He is~

Ladies and gents, may I introduce the man God used to restore my sanity-Mr. Richard Gannon.  Although we’ve never met, I feel a solid closeness to this man as I’ve watched him go from traumatized and triggered to victorious and free.  I love him, adore even, and I find his videos a panacea to those of us who have been around the block a time or two with a toxic, dehumanizing relationship.

I can tell you that my husband fell into this category before he met Christ.  He was controlling and I codependent.  In some ways Dwain had to have a short reign on his wife, I was wild and addicted-prone to folly, and blackouts.  I once woke from a black out and realized I had third degree burns all over my right arm.  To this very day we don’t know how it happened, but I have an inkling it was demons-hell, I was playing with fire.

I recently wrote a blog addressing Dwain’s tendency to overreach his authority.  I deleted it as, turns out?  That happened to be the one he did read, and three times at that.  His Reader’s Digest version?

You told the world I was a satan worshipper.

No, I am not the only half of this couple who has a vivid imagination, and he does have a knack for missing entire points of conversation.

Post argument I spent my days busy, looking for apartments, and praying/sleeping.  Jesus always combines tragedies for me in a way I can’t quite describe, as if he is killing two birds with one stone.  I discovered a swollen lymph node last evening, which means I either have Lyme or I am down with the ship sick.  Almost every argument we have had?  It coincides with the absolute necessity that I slow down and heal, emotionally and physically-something my nervous energy does not allow, ever.  I also think there is a self-attached stigma to my boudoir, as through depression and illness I’ve done my time there.

4d6d1f8e25cbf9524e2c3909d39adfb545ff4235b41c3ccd011555daf31db430
If I feel as if my inner child is being attacked? It’s not going to be pretty, for anyone.

So, today I feel so punk I call it a day, and head right back up to bed after skimming the headline news.  I am drained, dehydrated and dangerously depressed.  I phone my husband, there is a small breakthrough.  Misunderstandings are corrected, words taken back for prosperity.  BUT, there is the reason I was triggered (the full moon, my period and being under the weather only added to my veracity) and that reason had years and years of build up.

I would have thought my temper would have been calmed by now, but interestingly enough?  I find that I am more ferocious, fiery that ever before.  It’s as if the Holy Spirit is fighting with me, or for me, I can’t say.  I can literally feel the Lion’s head rearing, and a force much stronger than me takes over from within.  The result is animalistic, intense and frightening.  Here’s the rub-I don’t get angry like I used to, I’ve been there and find it does nothing for one’s tendency towards migraines.  I know a thing or two, and I consider myself to be a calm and loving force of nature.

Alas, then it happens, I am T R I G G E R E D, a wound from childhood or even years ago will surface, along with a trauma memory-and Sara doesn’t live here anymore.  I have prayed about this phenomena, and it turns out it is healthy for those of us who have been abused, to feel the emotion of anger.  In other words, rage is good.  It means you respect yourself and in my case it also means I am defending the little girl who had no way of defense.

My war is not with my husband.  Nor my monster in law.  My war was with powers and principalities unseen, yes, in the spiritual realms.  However, I will not dine in the presence of mine enemies.

11428_10202438082672826_8659447189157527897_n
Jesse and Maybelline pile on the bed. I slowly succumb to the nurturing only Jesus can orchestrate.

Cried out, I did a bible dip for relief.  I say a prayer, and flip to a page to find His wisdom.

The comfort I received was read from Isaiah, a book I read from often.  My kitten snuggled close, kissing every centimeter of my face, tickling, delighting. Isaiah speaks to the reality that as Christians, we will be persecuted.  God will use these trials and heartbreaks to refine us, to strengthen us.  No, we will not be spared sorrow in this life.  Yet we can live this truth with certainty-Jesus will see us through safely, each and every step of the way.

He alone has the victory, and if you are His you will feel this in your very bones.

No one ever said that picking up your cross would be easy.  God assures us that it will be well worth the tears, and that He is carrying us-each and every step of the way.

16649025_394528127573887_7169289271080070843_n

He is~

Ladies and gents, may I introduce the man God used to restore my sanity-Mr. Richard Gannon.  Although we’ve never met, I feel a solid closeness to this man as I’ve watched him go from traumatized and triggered to victorious and free.  I love him, adore even, and I find his videos a panacea to those of us who have been around the block a time or two with a toxic, dehumanizing relationship.

I deleted my last writing as, turns out?  That happened to be the one he did read, and three times at that.  His Reader’s Digest version?

