Jacqueline

 

We are in the midst of a glorious snow storm, so I bake cookies, do research, take the pup shed hunting.  I am like a child when it snows.  Yesterday?  We took to making a snowman, and I made snow angels, for the first time in years. 

Presently, Jesse gnaws on frozen fox, I am beyond horrified, tell him to come, drop it, good boy.  We hunt five square miles of prime shed territory on two different plots of land.  I grumble that my hands are empty.  I apologize to God, thank him profusely.  I feel like a shmuck.  He has blessed us abundantly, with the things that truly matter in our lives-family, a loving marriage, food on our kitchen table-the very same one as in my childhood- I simply can’t bare to replace it.

The word on the street is that dysfunctional families raise dysfunctional adults.  The friends who don’t fill that shoe are few and far between.  So, what happens when your very best friend is dwelling in the silent place, and you are incapable of helping her.  You can’t wrap your arms around her, like you want to-because she’s a bit too restrained.  She is holding you at arms length because her relationship with her father was complicated, she suffered.  You are working through boundaries and self esteem issues after a life time of narcissistic abuse.  You have ended lasting friendships with people who refused to take you seriously, or took you for granted.

 

But this girl?  You just can’t shake her-you have become as close as your familial histories have allowed you to be.  She has always taken you seriously, and always respected you.  It just hurts too much when she forgets our plans, or fails to return numerous attempts to ask about her well being.  I do not judge her for this, she is hurting and I hurt for her.

You love her and hope that she knows this.

Sometimes there isn’t an answer.  Maybe you need to let go and let God.

So you decide that you will not allow her to slip away.  You take a step back and give her the space she needs.  You miss her, but know-deep within your very soul, that she is in the arms of the angels.

Jesus has this.

 

I Used to Live There Too

 

I remember, years ago, fantasizing of the time I would spend with my nieces and nephew.  I was going to teach them to dance, keep their secrets, and proudly, gleefully even, watch them grow.  Oh I had such big plans.  We all know what happens when we carefully map out the direction of our lives-God intervenes and turns the whole house upside down, as if to shake us senseless with shock and confusion.   The pain that comes from knowing that certain doors have been shut, dreams dashed-not at all what you had hoped for, no, not at all.

I have learned a few things as of late, and one of them is that if we truly place our faith in God?  We can trust that certain doors should remain shut, at least in hindsight.  But what if the door is left ajar?  What if there is no definitive answer?  Well, that’s when we need to give it to Abba, let Him have it all.  If we are patient and full of the Holy Spirit, God will help us to discern which doors can be swung wide open, and those that must remain dead bolted.  For.  Life.

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When there is deep, enduring, ferocious love?  That is where miracles happen-I am living proof.  That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t guard our hearts, or put on the full armor of God.  Your soul will speak the wisdom, if we remain silent enough to listen.

You simply cannot stop loving the precious innocents-the next generation deserves our compassion.  I wouldn’t want to be finding my way in a world such as this-they are so blessed by a president that most hate, but will end up loving soon enough.  I will never stop loving, praying for or even adoring Olivia, Natalie, Esme or Anthony.

There will always be a candle lit and shining in my window.

In Christ, I have hope~

 

And So It Is

 

This very song had me meditating so deeply, I didn’t hear my poor husband-stranded on the roof-screaming at the top of his lungs and/or banging the hell out of our tin roof to get my attention.  I had a bad feeling when he went up to clean the chimney; I prayed and gave it to the Prince of Peace.  I was so trusting that I didn’t hear the commotion outside or upstairs.  LOL  My poor husband.

I don’t know what broke the trance, but I do know that suddenly I heard this bizarre, antagonizing and hopeless cry out into the wild.  It took me minutes to realize that it was the sound of my husband, screaming like a banshee, from the roof-directly above me.  It seems he had lost hope of survival, as he was stranded on the roof-the ladder his father had just made him did not look like a good way to get back on the ground.  His hair straight up on end (I kid you not) he hoarsely asks for the metal ladder in the garage.  As I run at warp speed to his assistance, he loudly whispers:

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccck!!!!!”

