Life During Wartime

 

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco, this ain’t no fooling around..

I saw a video this morning that kind of, sort of, somewhat saved my sanity.  Her name is Polly, and I had subscribed to her two years ago, while up in the mountain cabin we call our second home.  We don’t own the cabin, but our friends are generous enough to allow us free reign, and for that we are incredibly thankful.  Here’s the thang:  I didn’t remember following her, and I saw her in a new light as she was doing vids on The Great Awakening.

 

What is the Great Awakening?

Many people mistake this movement as a blatant political statement geared towards wiping the planet of liberals:  I caution you not to fall for that, as this movement does not discriminate exclude anyone, of any denomination or political affiliation.  Quite simply?  We have been lied to, manipulated, and poisoned-literally-by the people we were taught to trust.  Once you go down the Rabbit Hole, so to speak, you cannot unlearn what you are faced with-and afterwards?  After you are AWAKE (I believe God chooses when and if we are to awaken, and frankly?  It has been an ongoing process: it begins where Elizabeth Kubler-Ross left off-you will grieve, you will deny, you will bargain and in the end?  It is up to you to decide what your heart and soul are telling you.

Discernment.

Patriotism.

Faith.

A purpose driven quest to get to the truth, no matter the cost.

In my case, as in Polly’s, I lost my family.  Everything I thought I knew fell away.  At first, I was screaming the facts at anyone who would listen.  I made mistakes.  I wept daily.  And to this day I am alone in my fight, to be a seeker of the God’s honest truth.

I don’t try to red pill anyone any longer.  You can use this information in any manner you choose.  I don’t write on it very often as I am still working on a way to begin a blog under an assumed name-my life is no longer my narcissist’s business, but she is loathe to understand this concept-and reads my writings daily.

I pray we can all come together, as a nation, as a people, as God’s children.  For only then will this bitter war of words and flesh end; for the good of all nations under our mighty Savior.

Say brave things-you have a roaring Lion inside of you, and he is begging to be heard.

 

Chimes of Freedom

I had meant to publish this on the Fourth of July, but for some reason it lay dormant in my drafts file.  I am incredulous at how Jesus has kept me strong through the darkest days of my life-but I know, as I know my surname, that He never, ever left me.

I haven’t written as I’ve had no inkling to, and I try not to force myself to do more than I already force myself to do.  OCD, it’s a silent killer, man.

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We weren’t in the door after a trip to the beach, when I received a text from my dying friend, Scott.  Actually, it was from his wife, whom I correctly assumed despised the absolute crud out of me.  Pure, unadulterated hate.

STAY AWAY  STAY AWAY

My friend and I had said goodbye about a month ago.  He had told his wife that we had a special bond-which added to her ire, I am quite sure.  You see, Scott and I weren’t allowed to see each other for two years, because she thought we were having an affair. She would drive by my house frequently, and when I happened to run into him he acted as if he was being chased by the Nazis.  It made me sad, to see him so isolated.  You see, I knew back then that his wife was a narcissist-but not to the level I have learned, and the hard way.

When I dropped by that day four weeks ago, Scott warned me about coming around.  He was very frank about his wife’s disdain.  We rode on the golf cart, around his beautiful acreage, where he pointed out the area where he had thirty dozen tulips planted as a surprise for Sherry.  We wept, and spoke as one does in a situation like this.

My friend was alone and terminally ill.  He told me his wife had pushed his entire family out of their lives, the same with the kids and any friends he may have loved.  He was utterly alone.  The news that I could never come back to the house hit me hard.  I wept for three days.

As fate would have it, my husband insisted that I sit down and talk with Sherry alone.  I had no desire whatsoever, after the dozens of previous conversations that did nothing but give her supply, and make an ass out of me.

And so it was that we ended up stopping in, at Dwain’s insistence.

She’ll be fine, he said.

She won’t be there, I said.

Scott text me to come before three, when Sherry would be home.  We came before three, and if you could have seen the look on my face?  You would have thought I had seen the Boogey Man, right then and there.

And so I talked to the wall again, and she blamed it on Scott confusing his thoughts.  Then she asked if I would like to care for him three days a week, and I foolishly accepted.

Long story short?  The sorrow in my heart for him waxes profane.  I am helpless and so is he.  I pray he goes home quickly, he has suffered far too much in his life, married to an emotionally abusive ice cube who taunted and ridiculed him for thirty five years.

I can give it to God, which I have.  And one day, oh one glorious day?  She will have to answer to the Most High.