You told the world I was a satan worshipper.

No, I am not the only half of this couple who has a vivid imagination, and he does have a knack for missing entire points of conversation.

Post argument I spent my days busy, looking for apartments, and praying/sleeping.  Jesus always combines tragedies for me in a way I can’t quite describe, as if he is killing two birds with one stone.  I discovered a swollen lymph node last evening, which means I either have Lyme or I am down with the ship sick.  Almost every argument we have had?  It coincides with the absolute necessity that I slow down and heal, emotionally and physically-something my nervous energy does not allow, ever.  I also think there is a self-attached stigma to my boudoir, as through depression and illness I’ve done my time there.

4d6d1f8e25cbf9524e2c3909d39adfb545ff4235b41c3ccd011555daf31db430
If I feel as if my inner child is being attacked? It’s not going to be pretty, for anyone.

So, today I feel so punk I call it a day, and head right back up to bed after skimming the headline news.  I am drained, dehydrated and dangerously depressed.  I phone my husband, there is a small breakthrough.  Misunderstandings are corrected, words taken back for prosperity.  BUT, there is the reason I was triggered (the full moon, my period and being under the weather only added to my veracity) and that reason had years and years of build up.

I would have thought my temper would have been calmed by now, but interestingly enough?  I find that I am more ferocious, fiery that ever before.  It’s as if the Holy Spirit is fighting with me, or for me, I can’t say.  I can literally feel the Lion’s head rearing, and a force much stronger than me takes over from within.  The result is animalistic, intense and frightening.  Here’s the rub-I don’t get angry like I used to, I’ve been there and find it does nothing for one’s tendency towards migraines.  I know a thing or two, and I consider myself to be a calm and loving force of nature.

Alas, then it happens, I am T R I G G E R E D, a wound from childhood or even years ago will surface, along with a trauma memory-and Sara doesn’t live here anymore.  I have prayed about this phenomena, and it turns out it is healthy for those of us who have been abused, to feel the emotion of anger.  In other words, rage is good.  It means you respect yourself and in my case it also means I am defending the little girl who had no way of defense.

My war is not with my husband.  Nor my monster in law.  My war was with powers and principalities unseen, yes, in the spiritual realms.  However, I will not dine in the presence of mine enemies.

11428_10202438082672826_8659447189157527897_n
Jesse and Maybelline pile on the bed. I slowly succumb to the nurturing only Jesus can orchestrate.

Cried out, I did a bible dip for relief.  I say a prayer, and flip to a page to find His wisdom.

The comfort I received was read from Isaiah, a book I read from often.  My kitten snuggled close, kissing every centimeter of my face, tickling, delighting. Isaiah speaks to the reality that as Christians, we will be persecuted.  God will use these trials and heartbreaks to refine us, to strengthen us.  No, we will not be spared sorrow in this life.  Yet we can live this truth with certainty-Jesus will see us through safely, each and every step of the way.

He alone has the victory, and if you are His you will feel this in your very bones.

No one ever said that picking up your cross would be easy.  God assures us that it will be well worth the tears, and that He is carrying us-each and every step of the way.

16649025_394528127573887_7169289271080070843_n

 

 

Rally Round the Family…

Before I alarm my readers, I want to say that I wrote this in December of last year.  If you are a regular, your eyes would be bugging, you’d be thinking –

For crying out loud?  Is she left unattended on a regular basis, and if so, why?

That reminds me of the time my step son was pulling into the driveway one day last Spring.  I was in the garden as he turned into the driveway.  And then, I wasn’t.  Yep, stepped on a rake-just like you see in the movies-and knocked myself into a concussion.  To this very day?  I mind my business around them, try not to get too close.  Sneaky bastards.

This is the season of my content.  And that is precisely what I was thinking as I stood in my garden and thrilled to the Monarchs and hummingbirds.  I was feeling pretty overcome with emotion, gratitude on a level that is hard to put into words.  This was all I had dreamed of and more.  Not just the garden…

And then, all hell broke loose.

I bent down to watch a particular butterfly, caught by her beauty and grace.  It took approximately three seconds for me to realize that a mother effing praying mantis was eating her head.  There were muffled cries, lots of cursing mother nature, and, inevitably?  The hysterical spraying of said praying mantis with dawn dish soap I usually reserve for my roses.

