The Good Fight

I have decided to stop, at least for now, writing about the Great Awakening.  First and foremost, I do not know how to interpret military intel:  I have difficulty with the narrative as it changes daily.  Intel will always include disinformation, and at this point in the game-please know we are winning the war.  God wins.  The hard part appears to be over, yet we truly need to keep our President, his family and our military in our prayers.  The border crises is real, global warming is not a thing, and yes-HRC is going to GITMO, and she will be executed for treason.

These are the things I can promise you.

A bit of research and you will find this is anything BUT a political stunt, Psy-op or intention to split this country and its citizens any further.  The Great Awakening is a movement to bring this nation’s people closer together.  United we are so much stronger than alone!  This entire plan, in place for years, is God’s plan.  I don’t care if you love him or hate him, but this president has done more for our country than any president in our history to fight for Americans and bring us to the truth.

The Trump administration is excelling at the battle of good against evil:  hundreds of thousands of indictments for sex trafficking and pedophilia.  Bringing sanity back to the White House after eight years of darkness.  Whether you believe it or not, Barry Saetero was groomed from a very young age by the powers of Darkness, the CIA and Rockefeller family.  He is in fact a Satanist.  A little bit of research and the proof is there, for all of you to see.

No.  You will not see this in the mainstream media, not yet.

Patriots have become the news, and that is also a fact.  YouTube, Facebook and Twitter are presently overcome with Patriots and “conspiracy theorists.”  It is confusing and hard to know what to believe.

I pray you listen to this tape, as it is, in a nutshell, what we are all fighting for:  freedom from tyranny, and the God’s honest truth.  No, you will definitely not enjoy your journey to an awareness of what is reality and very hard to swallow.  No, it is not your fault for not knowing this, Project Mockingbird Media took to brainwashing you years and years before you were born.  The powers that be, the Illuminati, have had their way in what we see, read and watch-they want you frightened, terrorized actually.  The New Age is a wonderkid of the occult, also brought to you by the CIA and Rockefeller families.  This was there way of bringing Satan (their god) into the church, a great deception that is going strong today.  A deception that will come to fruition when you have taken the mark of the beast.

For real, brothers and sisters.

It is my prayer that we can heal our families, churches and societal mores that have been so badly broken by the dragon, who scours the earth with earnest-for any unsuspecting sap who’ll fall for his lies.

Let The River Run Like Wild

Starting off with a little bitch fest-when I began my blog two years ago, I wanted it to be unique, to help others and to set myself free from the chains that bind.  I have always loved music-and I had a song for so many events in my life, so the next step was easy.  I began using music videos to start off each writing.  Now everyone is doing it and it yanks my chain.

There.  I feel better.

I thought we had found a church, the little chapel in the strip mall, where my in-laws worship.  We live along the Bible belt in Amish country-there are no lack of churches.  Yet my man and me have a dilemma:  every church we attend falls apart after three or four years.  Is it us?  No, not at all.  After putting things in perspective, I realized that when you are growing in your faith?  Well, the more you know the more critically you think about what you do and do not want in your worship haven.  That’s right:  church and fellowship is so intimate, so important-it matters who you surround yourselves with.

We left Hosanna, our last church, because I began to see the forest through the trees.  Lovely people, truly lovely men and women-it’s just that I lost the Holy Spirit connection somewhere along the way, and for me-well, that is everything.  Our pastor was a very kind man, but hesitant to step on any toes whilst preaching.  The worship became more about keeping congregants than preaching the Word.  Personal opinion, of course.  I miss my friends, my beloveds-and that point was driven home yesterday:  after testing the waters that are the congregants themselves.

I bought a gorgeous, Tiffany blue, vintage hat on Saturday.  I collect them, adore them, and wear them on occasion to church-as is my wont.  A few weeks in to attending a new place of worship, I wear a hat-to see how it goes over.  I insist on being accepted for who I am, not what others want me to be.  As we walked in the door, Dwain’s parents were greeting.  Dressed in matching pink outfits (I kid you not, they do it all the time) they handed us the bulleting and we took a seat.  My favorite, favorite Christian rock band of all time is Damascus Road-the very same praise team who sang at our first church.  That band ruined me for life-there is simply no comparison to Miles’ voice and inherent joy that is evident when he praises God.  

This band was visiting the Bridge of Hope church, and I almost peed myself when I saw my friend, the leader of the band, smiling at me from the back corner of the building.

“This is going to be awesome!!!,” I said to my husband.  He smiled and kissed my cheek, clearly thrilled to see me smiling once again-it had been awhile.

Have you ever seen the commercial about the movie in which a family is torn apart because of the way their father praises Jesus in church?  He runs around the church, hands up in the air, thrilling to the beat of his own drum.