Damnit, I wish I could be a fly on that wall.

Below, the blog I wrote on July 4, 2019

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I don’t care how strong or stoic you are; when it comes to your heart, or the breaking of it; your grief will find its way. Losing my ability to run from my emotions today, I finally let go and cried on my golden retriever’s neck-is there any better place for waterworks? Your canine/feline’s neck? Sigh.

The fall weather makes my heart sing-I love the cool air, the life transforming sunsets, and the harvest of a hard Summer’s work. Everything, from hay rides to pumpkins-it’s all good, I treasure every day. Big blankets, cinnamon burning on the stove, my pup at my feet. A Holy Bible. A Dean Koons. A warm cup of cocoa next to the fireplace, even if it is just gas. Our wood stove in the kitchen, cranking out heat so strong I walk around buck naked some days: the hot flashes don’t bode well with my husband’s desire to warm his feet, which have no circulation due to frostbite obtained in a long ago hunting trip.

My day turned from glorious to harsh reality in ten seconds flat. While hiking at Speedwell Forge, a beautiful but far away place. We go there maybe every two weeks, and due to recent flooding-we hadn’t been in months. Halfway through the trek I took out my cell. A screen I had seen only once before appeared; some sci-fi looking alert. I couldn’t turn the stupid phone off, and I was set to take pictures of an ethereal waterfall. I knew I was being targeted, and I was wild.

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I took my phone apart and head out towards the jeep. I was furious. Speech is not free in America, and hasn’t been for some time now. If you have a voice that goes against the mainstream media, you will be silenced. Period. Not only will they shadow ban on social media, but they will fuck with your electronics until you’re at the point of pulling your hair out. Literally.

Do you have any idea of how long it takes me to write a blog? Hours. The screen will go blank just as I am getting going, suddenly I will lose my work-even after I have saved it. It sounds silly, but after two years of this crap, I am beyond angered, frustrated, homicidal. Okay, not homicidal, but seriously?

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I have taken on an assignment from Jesus. For two years I have been led, by the nose at times, on a quest for truth. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS (the deep state contains more than a few Republicans, Mike Pence being a satanic, POS pedophile himself-and yes, I have proof)and due to the successful mission of Project Mockingbird-the media is full of CIA operatives, who are trained to “brainwash” the lowly general public. I will write more on this subject, and include research affirming my statements.

The point of all of this is that while I have no choice in the matter; while I don’t go down the rabbit holes with any joy in my heart; the fact is, this is how God wants to use me, in the here and now. He has been preparing me for such a time as this. Losing friends and family has been hard on my psyche, and three are days when the loneliness and isolation leave me breathless and weeping.

No. I didn’t ask for any of this, but I sure as hell fire will do my very best, to be the hands and feet of my Lord and Savior, Jesus.

Les Deplorables

Sitting here on Slaughter Beach-named after the migratory Horseshoe crabs washed up on the shore in early June.  This is there breeding ground, and I have been told that you can’t kill them, it’s illegal.

And, as I write this?  I am reminded that it is still against the law to kill Deplorables; at least I believe it is.

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I woke early, eager to watch the sunrise over the bay.  Over the last few days I have had predictable, yet disturbing results when mentioning my beloved POTUS.  As a matter of fact, I would have kept my mouth shut, I mean, I’m on a hiatus-absolutely no need or want for drama.  That didn’t occur to me when the couple staying next door ran into us in the driveway.  I couldn’t help but notice he was military, as his army gear spelled it out.  Here was my chance to talk to another Patriot, and I wasn’t going to miss it.

Thank you for your service soldier!  So, what are your thoughts on our amazing President?

“Sorry ma’am, I can’t comment-good or bad-about the president when in uniform.”

I could feel the underlying tension-you could cut it with a knife.

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I was confused and saddened.

Then, a truly enchanting conversation with the neighbor down the beach.  Effervescent and loving, we bonded immediately.  She was a nurse in our home town, and I brought up my blog.  Not politics, my blog.

I hope to purchase a small cottage on the bay, and I believe the president is working on this country’s affluence as we speak.  Things are going to change for the better, don’t lose hope!, I chirped.

With that being said, the woman turned abruptly away from me.

“Have a nice stay,” she mumbled as she ran, not walked, for her porch.

Hmmm.  Maybe I don’t want a house on the beach in Delaware.

Honey, you’re on vacation, give it a rest.

Now I’m supposed to avoid conversation with other humans?  I think not.