On that note, have a fab Sunday and hope you enjoy~

*********************************************************************

Life goes along at warp speed until something stops you dead in your tracks: As was the case Sunday morning, after a full weekend of loving and socializing, the enemy came to take his due-you don’t think he isn’t out there trying to devour everything good in your life? Au contraire, mon amies! But here’s the good news-call out to Jesus, and you are free. He can’t hurt you if you are covered in the full armor of God.

But what about those times when evil does strike? Well, Abba will protect you in ways you couldn’t imagine, and that’s why I’m alive and writing this blog-my Lord and Savior sent His angels, and they protected me from a massive head injury and internal bleeding.

Just out of Dwain’s truck, exhausted from a weekend of frivolity, I could barely pick up my feet. I had promised my husband that I would collect the myriad of dog toys that lay around our yard, at the whim of my golden retriever, who thinks he has to entertain the grasshoppers and blue jays with his cacophony of babies. It’s so sweet, until it isn’t.

I had my purse in one hand, my drink in the other, AND I was carrying six, that’s SIX dog toys to boot. We have concrete stairs, no railing, and the stairs are ridiculously dangerous. It did not escape my mind, while sitting in the ER, that I had traipsed up and down said steps while drunk, high on cocaine, and worse. Never once even tripped. But yesterday was different. My boots caught on Jesse’s blue elephant, and down I went. I had no hands to put out, and I landed on my noggin.

I immediately called for Dwain, who could hear me, but couldn’t find me. Pain so severe I thought I would vomit, I remained perfectly still until my husband arrived on the scene. I am an EMT, and a CNA-I have volunteered in the Emergency Room, with hospice and prison ministries-I have seen it all and maintained my composure. This is the precise reason I am prone to freaking out when I get hurt-I simply know too much.

Head injury? I was out of my mind hysterical. It didn’t help when my husband picked up my head and his eyes bulged out of his-

“My GOD, is it THAT bad?,” I wail. He didn’t answer, he was too busy putting my ample white behind in his truck, grabbing ice and driving like a bat out of hell, towards the ER I had recently walked out of-after calling out the employees no less. As I walked in, I immediately placed my eyes on Dawn, who calmed me as she directed me towards the door. I knew where to go all right. I just didn’t know if they would help me, or hurt me. They had so much power at that moment.

A friend of mine, Katie, was the charge nurse, praise God. She gave me a hug and an ice pack, told me the doctor would soon be in. As Dwain sat on the bed, this came over the PA System:

ATTENTION: SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER. SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER.

“Fabulous,” I murmured. And then it hit me, we were the only people there, aside from an 83 year old man with a dizzy spell. What the Harry???? They were talking about me for crying out loud! I couldn’t figure this out as the knot on my head was the size of a peach, but the wound wasn’t bad, it bled very little.

Dr. Ammons didn’t waste any time checking me over. I was told it would hurt like hell for a few days, but that I was extremely fortunate as if I had hit one inch below, I could have had serious eye trauma. If my cranium had hit a few inches lower? I could have knocked out my front teeth. But I knew about head trauma, and I was frightened. I kept what I knew to myself, forgetting that my man is a first responder.

And so it was, that I woke this morning with a shiner the size of Texas, and a headache to beat the band.

And because of His love? I’ll be strutting my stuff, sooner than you can say the words accident prone.

RAW

Those who attack you.

Those who mock you.

Those who cull you.

Those who control you.

Those who label you.

Do they represent you?

Or, do they represent themselves (in some form)?

Mental Enslavement.

The Great Awakening (‘Freedom of Thought’), was designed and created not only as a backchannel to the public (away from the longstanding ‘mind’ control of the corrupt & heavily biased media) to endure future events through transparency and regeneration of individual thought (breaking the chains of ‘group-think’), but, more importantly, aid in the construction of a vehicle (a ‘ship’) that provides the scattered (‘free thinkers’) with a ‘starter’ new social-networking platform which allows for freedom of thought, expression, and patriotism or national pride (the feeling of love, devotion and sense of attachment to a homeland and alliance with other citizens who share the same sentiment).

When ‘non-dogmatic’ information becomes FREE & TRANSPARENT it becomes a threat to those who attempt to control the narrative and/or the stable.

When you are awake, you stand on the outside of the stable (‘group-think’ collective), and have ‘free thought’.

“Free thought” is a philosophical viewpoint which holds that positions regarding truth should be formed on the basis of logic, reason, and empiricism, rather than authority, tradition, revelation, or dogma.

When you are awake, you are able to clearly see.

The choice is yours, and yours alone.

Trust and put faith in yourself.