“Mommy, why can’t we have a normal daddy?,” the son asks.  I fall into fits of hysterical laughter each and every time I see it-because that is me.  I don’t run around, but I dance and flail my arms, not caring a hoot about anything but worshipping my Lord and Savior.

“Dad, you best move over a seat-when the band starts Sara is going to need room to move.”

So we danced and sang and hooted and hollered.  It was even better than I had imagined-so amazing to see people actually happy while performing and worshipping-not like they swallowed a rather unpleasant surprise, not like they want to end it all immediately after said service.  For crying out loud that disappoints and irritates me to no end.  If you aren’t excited, and on fire for God?  It will show in your performance.

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My weapon of choice.

Simply stated:  many people gawked, a few gave me the hairy eyeball.  It was as if I were carrying a poster that said, MURDER FOR HIRE, I kid you not.

And so it was this morning, when I had to stop at the Monster In Law’s house to pick up some shoes, that I was shot out of the proverbial cannon in response to the MIL’s comment:

“I like the outfit you were wearing yesterday, but I have to say I don’t fancy the hats.”

Well smack my ass and call me Judy.

Thus ended the going-to-church-with-the-MIL experiment.

People, my dear friends, suck the big one.

 

 

I See Dead People

In His infinite wisdom, God has seen to it that I retrieve my sense of humor from up my sphincter cavity; and to tell you the truth, I questioned Him.

Are you SURE?  I’m a withered nub of PMS, wrapped in a riddle of sinusitis and covered in the enigma of trying to somehow wade above the drama, and find out what the Harry is going on in this world.  I haven’t been able to write about the ridiculous and mind numbingly horrific news without throwing up on myself, let alone having a sense of humor about…well, anything, really.

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This made me l o l the other day.  Just random and silly, but hilarious in its truth.  I honestly have no beef with the alt left, I just think they are on the verge of hysteria, at any given moment in time.

Speaking of hysteria, with my “awakening” has come a honing of my sixth sense, if you will.  So, imagine me-all whacked out because of the constant researching of the scariest truths known to mankind, no family relationship, paranoid after a run in with Michael Rockefeller, I mean, Tom Hanks.  Not an ideal situation for a gal with PTSD-and now, oh now, I am seeing what I hope to be angels (not ghosts) in my peripheral vision:  it’s as if the veil has been taken back a notch too far, or something.

That is absurdly hilarious to me.

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Here’s some additional stress-within the next month the God’s honest truth, which I have been telling people for years (literally taken for the town crier) is going to come out.  I want my estranged beloveds to come to me, no questions asked!  This isn’t about me being right or wrong.  This is simply the truth.  I have s sort of survivor’s guilt going on, this heavy cloak of knowingness.   I simply cannot come out of hiding (robe and fuzzy bunny slippers, people) until the people in my life are aware-too hurtful this not being believed stuff.  I could write a book, but hey, I want to keep my vibe going, you dig?

Through this entire journey, I have not pitied myself or begged for mercy.  Believe me, if it wasn’t for Jesus?  I’d look like one of the poor psych ward patients in American Horror Story, Season Two.  Dead serious.  I’d be rocking myself in a corner, frozen in the Twilight Zone, drooling Oxycontin.  Lord!  But I can promise you this: the world is changing for the better, as we speak.  Sure, some of your history will be rewritten, and, quite possibly you will have night terrors for the next few months, but hey?  It’s nothing we haven’t seen in predictive programming, right?

At the end of the day, it comes down to biblical spiritual warfare in realms we can and cannot see.  God has control, Jesus will keep you safe and better times are ahead.  All evil is being brought to the light.  I can feel a safer energy, if you will.  And not the New Age energy, don’t get me started on that big fat lie.  Pisses me off, to no end.

None of us can live more than one day at a time.  God wants his children to live joyous and comforted-fear is the work of Satan.  And speaking of the horny bastard…5f8c58fc2befa0e23f7ccaea41ea7445fb935fe3991fbabb7839825ba5c1bbfb.png

Like Some Heroine….

Every other Sunday, I work at our church Welcome Center.  I genuinely like my coworker, (names have been changed to protect the criminally insane, mainly me) Alice.  When we began working together, about two years ago, she frightened me to death.  I feared she may be judgmental, and I’ll be honest-she intimidated me-two years ago, that is.

When I first began attending Hosanna, I wasn’t in the best place at that time in my life.  I hadn’t dealt with my poor self esteem issues, and was not aware that my PTSD was eating away at my life, making me cripplingly insecure, and a people pleaser.  I tried to hard.  I wanted everyone to love me.  I had just come from a very broken church, and the grief enveloped me to the point where I am sure it showed.