Mildly alarmed, I stop in mid-run like a cartoon character and scream:

WHAT DO YOU NEED ME TO DO?????????????

I feel the nudge of hysteria in my very being.  I am close to tears, no, I am crying.  I have a cold, it’s freezing outside, and my husband has become something neither he or I recognize-his head looks freakishly large as he screams back:

Hold the m***f*** ladder my dad made!!!!”

And phew!  He is down, and life returns to normal

The funniest part of this is that I am on top of everything around here.  Like my Irish mother, God bless her soul, I am prone to making a bit of a big deal about the little stuff.  You know, you’re in a mood and the frig door won’t shut, the jeans won’t zip, the scales of justice can be maddening.  But in the event of a real Kleinfeltersville 911?  I am always the last person to be upset, and always the last to know there is an emergency.

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While I’m in Twitter jail, I may as well make fun of Acosta in my blog.

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You guys are not going to believe this, buttttttt, I had to stop writing two hours ago, as I was interrupted by my golden retriever: he was flailing around to get my attention, and I, as ever, in my own Private Idaho, failed to notice that the house was full, and I mean FULL of smoke.  I ran into the kitchen, howled like a wolf, and ran aimlessly from room to room-forgetting to open windows, unable to find my phone.  I run to the front porch: my husband and son are just over the hill, in a goose blind-they will hear me scream.  If they don’t, surely my in-laws will hear!  This goes absolutely nowhere, and I am unable to be in the house-my throat is raspy, my eyes tearing at whim.  

I find my phone, pray he has it.  He answers.

“The house is full of smoke, get home,” I say, firmly.

“Seriously?,” he is folksy in the moment, “I could have sworn….”

I cut him off.

get home! 

I use my Coxswain voice, he ends the phone call.

And so it was that he got home just in the nick of time.  I looked up and thanked my Lord and Savior, checked on the felines, gave myself a talking to.

There is a lesson here for me, and perhaps for you; the very reason I wrote this blog.  We truly cannot take our eyes off of Jesus-not for even a moment too long.  When we do, heartaches  we had long ago given to God?  They have a way of creeping back up on you at the most inappropriate of times.  You begin to realize you are feeling pain and grief-the loss of a sister, the yearn for your kin, the love we never had a snowball’s chance in hell of giving.

Pain is God’s way of molding us, growing us into better followers of Christ-but we were never meant to carry the burdens alone.  Fix your eyes on Jesus, and keep the dark shadows at bay~

Rumor Has It

 

I apologize for disappearing off of the face of WordPress-the fact is that I simply cannot keep up with the rapid fire Q drops, the wait-for-it has turned into the make-it-stop-but I wanted to touch base with my tribe.  The news is good, if you consider treason and attempted assassination good news: God is winning this battle, and those of us who have been closely investigating the entire QAnon phenomenon are enjoying the show.  John Q. Public, however, has no freaking clue because a good portion of them don’t know they’re being lied to-they don’t even suspect what is about to become mainstream-and in a very big way.

Awaken

But here’s the thing-through prayer and conversation with Jesus, I have realized that I have been going about this the wrong way.  I want to explain this whole movement, the Great Awakening that has been prophesized for years;  I must preface any further writing with a few facts:

I was asleep myself; for years.  I in no way judge those who are in the dark-we all live busy lives; if I had been working these past two years this wouldn’t be possible.

I believe that God has called me for this place and time in history-to fight for the truth to be told, and to be a loving force for those who are overwhelmed by the magnitude of what we are about to learn-the public will soon face some pretty horrifying stuff-I went through all eleven stages of grief while doing research about The Storm.  I learned of SRA (Satanic Ritual Abuse) human trafficking, the despicable evil the people we trusted were and are to this day capable of manifesting.