You are not alone and you are not in the minority.

Difficult truths will soon see the light of day.

WWG1WGA!!!

Q

I was up all night, but sleeping all the same. I have a recurrent dream: I am driving from one end of the country to the other, in several feet of snow-I get lost, I am frightened-I can’t make it to the person on the other side. The person who needs me is there, they are counting on me, I can’t fathom letting them down. Last night, the nightmare du jour was the children laying at the bottom of Gloria Vanderbilt’s pool at Biltmore Estate.

https://images.app.goo.gl/bMYf1RFevUbXvreX6

My mission? To save the babies. I was not successful.

This is how anons around the globe are feeling right as we speak. We have been prepared, normies have not. I walk from room to room, asleep yet awake-fumbling for my weed I hit the wall. I go down on my knees, I break before Jesus. My golden retriever comes to my side. Funny, I know I wasn’t making any noise-he is an incredible comfort.

Today the force of what is truly happening around the globe hit me full in the face. My PTSD triggered by an insensitive asshat, I don’t want to be making it worse. Try as I might I just can’t leave it alone. I want to make myself suffer, because they are suffering. For the first time in a very long time I self harm.

NO! NO! NO!

I will not allow the ignorance of others banish me to the kingdom of Naught. I have spoken nothing but the truth since word go-the mocking and hurtful behavior will not bring me down. Not this time, because God needs me to be present, fully aware of my surroundings. There is work to be done as the hands and feet of God-once we overcome the shock and despair? That is when you’ll see change, that is when you’ll see miracles. Pray for the medical professionals on the front lines.

If you need help, please reach out-I will try to have the information and phone numbers in tomorrow’s blog. There is no shame in grief, no shame in a broken heart. We are with you.

I hereby declare a bloody war on the next person who tries to fuck with one of His children. I will cut a bitch.

If I have to, that is.

Rally Round the Family…

Before I alarm my readers, I want to say that I wrote this in December of last year.  If you are a regular, your eyes would be bugging, you’d be thinking –

For crying out loud?  Is she left unattended on a regular basis, and if so, why?

That reminds me of the time my step son was pulling into the driveway one day last Spring.  I was in the garden as he turned into the driveway.  And then, I wasn’t.  Yep, stepped on a rake-just like you see in the movies-and knocked myself into a concussion.  To this very day?  I mind my business around them, try not to get too close.  Sneaky bastards.

This is the season of my content.  And that is precisely what I was thinking as I stood in my garden and thrilled to the Monarchs and hummingbirds.  I was feeling pretty overcome with emotion, gratitude on a level that is hard to put into words.  This was all I had dreamed of and more.  Not just the garden…

And then, all hell broke loose.

I bent down to watch a particular butterfly, caught by her beauty and grace.  It took approximately three seconds for me to realize that a mother effing praying mantis was eating her head.  There were muffled cries, lots of cursing mother nature, and, inevitably?  The hysterical spraying of said praying mantis with dawn dish soap I usually reserve for my roses.

On that note, have a fab Sunday and hope you enjoy~

*********************************************************************

Life goes along at warp speed until something stops you dead in your tracks: As was the case Sunday morning, after a full weekend of loving and socializing, the enemy came to take his due-you don’t think he isn’t out there trying to devour everything good in your life? Au contraire, mon amies! But here’s the good news-call out to Jesus, and you are free. He can’t hurt you if you are covered in the full armor of God.

But what about those times when evil does strike? Well, Abba will protect you in ways you couldn’t imagine, and that’s why I’m alive and writing this blog-my Lord and Savior sent His angels, and they protected me from a massive head injury and internal bleeding.

Just out of Dwain’s truck, exhausted from a weekend of frivolity, I could barely pick up my feet. I had promised my husband that I would collect the myriad of dog toys that lay around our yard, at the whim of my golden retriever, who thinks he has to entertain the grasshoppers and blue jays with his cacophony of babies. It’s so sweet, until it isn’t.

I had my purse in one hand, my drink in the other, AND I was carrying six, that’s SIX dog toys to boot. We have concrete stairs, no railing, and the stairs are ridiculously dangerous. It did not escape my mind, while sitting in the ER, that I had traipsed up and down said steps while drunk, high on cocaine, and worse. Never once even tripped. But yesterday was different. My boots caught on Jesse’s blue elephant, and down I went. I had no hands to put out, and I landed on my noggin.