Alice is pleasant, and I admire her status as a cancer survivor.  She likes things done her way, so we have fallen into a pattern of her doing the desk work, and me doing the people work.  I know she means well, but I am beginning to tire of her putting me down.  I am beginning to feel as if I should protect my heart, as she criticizes almost everything I do-but here’s the catch-she’s my sister and I love her, so therein lies the rub.

I told Alice about a picture of one of the congregants cats, who had just passed away.

I don’t do any social media.  You have to be very careful being on the internet, it is very evil and you are swayed way too easily.  You have no idea what goes on, (she is shaking her head as if I am a toddler) and we (Christians) would do best to stay away.

I mentioned that I wrote a blog on WordPress, a Christ centered one at that.  She mumbled underneath her breath.

I wanted to say something, yet gone is my rage.  I find it impossible to remain angry with some folks, and what is the point of harboring resentment?  I need to speak up or shut up.  I will pray for a way to approach her-say my peace and be done with it.

I believe she would be horrified to think she has hurt me; and I know I enabled the behavior simply by allowing it.  I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, she is kind and compassionate-yet today it kind of stood out, and gone are my paranoid ways: as a sensitive and intuit, I found it excruciatingly difficult to discern between being oversensitive and just plain hurt.  Over the past two years, Jesus and I have been working on my self esteem, values and perceptions.  I now know that I am okay, worthy and pure in God’s eyes.  This has changed not only my persona, but my boundaries.

I have found freedom in authenticity.  It has been a tiring, painful journey to get to this stage in the game-where I have tired of the human punching bag role in life.  I think myself equal with all people, no better, no worse.

How is Jesus working in your life?  Anyone have a similar experience?  I’d love to hear your thoughts~<3

It’s a Gas, Man

There are days, very few and far between, when I seethe in an unholy rage-directed at those who have wronged me, in particular, my sister.  I don’t dwell in this space, at least not for long.  Jesus warned us about acting out in anger, and it just doesn’t feel good.  Yet to deny the anger is not healthy either.  If there is one thing I have learned in my sobriety?  As Richard Gannon would say, you have to feel the feels.  There is a good reason why we experience the traumas in our lives, and that is to strengthen us and give us compassion towards others who have experienced same.

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Dogs are incapable of hurting the ones they love.

I wouldn’t change my history for the world, it has literally made me the woman I am today, and I am proud of her.  It took a very long time to come into this space of self love,  I respect myself.  The woman I am now seeks justice for the child I was then.  I often miss the big and open heart she once possessed.  Never thinking for a moment before offering help, often taken advantage of by narcissistic bottom dwellers of whom I pray for daily.

As I sit, putting on my oils and potions-I catch a glance of my face.

Who is that woman?

She has eyes of steel and a vengeful heart; numbed by years of scarring, emotional vulnerability.

It is in these moments of truth that she is humbled by what her Savior has done-finally, she is protecting her heart.

Like a mother bear.

If I Were the Devil…

 

I haven’t been writing on the subject of our reality in this day and age:  the fight of GOOD against EVIL, the thinning of the veil, pure evil being brought into the light-simply because the good news comes now, at warp speed.  The Good News meaning a myriad of things, but first and always foremost it is the story of Jesus.  He was born to Joseph and Mary (a virgin) in the little town of Bethlehem.  He grew to fulfill His purpose, which was to sacrifice himself, on that wretched cross, to pay the debt for our sins.  He died, but He rose again-bringing with him the Holy Spirit.  He now sits at the right hand of our Father, in heaven-with all of the Saints and Angels.

People.  If God could save a wretch like me?  He can, and will, save the likes of your sorry butts 🙂 All you need to do is ask Him to come into your life.  If you ask Him to, he will forgive all of your trespasses-and welcome you with open arms.  In my case, as bad as my life had become for so many reasons?  I needed to hit bottom-which ended up being my husband telling the social worker in the emergency room that I had pointed a knife at him, over a bottle of wine.

And then, he burst into tears.

I was accompanied to the bathroom by a police officer, who stood suicide watch on me through the night.  They gave me meds so strong, that I slept through the next day-as my husband emptied the house of any vestiges of booze.  The next few years were the absolute worst/best of my life.  But mostly worst.  I clung to Jesus for dear life!

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I want you to know a few things, such as I was not awake myself until two years ago.  The PTSD and Lyme had taken their toll on my mind and my immune system.  My anxiety and depression left me incapable of dealing with any stress whatsoever.  Ironically, the quest for truth God put me on has added to the trauma.

But yet when I am my weakest, only then am I strong.