Will we ever live in unity Abba?  Will this nation come together and heal, as it did in the days and months after 9/11?

As I headed for the beach this morning, I ran into a lovely man named Kai.  From Sweden originally, but now living in upstate New York-we talked for the better part of an hour.  We really hit it off, so I didn’t think I was out of line when I showed him the video of Michael O’bummer on the Ellen DeGeneres show.

“Now that is what you call anatomically correct.  No doubt, that’s a man.  Holy shit!!!”

He warned me his wife, Lucille, was headed our way.  He told me to avoid politics at all costs:  My wife will eat you for breakfast.  Do yourself a favor.

And so it was, after discussing the removal of our history, illegal immigration and Trump’s tweets-she said this:

“You know who I really, really liked?  John McCain.  Now THERE was a man with balls.”

Before I stroked out, God reminded me that most people continue to watch the MSM narrative.  It won’t be long before the lamestream is out of our faces for good.  But in the meantime?  I will love humanity whole heartedly, despite our differences.  I don’t want to argue, I want to encourage, uplift.  I had to admit it, I loved this woman.

Later, Lucille said this to my husband-

“I simply adore your wife.  Even if she is a hippy who voted for Trump.”

Carpe Diem folks.  Get out there and love someone today!  Find the common denominator, and love the crap out of anyone who shares the ground you stand on.

For only when we come together will we change the world, one day at a time.

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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.

Guard Your Heart

Nothing better than Lucinda when you’re feeling…why, I don’t know what I am feeling, exactly.  A bittersweet mix of gratitude, prayer and high anxiety, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It is becoming obvious to me that some of us woke folks are starting to show signs of battle fatigue.  Some are losing their cool, and others (we are all in different stages of discovering the truth) are losing their religion, literally.  When you realize that the Pope is a satanic pedovore, that there is a dungeon in the Vatican, where they sacrifice children to satan-or that Hillary Rodham Clinton is actually in the exact same league?  Not only are you mustering up each and every crumb of courage in your body, but you are being traumatized-over and over again.

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Until I met my friend Kat, I didn’t realize just how far removed I have been from society.   Oh, I have a handful of extremely close friends-but I can count on one finger how many of them know the truth.  And she pretends she doesn’t when her man is around, so, yes, I would say I am very much alone, but didn’t fancy myself lonely until today, on the phone with Katherine.

“I saw the picture of the child that Hillary raped and murdered, Sara.  A woman on Twitter sent it to me, and I can’t sleep.  I can’t believe I saw that picture…”

We spoke for over an hour, taking great solace in the company of another soul who sees reality for what it is, and not what they want you to think it is.  Another human who has broken through the programming we have all had aimed at us since birth.  That’s right:  they have brainwashed us via music, movies and news-nothing, and I mean nothing is as it appears to be.

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What hurts us both the most?  The cold shoulders, family interventions, wide eyed stares into the abyss-each and every time we open our mouths.  She fought with her husband last night, and her family made her promise not to talk about John F. Kennedy, Jr. again.  You see, she had told her entire brood that he was going to be at the 4th of July festivities, not unlike my experience last Thanksgiving, when I announced to Dwain’s entire family that John would be in the Macy’s Day Parade.

“I’ll never make that mistake again,” I told her.  

Just moments later I realized that I had told you, my 400 followers! that John John would come out in Washington, D.C.-on the fourth of July.

“Shit.”

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Here’s the deal:  we wouldn’t risk everything in our lives, be it our family’s trust or the job we love, for some whack job’s conspiracy theory.

We know shit.

Things I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but there is little we can do to spare you the pain we know so well.  God will do that.

And as much as it irritates the shit out of me?

We’ll be here when you need us.

Chimes of Freedom

I don’t care how strong or stoic you are; when it comes to your heart, or the breaking of it; your grief will find its way. Losing my ability to run from my emotions today, I finally let go and cried on my golden retriever’s neck-is there any better place for waterworks? Your canine/feline’s neck? Sigh.

The fall weather makes my heart sing-I love the cool air, the life transforming sunsets, and the harvest of a hard Summer’s work. Everything, from hay rides to pumpkins-it’s all good, I treasure every day. Big blankets, cinnamon burning on the stove, my pup at my feet. A Holy Bible. A Dean Koons. A warm cup of cocoa next to the fireplace, even if it is just gas. Our wood stove in the kitchen, cranking out heat so strong I walk around buck naked some days: the hot flashes don’t bode well with my husband’s desire to warm his feet, which have no circulation due to frostbite obtained in a long ago hunting trip.

