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.

 

You Can’t Handle the Truth!!!

 

If you didn’t unsubscribe from my blog, this doesn’t concern you.  If you want to read a scathing reaction to the absolutely incomprehensible stupidity of some people?  Carry on.

I wrote about the SOTU last evening-and each end every time I write about President Donald J. Trump?  I lose subscribers.  Yep, it really is that obvious.  Before I go off on my tangent, this is what I have to say to the sheeple, Socialists, MS13, Black Lives Matter, MeToo movement and the other .245% of the population who a.  doesn’t want the truth, 2.  thinks this is about politics, and c. has no concern for what our country and its precious people have been subjected to over the last fifty some years.

If you don’t care about Satanic Ritual Abuse, Election Fraud, Comet Ping Pong, human trafficking,  or the plight of our every person living in this country who is subjected to radiation poisoning, chemical trails in our skies, or baby fetus particles in our Pepsi? Step.  The.  Fuck.  Off.  I don’t want you anywhere near my writing-trust me!

There are actual demons walking this earth, some are sitting in GITMO, some are in political positions and ALL of them are subsisting on the blood of our children.  Yep, I said it.  Do your homework on SRA, do your own investigating and by the way?  Get used to it, because those of you who are even remotely interested in the truth?  Well, say goodbye to that as well-you won’t get it from the MSM, and by the looks of the increasing numbers of those alternative media sources who are peddling facts?  You won’t have anywhere to go once we are gone.

What the hell is wrong with America?  Let’s start with the cowards who troll decent, hard working, citizen journalists who only want to provide a service and work their behinds off to support the critical direction of this country.

If you’re in denial about any of the above topics, see ya.  Don’t let the door hit you in the behind.  This is not a game, people.  I am absolutely done with fools who live in their own Private Idaho while the rest of us suffer because of their ignorance.

I make no profit, no money actually-for providing a service that is close to God’s heart.

I won’t sugar coat this-heed my warning.

If you are not with us, bloody hell,  you’re against America.

 

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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.

Exile

When things get too real, when I feel naked in my vulnerability, or when I am overwhelmed with grief too raw-I retreat.  There is always a trigger, and the last one was abandoning ship with my toxic relationships.  I allowed the Holy Spirit to lead the dance, there were days when I was terribly alone-but yet, not lonely.  I dig my own company and that of my husband and canine.  I could spend hours in my garden, shouting for joy and thanking Jesus for his meticulous attention to detail.  My anxiety leads to compulsive cleaning, and I have a Honey-do list for myself-the entire farmhouse needs fresh paint, we are in the process of doing some much needed home improvement.  When I tire from hiking, gardening and anal retentive housecleaning?  I have my writing, my bible, my research.

The word bored does not exist in my vocabulary.  I often tell my husband that I am spending the day watching old movies and snuggling up on the leather sectional-and then we laugh and laugh our fool heads off, because we both know that even when I am down with the flu, I clean.  I know the reasoning behind some of this-spending way too many hours in bed, be it hangovers, depression or serious illness.  My health was improved dramatically by getting sober-yet my emotional health became much, much worse.  I began skin picking, obsessive and compulsive disorder they say.  The point being: it was as if someone had stripped me bare, and I couldn’t run, nor hide.

back view photo of a woman wearing orange and black floral sleeveless jumpsuit standing on seashore
For when I am weak, only then am I strong.

I understand the reasons behind the valleys.  When we are on the edge, in our rawest of moments?  That is where you will find Jesus, and He will build you up so that you fly like the wings of eagles!  I have learned so much about boundaries, friendship and my strong desire to be appreciated for who I am, not who people want me to be.  And on the other side of that coin comes the recognition and respect for others and who they truly are-flaws and all.

So now, it has come to a new spiritual awareness of life:  not a black and white version, or what I perceive life to be.  Life on life’s terms, the kryptonite to every man and woman in recovery.  We didn’t become addicted because we handled life well, or had a childhood that was reasonably functional.  Every single one, myself included, every one of us was running from pain.  Thus the backlog of grief-a term you will hear in the rooms.  God made us so that we can make choices, but that doesn’t mean we will always make the right ones.

No matter how far and fast you run; no matter what your vice-be it food, drugs, booze or porn-you simply can not run from emotional pain.  So you make a choice to live, and baby, that hill is uphill for a mighty long time.

I am here to tell you that it gets really, really, really good.  It is a nail-biting adventure, not for the faint of heart, but when you truly face your demons and give your grief to God?  Oh, life becomes a symphony-and one that you can call your very own.

The exile is over.  I am stronger, wiser and more aware than ever how much I, we, truly need Jesus in our lives.  He will forgive you of anything, that’s why he died on the cross.  When He said

It is finished.

He meant the debt was paid.  Turns out, God will even forgive what we consider unforgivable.  My life has been one of stigma and persecution, simply because I am His!  I never fit in, I never gave in, and it was only because my sweet Jesus was carrying me.  If there is someone you need to forgive, or someone who you need forgiving from?  Your life will be enriched and remember-remember to forgive yourself.

I Look Up

As I hiked the Susquehanna Valley this morning, I thought of and prayed for the plight of the folks who refuse to awaken, my husband included.  I have done what I could, so I’m giving it to God.  What did God say to Elijah?

They will not listen, but tell them anyway.

It’s not a game to me, the Spiritual battle that is playing out all around us-although I do understand the smoking gun…who wants to rock their own world, everything they have ever believed is a lie, right is left, up is down-the mainstream media takes it to a new level of STUPID every single day.