I immediately called for Dwain, who could hear me, but couldn’t find me. Pain so severe I thought I would vomit, I remained perfectly still until my husband arrived on the scene. I am an EMT, and a CNA-I have volunteered in the Emergency Room, with hospice and prison ministries-I have seen it all and maintained my composure. This is the precise reason I am prone to freaking out when I get hurt-I simply know too much.

Head injury? I was out of my mind hysterical. It didn’t help when my husband picked up my head and his eyes bulged out of his-

“My GOD, is it THAT bad?,” I wail. He didn’t answer, he was too busy putting my ample white behind in his truck, grabbing ice and driving like a bat out of hell, towards the ER I had recently walked out of-after calling out the employees no less. As I walked in, I immediately placed my eyes on Dawn, who calmed me as she directed me towards the door. I knew where to go all right. I just didn’t know if they would help me, or hurt me. They had so much power at that moment.

A friend of mine, Katie, was the charge nurse, praise God. She gave me a hug and an ice pack, told me the doctor would soon be in. As Dwain sat on the bed, this came over the PA System:

ATTENTION: SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER. SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER.

“Fabulous,” I murmured. And then it hit me, we were the only people there, aside from an 83 year old man with a dizzy spell. What the Harry???? They were talking about me for crying out loud! I couldn’t figure this out as the knot on my head was the size of a peach, but the wound wasn’t bad, it bled very little.

Dr. Ammons didn’t waste any time checking me over. I was told it would hurt like hell for a few days, but that I was extremely fortunate as if I had hit one inch below, I could have had serious eye trauma. If my cranium had hit a few inches lower? I could have knocked out my front teeth. But I knew about head trauma, and I was frightened. I kept what I knew to myself, forgetting that my man is a first responder.

And so it was, that I woke this morning with a shiner the size of Texas, and a headache to beat the band.

And because of His love? I’ll be strutting my stuff, sooner than you can say the words accident prone.

He is~A Reblog

Ladies and gents, may I introduce the man God used to restore my sanity-Mr. Richard Gannon.  Although we’ve never met, I feel a solid closeness to this man as I’ve watched him go from traumatized and triggered to victorious and free.  I love him, adore even, and I find his videos a panacea to those of us who have been around the block a time or two with a toxic, dehumanizing relationship.

I deleted my last writing as, turns out?  That happened to be the one he did read, and three times at that.  His Reader’s Digest version?

You told the world I was a satan worshipper.

No, I am not the only half of this couple who has a vivid imagination, and he does have a knack for missing entire points of conversation.

Post argument I spent my days busy, looking for apartments, and praying/sleeping.  Jesus always combines tragedies for me in a way I can’t quite describe, as if he is killing two birds with one stone.  I discovered a swollen lymph node last evening, which means I either have Lyme or I am down with the ship sick.  Almost every argument we have had?  It coincides with the absolute necessity that I slow down and heal, emotionally and physically-something my nervous energy does not allow, ever.  I also think there is a self-attached stigma to my boudoir, as through depression and illness I’ve done my time there.

4d6d1f8e25cbf9524e2c3909d39adfb545ff4235b41c3ccd011555daf31db430
If I feel as if my inner child is being attacked? It’s not going to be pretty, for anyone.

So, today I feel so punk I call it a day, and head right back up to bed after skimming the headline news.  I am drained, dehydrated and dangerously depressed.  I phone my husband, there is a small breakthrough.  Misunderstandings are corrected, words taken back for prosperity.  BUT, there is the reason I was triggered (the full moon, my period and being under the weather only added to my veracity) and that reason had years and years of build up.

I would have thought my temper would have been calmed by now, but interestingly enough?  I find that I am more ferocious, fiery that ever before.  It’s as if the Holy Spirit is fighting with me, or for me, I can’t say.  I can literally feel the Lion’s head rearing, and a force much stronger than me takes over from within.  The result is animalistic, intense and frightening.  Here’s the rub-I don’t get angry like I used to, I’ve been there and find it does nothing for one’s tendency towards migraines.  I know a thing or two, and I consider myself to be a calm and loving force of nature.

Alas, then it happens, I am T R I G G E R E D, a wound from childhood or even years ago will surface, along with a trauma memory-and Sara doesn’t live here anymore.  I have prayed about this phenomena, and it turns out it is healthy for those of us who have been abused, to feel the emotion of anger.  In other words, rage is good.  It means you respect yourself and in my case it also means I am defending the little girl who had no way of defense.