This sentiment in this scripture  speaks to me, speaks to my very soul.  I have lived through a life that could not have been lived by the faint of heart.  From the time I was a young, chubby girl yearning to be loved to the anorexic fright of a waif, weighing in at 73 pounds, Jesus has been with me.  Even in my isolation, there was a solace and peace-I was never truly alone.  I desperately needed Him.  A  grueling battle with alcoholism and addiction to opioids left me feeling unworthy, unloved and unwanted.  I can honestly say I despised myself, and drifted away from the church.

This isn’t the story I want to be telling, but one day during the first year of my sobriety, I fell to my knees in eight inches of snow, and cried out to Jesus.  I wept and wept and prayed that He forgive me for my transgressions-it took me awhile to believe it, but he did, and I felt it.  To this day I literally take one moment at a time, one day at a time asking the Holy Spirit to guide my endeavors.  On paper?  God waking me up at such a time as this is objectionably hilarious.  Me?  The girl that screams bloody murder when she mistakes her slippers for a rodent?  The gal who can’t read Dean Kuntz at night, even with her husband right beside her?  The girl who has to light every candle in the house for aromatherapy, just to write a check?

I have really bad issues with money.  Oy vey.

Yes.  Apparently so.  The Great Awakening is about a movement of like minded people,  who begin to realize that the life they had been living was an absolute shit show.  We just didn’t know it at the time.  The treason and evil go deeper than a hundred blogs could cover.  We are at the inception of a mass awakening, as the Trump administration (through QAnon) begins the delicate unraveling of the truth.  The corruption.  The evil on a scale that “would put 99% of America in a hospital.”

I have news for the enemy.

President Trump wants to control the drop of information, so as not to alarm and cause mass hysteria.  I want this blog to be a place where you can come to get the absolute truth, in a loving and humble manner.  All glory goes to God, thousands of people have this information-and we are okay, for the most part.  There are support groups, those who will answer questions, and those that offer the truth in a safe, timely and responsible manner, that honors God and country.

Tomorrow we’ll take it from the beginning,

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“TRUMP ISN’T GOD!!!!!!”

I can tell you for a fact a harder week I have not experienced.  After the stress of waiting for “The Plan” to go down, anticipating the False Flags and suicides-I came to a very large, very frightening bump in the road.

I admit it, I am addicted to Twitter.  I am a digital soldier in the war against tyranny, evil and anything not of God.  I believe in QAnon, I believe in the Great Awakening, and yes-I believe in Donald J.  Trump.

Isaac Kappy committed suicide-TMZ

I don’t want to go into detail, mostly because I am on the upswing today-but that news shook me to the core.  I wept, in bed, for two days.  I am still weeping, just not as much.  I lost myself in the grief.  I knew him, I followed him and I loved his spirit.  I loved the courage it took to come out against Pedophilia in Hollywood-he knew it was a risk, he knew he could die-yet he felt so very strongly for the abused children and victims of Satanic Ritual Abuse.  He risked his career, his livelihood and in the end, the boogey man won.  Or, the Deep State if you would prefer.

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The darkness overwhelmed me.  I couldn’t eat, speak or stay vertical for almost three days.  It was terrifying.  I have to admit that I do have a cold, and I am premenstrual-so that added to my status as a complete emotional wreck.

My husband and I had argued the day of Isaac’s death.  I was hurt because he didn’t take my grief or my friend seriously.  He was actually angry with me-but we didn’t get down to that until today.  He is afraid I will meet a Prince Charming whilst surfing the worldwide web.  Bless his heart.  So today, he came home from work and began discussing a chat he had with his coworkers.  I interrupted, started to talk of POTUS (Dwain is a die hard conservative and stands by him one thousand percent)

“Trump isn’t GOD!!!!!!!!!!!”  he screams.

Seriously?  I truly think he has his panties in a bunch because I am as you say, in the know.  He hates it that I know more than he does, yet he will not allow me to tell him the truth, as we anons know it to be.  God bless him, I often wish I hadn’t gone down this roller coaster -rabbit hole.  But God kept telling me to search for the truth.  And after a lifetime of emotional abuse at the hands of family, therapists and “friends.” I suffer from PTSD.  I can only say that those of us with this disorder are not ones to fancy being snuck up on-ironically, I have found an inner strength, through Jesus Christ, that surprises me.

I can tell you a few things-Trump is not God, but our Lord has ordained him for such a time as this.  The Plan goes back years, before JFK, JR. faked his own death, to avoid being “arkansided” by his running mate for New York Senator-Ms. Hellary Clinton herself.

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In closing, I would like to give a shout out to Mr. Tom Hanks, your Twitter feed is now being investigated by the Feds.  You are a sick and evil, twisted little man.

Thank you Peacock-it helps to have friends in high places~