But now the time has come.  Nothing can stop this, it has been written in the stars, the Word, our very beings are filled with truth-you must search for it, and pray for discernment.  I deleted my Facebook account-you have thirty days-and I still have to open it one more time for any last minute messages.  It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, but I know what’s coming:

AI, facial recognition, social status…these three things are not good for one who has bucked the system at every turn.  I don’t go out to play, as aside from my husband?  There is no one to play with.  Not until the whole truth is out will I venture into unknown territory.  I am sick to death of being:

Stared at blankly.

Laughed at.

Told I am out of my mind.

Advised I should stay off the internet.

Disrespected.

There is good and great news on the horizon.  Don’t believe me, do your own research.  John F. Kennedy, Jr. is alive and well.  Mike Pence is a sadistic child rapist and murderer, and his time is coming, you can take these things to the bank.

We need Jesus desperately.  I just read a great article about the current times, and according to Thomas St. Germain?  We are only seeing about 5% of what is really going on around us.  The worst thing you can do is succumb to the darkness, that is exactly what the Cabal wants.

Satan is the father of all lies.

Satanists have another thing coming if they think their “god” loves or even likes them-he is the Great Destroyer.  Don’t get caught up in what the world is doing, we are not a part of this world.

And one last thing:  lukewarm Christians, know-it-alls and even a few people I know are in for an extremely rude awakening.  Don’t shoot the messenger.  Good things are coming.

For the meek shall inherit the earth.

 

F U

 

It is a common fact that people who suffer from depression are, more times than not, the ones who hide behind a great sense of humor.  I fall into this category, and generally I can LOL at the absurdity and pain of it all-today is not that day.

After snapping at a Twitter friend, who was schooling me on the horrors of Sharia Law (I know all about it, and we need to fight against this with every cell in our beings) I apologized.  It was his kind response that led to my unraveling.  What began as a tear or two turned into a tirade, and I haven’t stopped bawling since.  And that is what this blog is about:  when we are strong and heroic for the world; when we are doing our best to lift others up?  Well, we are stomping down our real fears and feelings-and it ain’t good America.  It ain’t good.

Eventually, everything we push down will come right back up to bite us right in the ass.  Don’t believe me?  Here’s a tiny example of what I see each and every day.

This was two years ago, and frankly-it has become much worse.  Sharia Law is taking over the UK, you just don’t know, because you don’t see it on the news.  Women are being beaten, stoned and murdered in the streets.  I won’t go on, because frankly I’m not in the mood to, but I will.  Oh, I will.

Why subject yourself to it, Michele?

Simply put:  I care.  Too much for my own good.

And in my hour of need, I find that there is not one person I can talk to.  People don’t talk anymore, they think if they Twit or text or FB that they are socializing.  Wrong.  Stupid people.  When will we admit that we need one another to get through this thing called life?

And, in the meantime, I will sing the song of my people:  F U leftist libtards.

F.U.

 

 

 

Here’s the Rub…

This blog is killing two birds with one stone. In all of the hustle and bustle, I completely spaced New Music Thursdays! Not important in the grand scheme of things, but hearing Norah Jones through “new ears,” not once-but twice in one weekend initiated a foray into her unique, jazzy, vintage sound.

I had always linked this tune with roads untaken. As much as my addictions took years from my life-my social anxiety has robbed me of much, much more. I find it ironic that getting sober brought on a new list of phobias and nervous ticks – I pick at my skin when anxious, am completely incapable of dealing with any kind of stress, and would rather have a root canal than travel sans Jesse, my golden retriver. I am a germ phobe extraordinaire, a dog hypochondriac and feel uncomfortable (make that extremely uncomfortable) around people I do not know.

1450868_670242899675796_1120820745_n Jesse, to the left. Our beloved Dylan to the right of our son-may He await me at the Rainbow Bridge

What we regret in our lives is never as painful as chances, opportunities not taken. With Social Anxiety, you are forced to cancel plans depending upon just how strong you feel on that particular day. Interestingly enough, my nerves are their worst in the evening, which I attribute to the notion that I am not fully awake for the first four hours after rising. If you want to give me bad news, do so as the sun rises-with any luck? I won’t remember what you said by noon.

I was completely uninhibited as a child-thinking nothing of knocking on doors, asking the neighbors to bake me cookies. I had a sense of myself from very early on, and as a young girl, my father doted on my propensity to not take crap from any person, place or inanimate object. I learned quickly that pleasing dad meant everything. I yearned to make him proud, he was a nurturing father to me, despite many less than ideal situations; such as, my mother-who was pathologically jealous of our closeness. And herein lies the rub:

In your formative years, you have nothing but the reactions of others to mold and guide you in your very human quest to be loved, to fit in. When your own mother dislikes you? Well, let’s just say I was at an extreme disadvantage. Later in life, Satan’s Seed (aka, my sister)did not miss an opportunity to berate, humiliate or gaslight me-I sunk further into depression.

There is hope and I am here to say things are so much better on the other side of recovery from narcissistic abuse. You begin to see the very things the narc disliked about you (pure and total jealousy) are the very same things that others will love. I did my research, and once I felt I knew enough, I dug deep into the Word. A combination of incredible support from my husband and friends, a return to a creativity I thought had left me long before-and a deep faith in Jesus led me out of the muck and mire that is codependency.

I don’t care who you are, your opinion of me has much more to do with you than any other factor. I am no fence sitter-folks either love me or hate me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Be of good cheer, God is in control~