My war is not with my husband.  Nor my monster in law.  My war was with powers and principalities unseen, yes, in the spiritual realms.  However, I will not dine in the presence of mine enemies.

11428_10202438082672826_8659447189157527897_n
Jesse and Maybelline pile on the bed. I slowly succumb to the nurturing only Jesus can orchestrate.

Cried out, I did a bible dip for relief.  I say a prayer, and flip to a page to find His wisdom.

The comfort I received was read from Isaiah, a book I read from often.  My kitten snuggled close, kissing every centimeter of my face, tickling, delighting. Isaiah speaks to the reality that as Christians, we will be persecuted.  God will use these trials and heartbreaks to refine us, to strengthen us.  No, we will not be spared sorrow in this life.  Yet we can live this truth with certainty-Jesus will see us through safely, each and every step of the way.

He alone has the victory, and if you are His you will feel this in your very bones.

No one ever said that picking up your cross would be easy.  God assures us that it will be well worth the tears, and that He is carrying us-each and every step of the way.

16649025_394528127573887_7169289271080070843_n

 

 

Rally Round the Family…

Before I alarm my readers, I want to say that I wrote this in December of last year.  If you are a regular, your eyes would be bugging, you’d be thinking –

For crying out loud?  Is she left unattended on a regular basis, and if so, why?

That reminds me of the time my step son was pulling into the driveway one day last Spring.  I was in the garden as he turned into the driveway.  And then, I wasn’t.  Yep, stepped on a rake-just like you see in the movies-and knocked myself into a concussion.  To this very day?  I mind my business around them, try not to get too close.  Sneaky bastards.

This is the season of my content.  And that is precisely what I was thinking as I stood in my garden and thrilled to the Monarchs and hummingbirds.  I was feeling pretty overcome with emotion, gratitude on a level that is hard to put into words.  This was all I had dreamed of and more.  Not just the garden…

And then, all hell broke loose.

I bent down to watch a particular butterfly, caught by her beauty and grace.  It took approximately three seconds for me to realize that a mother effing praying mantis was eating her head.  There were muffled cries, lots of cursing mother nature, and, inevitably?  The hysterical spraying of said praying mantis with dawn dish soap I usually reserve for my roses.

On that note, have a fab Sunday and hope you enjoy~

*********************************************************************

Life goes along at warp speed until something stops you dead in your tracks: As was the case Sunday morning, after a full weekend of loving and socializing, the enemy came to take his due-you don’t think he isn’t out there trying to devour everything good in your life? Au contraire, mon amies! But here’s the good news-call out to Jesus, and you are free. He can’t hurt you if you are covered in the full armor of God.

But what about those times when evil does strike? Well, Abba will protect you in ways you couldn’t imagine, and that’s why I’m alive and writing this blog-my Lord and Savior sent His angels, and they protected me from a massive head injury and internal bleeding.

Just out of Dwain’s truck, exhausted from a weekend of frivolity, I could barely pick up my feet. I had promised my husband that I would collect the myriad of dog toys that lay around our yard, at the whim of my golden retriever, who thinks he has to entertain the grasshoppers and blue jays with his cacophony of babies. It’s so sweet, until it isn’t.

I had my purse in one hand, my drink in the other, AND I was carrying six, that’s SIX dog toys to boot. We have concrete stairs, no railing, and the stairs are ridiculously dangerous. It did not escape my mind, while sitting in the ER, that I had traipsed up and down said steps while drunk, high on cocaine, and worse. Never once even tripped. But yesterday was different. My boots caught on Jesse’s blue elephant, and down I went. I had no hands to put out, and I landed on my noggin.

I immediately called for Dwain, who could hear me, but couldn’t find me. Pain so severe I thought I would vomit, I remained perfectly still until my husband arrived on the scene. I am an EMT, and a CNA-I have volunteered in the Emergency Room, with hospice and prison ministries-I have seen it all and maintained my composure. This is the precise reason I am prone to freaking out when I get hurt-I simply know too much.

Head injury? I was out of my mind hysterical. It didn’t help when my husband picked up my head and his eyes bulged out of his-

“My GOD, is it THAT bad?,” I wail. He didn’t answer, he was too busy putting my ample white behind in his truck, grabbing ice and driving like a bat out of hell, towards the ER I had recently walked out of-after calling out the employees no less. As I walked in, I immediately placed my eyes on Dawn, who calmed me as she directed me towards the door. I knew where to go all right. I just didn’t know if they would help me, or hurt me. They had so much power at that moment.