My day turned from glorious to harsh reality in ten seconds flat. While hiking at Speedwell Forge, a beautiful but far away place. We go there maybe every two weeks, and due to recent flooding-we hadn’t been in months. Halfway through the trek I took out my cell. A screen I had seen only once before appeared; some sci-fi looking alert. I couldn’t turn the stupid phone off, and I was set to take pictures of an ethereal waterfall. I knew I was being targeted, and I was wild.

DSCF6656

I took my phone apart and head out towards the jeep. I was furious. Speech is not free in America, and hasn’t been for some time now. If you have a voice that goes against the mainstream media, you will be silenced. Period. Not only will they shadow ban on social media, but they will fuck with your electronics until you’re at the point of pulling your hair out. Literally.

Do you have any idea of how long it takes me to write a blog? Hours. The screen will go blank just as I am getting going, suddenly I will lose my work-even after I have saved it. It sounds silly, but after two years of this crap, I am beyond angered, frustrated, homicidal. Okay, not homicidal, but seriously?

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I have taken on an assignment from Jesus. For two years I have been led, by the nose at times, on a quest for truth. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS (the deep state contains more than a few Republicans, Mike Pence being a satanic, POS pedophile himself-and yes, I have proof)and due to the successful mission of Project Mockingbird-the media is full of CIA operatives, who are trained to “brainwash” the lowly general public. I will write more on this subject, and include research affirming my statements.

The point of all of this is that while I have no choice in the matter; while I don’t go down the rabbit holes with any joy in my heart; the fact is, this is how God wants to use me, in the here and now. He has been preparing me for such a time as this. Losing friends and family has been hard on my psyche, and three are days when the loneliness and isolation leave me breathless and weeping.

No. I didn’t ask for any of this, but I sure as hell fire will do my very best, to be the hands and feet of my Lord and Savior, Jesus.

One Spinal Cracker

A few days ago, I told y’all the story about my unpleasant encounter with a woman from my exercise class, the trainer actually.  I called her Harriet.  

Harriett was hysterical after my factual retelling of the day when Mrs. Hoffmaster, my Kindergarten teacher, told me I would have to come for a few days during the Summer, to learn how to skip.  Yes, you read that right.  As I am regaling my audience with the story of how I was almost left back a grade, I was oh so rudely interrupted by Miss Thang.

“Oh no, Michele, that couldn’t have happened,” she is shaking her head, as if correcting a small child.  She went on to argue that she was a teacher for blah, blah, blah years-well, you can just imagine.  Stunned at first, I rallied for the cause and told her (nicely, I thought) that YES, INDEEDY DO, I GREW UP IN PHILADELPHIA, NOT THIS AREA.  WHO ARE YOU TO CALL ME A LIAR????  Ok, I didn’t say that part, but I argued with her until she shut her pie hole.

The women next to me mouthed, What the fuck?  I, on the other hand, had absolutely no problem saying WTF out loud.  As my face is my tell, I can only imagine the look I gave her.  I expected the situation to rectify after she apologized to me: needless to say, that wasn’t exactly an option.

On Thursday, I brought a carrot cake to class for the September birthdays.  I love to bake, and the ladies in Bands love to eat-so it works out nicely.  It was the first layer cake I had ever made, successfully that is.  I strategically parked next to the church (where class is held) so I had less of a chance at dropping my masterpiece.  🙂

While in class, I updated my girlfriend as she hadn’t been in class that day.  We both took notice that Harriet would not so much as look my way-let alone offer an apology.  Afterwards, Sherry and I stood outside, next to my jeep, and finished our convo  about the “incident.”

You did the right thing, sticking up for yourself, she said.  I think she owes you an apology, at the very least.

At that very moment, the diva walked past us, and gave me the oddest look-her eyes bulging out of her head-behind her prescription sunglasses.  At first I thought she may have overheard us, but I had nothing to hide.  And then it hit me, she was outraged that I had parked so close to her church.  She couldn’t believe the depravity, I mean, who did I think I was, anyway?

Here’s the rub.  Just last week she had confided that she thought she may be developing Alzheimer’s, as her father had died from the ravaging disease.  Knowing what I know, I asked her what type of personality he had.  I know that certain personality types are much more prone to dementia, especially the Narcissist.

She thought about that a second before answering.

Total narcissist, had to control everything freaking detail of our lives.  Just a very unhappy man.”

Oh, Harriet…