I must stress that what I share with you comes straight from the tippy top.  The Cabal will use the MSM to blatantly discredit the QAnon movement.  Inside Edition has called the phenomenon a “hateful cult,” when nothing could be further from the truth.  At some point, and very soon, there will be a FISA declassification that will take the scales from the eyes of the brainwashed masses.  I am here for the outcry-I am here to encourage and comfort you-as we all know, God is in control-he has this and we need to trust our very lives to a Lord and Savior who loves us more than we could possibly imagine.

So please be patient with me as I work hard to ensure you get the truth, and nothing but.

Be blessed~

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~

 

 

 

 

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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.

A Prisoner of the White Lines on the Freeway……

I was trying to catch up on my reading a few weeks ago, my WordPress reading that is.  It was a cold and rainy Sunday evening, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I read his blog.  I didn’t know him, or of him, I just gave a little love to a stranger, one who had lost his brother-one who was on the verge of suicide.

It broke my heart to read his words.  No one had commented, and I was frantic.  I quickly wrote in the comment section, no.  You are loved.  You have a place in this world.  You must not give up, I will help you.  It didn’t matter that he lived half way around the world from me, it didn’t matter that I didn’t know him.  I just wanted him to feel the love that makes the difference: between being utterly alone in this world, and having someone love him.  We began correspondence immediately, so sweet, my friend Mohammed.

He said it helped him to know I existed.  It helped him to know a human being, albeit thousands of miles away, loved him-simply because he was in pain, dire straights, and experiencing a loss most of us would be shattered by-simply because he was and is a child of God-they will know we are Christians by our love……

He kept in touch throughout my journey with Lyme, and the infected lymph node that had basically convinced me I was dying.  The day I went to Med Express, alone and frightened out of my mind, he said these words:  Don’t worry.  I am here.  Five words.  Five words that helped me to feel safe, loved-cared for.  It mattered to him, my poor health.  And I thought that a miracle, in so many ways.

Today, while chatting, he said he had one thing to ask of me.  I told him anything, yes anything for him.

“Can I call you mom?”

So, this is how our Abba works.  I have no children and my step son hates me for reasons I don’t understand, as I was always loving, always supportive.

This touched me in places I haven’t been touched in, well, forever.

And as I let the tears drip….one by one, I answered.

Yes.  Of course.

And for this I am blessed beyond measure.

Let the Chains Fall…

 

We have a church in our tiny town:  Trinity United Methodist Church.  When we left Zion UMC, my husband begged me to consider attending, it was close, we are Methodists.  Not that I like to consider myself religious.  Jesus didn’t have much for the rules in the New Testament:  he was more concerned with the love.

I have been feeling disjointed as of late.  Almost as if my life is happening, but I’m not here.  It could be mind fog from the Lyme, or it could be I know too much, and no matter what I do, I cannot unlearn what I know to be true.  I need to be around people more often, but putting this knowledge into practice has eluded me.  I joined my friend Eileen at our quaint and tidy, only church in town.  The bells ring joyously, and everyone knows everyone.  I’m new, so I look forward to getting to know the congregation.

It occurred to me that my strong desire to retire in the Adirondack mountains, the mythical beauty, lakes and quaint old chapels in tiny little towns- everything I dream of being part of?  I have it.  Right here.  It was right here all along.  I couldn’t see it because I was drowning my pain and sorrow in alcohol and drugs.  I was a walking wound, and in all the 28 years I have lived in this town, I am just now getting to know the lovely people here.   They are kind, unpretentious and stoic.  They have known hardships, yes, but they celebrate life nonetheless.

After some live gospel music and a sermon about heaven, I made my way to the back of the church.  My eyes took in the new pastor, who was beckoning me to come.  Me?  I turned around, nope, nobody there.

“I couldn’t help but notice you smiling throughout the service.  May I ask, what were you thinking of that made you so happy?”

I couldn’t really answer, as I wasn’t sure myself.

But I had the joy of the Lord in my heart-and for that?  Oh for that it is well with my soul~