A friend of mine, Katie, was the charge nurse, praise God. She gave me a hug and an ice pack, told me the doctor would soon be in. As Dwain sat on the bed, this came over the PA System:

ATTENTION: SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER. SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER.

“Fabulous,” I murmured. And then it hit me, we were the only people there, aside from an 83 year old man with a dizzy spell. What the Harry???? They were talking about me for crying out loud! I couldn’t figure this out as the knot on my head was the size of a peach, but the wound wasn’t bad, it bled very little.

Dr. Ammons didn’t waste any time checking me over. I was told it would hurt like hell for a few days, but that I was extremely fortunate as if I had hit one inch below, I could have had serious eye trauma. If my cranium had hit a few inches lower? I could have knocked out my front teeth. But I knew about head trauma, and I was frightened. I kept what I knew to myself, forgetting that my man is a first responder.

And so it was, that I woke this morning with a shiner the size of Texas, and a headache to beat the band.

And because of His love? I’ll be strutting my stuff, sooner than you can say the words accident prone.

Rally Round the Family…

Before I alarm my readers, I want to say that I wrote this in December of last year.  If you are a regular, your eyes would be bugging, you’d be thinking –

For crying out loud?  Is she left unattended on a regular basis, and if so, why?

That reminds me of the time my step son was pulling into the driveway one day last Spring.  I was in the garden as he turned into the driveway.  And then, I wasn’t.  Yep, stepped on a rake-just like you see in the movies-and knocked myself into a concussion.  To this very day?  I mind my business around them, try not to get too close.  Sneaky bastards.

This is the season of my content.  And that is precisely what I was thinking as I stood in my garden and thrilled to the Monarchs and hummingbirds.  I was feeling pretty overcome with emotion, gratitude on a level that is hard to put into words.  This was all I had dreamed of and more.  Not just the garden…

And then, all hell broke loose.

I bent down to watch a particular butterfly, caught by her beauty and grace.  It took approximately three seconds for me to realize that a mother effing praying mantis was eating her head.  There were muffled cries, lots of cursing mother nature, and, inevitably?  The hysterical spraying of said praying mantis with dawn dish soap I usually reserve for my roses.

On that note, have a fab Sunday and hope you enjoy~

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Life goes along at warp speed until something stops you dead in your tracks: As was the case Sunday morning, after a full weekend of loving and socializing, the enemy came to take his due-you don’t think he isn’t out there trying to devour everything good in your life? Au contraire, mon amies! But here’s the good news-call out to Jesus, and you are free. He can’t hurt you if you are covered in the full armor of God.

But what about those times when evil does strike? Well, Abba will protect you in ways you couldn’t imagine, and that’s why I’m alive and writing this blog-my Lord and Savior sent His angels, and they protected me from a massive head injury and internal bleeding.

Just out of Dwain’s truck, exhausted from a weekend of frivolity, I could barely pick up my feet. I had promised my husband that I would collect the myriad of dog toys that lay around our yard, at the whim of my golden retriever, who thinks he has to entertain the grasshoppers and blue jays with his cacophony of babies. It’s so sweet, until it isn’t.

I had my purse in one hand, my drink in the other, AND I was carrying six, that’s SIX dog toys to boot. We have concrete stairs, no railing, and the stairs are ridiculously dangerous. It did not escape my mind, while sitting in the ER, that I had traipsed up and down said steps while drunk, high on cocaine, and worse. Never once even tripped. But yesterday was different. My boots caught on Jesse’s blue elephant, and down I went. I had no hands to put out, and I landed on my noggin.

I immediately called for Dwain, who could hear me, but couldn’t find me. Pain so severe I thought I would vomit, I remained perfectly still until my husband arrived on the scene. I am an EMT, and a CNA-I have volunteered in the Emergency Room, with hospice and prison ministries-I have seen it all and maintained my composure. This is the precise reason I am prone to freaking out when I get hurt-I simply know too much.

Head injury? I was out of my mind hysterical. It didn’t help when my husband picked up my head and his eyes bulged out of his-

“My GOD, is it THAT bad?,” I wail. He didn’t answer, he was too busy putting my ample white behind in his truck, grabbing ice and driving like a bat out of hell, towards the ER I had recently walked out of-after calling out the employees no less. As I walked in, I immediately placed my eyes on Dawn, who calmed me as she directed me towards the door. I knew where to go all right. I just didn’t know if they would help me, or hurt me. They had so much power at that moment.

