedy babies.  Demons, if you will.  They sent our men and women to wars that had no reasoning, simply for profit.  They were in the penthouse suites, toasting with the Dom, cheering each other on.

“We fooled ’em again!  We took their kids, their livings, their hope!  Hail satan!!!”

That’s right.  Can you smell what I am stepping in?


But God had more He wanted to show me.  I see how many people are falling for the change in narrative, the subtle whispering that Trump is not winning, that he is to blame for the last two mass shootings (Cabal initiated) or that anything but good things are happening.

There is no room for fear, God anointed Trump for this very time in biblical history.

The epic era in which one third of this world will be eradicated from planet earth.

All evil will come to light.

And then I did my Bible dip and came upon my favorite book, 2 Corinthians.

Finally, brethren, farewell.  Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace shall be with you.

Greet one another will an holy kiss.  All the saints salute you!

The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost be with you.

Be still, and know that He is God.

The First Time, The Last Time

These are trying times.  Deep State false flags, public shootings, crises actors…it’s enough to send you reeling.  Please understand this:

The elite, deep state, cabal, illuminati?  They have an AGENDA, and that is to unarm America, yes, but they know it’s coming, this STORM-and thus it is in their best interest to play on your emotions, and distract America’s attention from the real news, the real war on crime.

[These people are STUPID] That statement used to bring me comfort.  But stupid is as stupid does, and the casualties matter not.  Do you honestly think that Beto O’Rourke gives a damn about who was and wasn’t killed in this latest attempt to distort reality?  If so, you should probably know that each and every democratic candidate for 2020 wants their blood back.  And that is the blood of babies.  It’s what keeps them young, keeps them in Adrenochrome, keeps them rich-human trafficking is a lucrative business.  They want Trump stopped because he knows.  He knows everything about [them] and will not stop until each and every traitor, demon, and scumbag extraordinaire is not only behind bars, but dead.

I said dead, yes.

The most evil man on the planet. I would like a shot at him myself.
Facts and truths put together to show you the truth, thanks to Anons worldwide, and POTUS.

You aren’t awake because they want you sleeping.

You will NEVER hear the truth coming out of the corrupt MSM, EVER.  So why are you watching it?  This includes FOX news, the BBC, New York Times, Washington Post and 99% of all media.  You see, they all have a vested interest in keeping you in the dark:  together we are strong, but divided?

Not so much.

I found this lovely prayer in a book entitled Prayers and Promises for a Hurting World.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Dear Jesus, we are Your sheep, the people of Your pasture, loved and precious and known.  Thank You for that pastoral metaphor, which is both humbling and comforting.  For we are just like sheep:  foolish, weak, small and easily led astray.  We are prone to wander; we feel it every day in the way our minds tend to things other than You.  We are prone to complain with an irritating repetition and a blindness to the blessings around us.  Hours or even days go by without us pricking our ears to the sound of Your voice, without looking up to see where we are in relation to where You are.  And when we find ourselves in a predicament-far from home, far from the flock, far from You-we cry out and You are there.

But Lord, we want to be able to feed Your sheep too, just like You commanded Peter to do.  We don’t want to be so continually lost that we’re no help to the other lost sheep around us.  Help us to persistently reorient our minds on You and Your loving voice, and keep our wooly ears open to the cries of others.  Amen.

Peter was grieved because he said unto him, the third time, Lovest thou me?  And he saidunto him, Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee.  Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep.                         John 21:17 KJV

Speaking of the world that is currently run by the enemy-but will soon be run by God himself?  That’s right, I said it’s going to be a Jubilee, and there is biblical proof to back this theory, plenty of it-I might add.  I love Sainted Anon’s exposés on the proof in the pudding, the dark to light of so many hidden demonic forces currently working to end the Trump administration, take away your rights, disarm you and then kill you off in droves.


But the Good and Great News is that Jesus is our Lord and Saviour!  Abba protects His children, and because we declare Jesus to be our Saviour?  We are covered in the blood he shed as the Lamb of God.  This isn’t about anything but the battle of good against evil.  That is what this time in biblical prophesy is all about.  God is giving us another chance, to make it right before we can’t.

Will you cling to Him or sell your soul?


I had one hell of a time trying to write this blog.  It appeared that all signs pointed to this not being published today, as I threw my laptop down in despair.  Computer screen frozen, I shut the shit show down and pouted.

And then I got good and freaking angry.

I had a talk with Jesus.

I don’t want to fear any longer, remind me of the Warrior angel you set me upon this earth to be, and guide me in the Spirit with all I say and do.  Strengthen me in faith and spirit, let no evil touch this home.   Know that I am beyond grateful for your abundant blessings, and that I am nothing without you.  Help me speak out for the children, the victims and all the saints in Heaven.

In Jesus’ precious name, Amen.

If this was a movie?

Marilyn Monroe would be walking down the runway, in nothing but a trench coat and black Wayfarers.  The crowd would cheer her on, her comeback, dreaded by many-made perfect in His timing.


Dark to Light

Every trial, every heartbreak and each and every tear I have shed has made me the strong person I am today.  Great Awakening or not, everything in my life makes so much sense-an absolute victory.  It is my prayer that each and every one of you will turn to Christ.  There you will find all truth, peace and power over the enemy.

My best friend Jason came out to the farmette for dinner last night.  Due to circumstances beyond our control, we hadn’t seen each other in over a year.  Jason is a Pranswer (answered prayer) and the moment I met him I knew we were fated to suffer the journey together.  From the Jeep Wrangler to the gift of prose, we had everything in common.  He is an Empath, an Intuit, a Sensitive.  He wants nothing less than to change the world, or at least be a part of the momentum.  

As he walked into my kitchen, nothing seemed amiss.  As a matter of fact, he looked amazing.  It wasn’t until we sat down to talk that I saw the darkness, a black pool of nothingness-his pupils.

Melania Trump is a fucking whore,” he blurted.

My husband looked at me, then at him, then quickly back to me.  And then it happened, he did the unthinkable-

“What good, what good did that tacky glutton do for this country?”

His eyes were full of spite, for lack of a better term.


I thought my husband was going to leave the room.  His head was on a swivel, the smile wiped off of his mug.  He wasn’t necessarily upset with Jason.  He knew his wife and he knew her Irish temper but most of all he knew I adore my president.

It occurred to me that Jason had been out in the big bad world for a mite too long.  His jaded, saddened heart was proof in the pudding.

There was no argument.  We sat down in the kitchen and I asked him, what do you want to know?  Presuming he wanted to ask anything, I sensed he was coming up for air.

We talked well in to the evening, confessing our brushes with the still sleeping masses, how alone we both felt, how we couldn’t talk to our spouses about the coming avalanche of red pills headed our way.

“If God is going to eviscerate evil from this earth, I must be a cog in the machine.  I have always known I would be a warrior for good in my lifetime.”

As I walked him to the door, we both broke into fits of laughter I haven’t experienced in a Coon’s age.  We cackled until there was no breath left in either of us, then stopped to say goodbye.  I looked deeply into his big blue eyes-and relished the moment the light returned.

“…It’s hard to live in the darkness, to have faith that light exists and is coming.  But Your Word says we can bear fruit even when the world is dark because our light is the Lamb of Jesus, the Word Incarnate, who shines on us, in us, and through us.  We pray for  a flourishing visible to those around us that has no explanation apart from Your power in us.  Not a flourishing of wealth and power, though; gold does not shine in the darkness.  But Your love does.  Give us your love to light this dark world.  Amen.

–   Prayers and Promises for a Hurting World






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~