A friend of mine, Katie, was the charge nurse, praise God. She gave me a hug and an ice pack, told me the doctor would soon be in. As Dwain sat on the bed, this came over the PA System:

ATTENTION: SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER. SEPSIS ALERT IN THE ER.

“Fabulous,” I murmured. And then it hit me, we were the only people there, aside from an 83 year old man with a dizzy spell. What the Harry???? They were talking about me for crying out loud! I couldn’t figure this out as the knot on my head was the size of a peach, but the wound wasn’t bad, it bled very little.

Dr. Ammons didn’t waste any time checking me over. I was told it would hurt like hell for a few days, but that I was extremely fortunate as if I had hit one inch below, I could have had serious eye trauma. If my cranium had hit a few inches lower? I could have knocked out my front teeth. But I knew about head trauma, and I was frightened. I kept what I knew to myself, forgetting that my man is a first responder.

And so it was, that I woke this morning with a shiner the size of Texas, and a headache to beat the band.

And because of His love? I’ll be strutting my stuff, sooner than you can say the words accident prone.

He is~

Ladies and gents, may I introduce the man God used to restore my sanity-Mr. Richard Gannon.  Although we’ve never met, I feel a solid closeness to this man as I’ve watched him go from traumatized and triggered to victorious and free.  I love him, adore even, and I find his videos a panacea to those of us who have been around the block a time or two with a toxic, dehumanizing relationship.

I deleted my last writing as, turns out?  That happened to be the one he did read, and three times at that.  His Reader’s Digest version?

You told the world I was a satan worshipper.

No, I am not the only half of this couple who has a vivid imagination, and he does have a knack for missing entire points of conversation.

Post argument I spent my days busy, looking for apartments, and praying/sleeping.  Jesus always combines tragedies for me in a way I can’t quite describe, as if he is killing two birds with one stone.  I discovered a swollen lymph node last evening, which means I either have Lyme or I am down with the ship sick.  Almost every argument we have had?  It coincides with the absolute necessity that I slow down and heal, emotionally and physically-something my nervous energy does not allow, ever.  I also think there is a self-attached stigma to my boudoir, as through depression and illness I’ve done my time there.

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If I feel as if my inner child is being attacked? It’s not going to be pretty, for anyone.

So, today I feel so punk I call it a day, and head right back up to bed after skimming the headline news.  I am drained, dehydrated and dangerously depressed.  I phone my husband, there is a small breakthrough.  Misunderstandings are corrected, words taken back for prosperity.  BUT, there is the reason I was triggered (the full moon, my period and being under the weather only added to my veracity) and that reason had years and years of build up.

I would have thought my temper would have been calmed by now, but interestingly enough?  I find that I am more ferocious, fiery that ever before.  It’s as if the Holy Spirit is fighting with me, or for me, I can’t say.  I can literally feel the Lion’s head rearing, and a force much stronger than me takes over from within.  The result is animalistic, intense and frightening.  Here’s the rub-I don’t get angry like I used to, I’ve been there and find it does nothing for one’s tendency towards migraines.  I know a thing or two, and I consider myself to be a calm and loving force of nature.

Alas, then it happens, I am T R I G G E R E D, a wound from childhood or even years ago will surface, along with a trauma memory-and Sara doesn’t live here anymore.  I have prayed about this phenomena, and it turns out it is healthy for those of us who have been abused, to feel the emotion of anger.  In other words, rage is good.  It means you respect yourself and in my case it also means I am defending the little girl who had no way of defense.

My war is not with my husband.  Nor my monster in law.  My war was with powers and principalities unseen, yes, in the spiritual realms.  However, I will not dine in the presence of mine enemies.

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Jesse and Maybelline pile on the bed. I slowly succumb to the nurturing only Jesus can orchestrate.

Cried out, I did a bible dip for relief.  I say a prayer, and flip to a page to find His wisdom.

The comfort I received was read from Isaiah, a book I read from often.  My kitten snuggled close, kissing every centimeter of my face, tickling, delighting. Isaiah speaks to the reality that as Christians, we will be persecuted.  God will use these trials and heartbreaks to refine us, to strengthen us.  No, we will not be spared sorrow in this life.  Yet we can live this truth with certainty-Jesus will see us through safely, each and every step of the way.

He alone has the victory, and if you are His you will feel this in your very bones.

No one ever said that picking up your cross would be easy.  God assures us that it will be well worth the tears, and that He is carrying us-each and every step of the way.

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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!

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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.

Capiche?

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.