An Unkindness of Ravens

When I was frolicking in the New Age movement (please DON’T) I took notice that a cacophony of ravens followed me-from state to state in fact, and it took me some time to realize that this was not a good thing.  Between a well meaning Reiki Master (please DON’T) led me to Doreen Virtue’s angel cards, spirit guides, and the pineal gland.  

I came to my senses when I went to her immediately after being stalked by a naked, wild haired, crazy man-and she told me I created the scenario, you know, by thinking about it.  Kind of like The Secret, but backwards.  Most of you know I went through absolute hell getting out of such ridiculousness and evil.  The day of my plummet back into Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I phoned my sister.

She never got back to me.

The same thing happened the day I was thrown down on my knees in utter sorrow, for the Holy Spirit had made it clear-I needed to apologize and repent.  I didn’t really have a choice in the matter-on my knees for what seemed like hours, repeating over and over:

I have grieved your heart.

I had never, nor do I hope to ever feel that sadness and despair again.

religious wall art inside building
When my anxieties multiply, your comforting calms me down. -Psalm 94:19

I had been praying recently, about trying to make things “right” with my sibling.  Abba answered that prayer rather quickly, as He reminded me that even though I have forgiven her, it doesn’t change who she is.  How could I possibly move forward without an apology, or even an attempt to  talk things out?

And what would become of my authentic self and the tough road walked to freedom from people who did not have my best interests at heart.  I cleaned the closet of close friendships, and wound up making new friendships.  And although I love my sister, and dearly miss my nieces and nephew?

I broke the chains that bound me.  I can never go back.



Homeward, Homeward

So love the one you hold, and I will be your Gold, a lover of the LIGHT.         – Mumford and Sons

After the dust settles, and you have cried your last tear, who do you turn to?  Where do you go?  What do you see?  I can tell you what I used to see-bleak, dank and dreary darkness.  My CPTSD and depression were so bad, and yet I didn’t understand why, still don’t.  I don’t understand, but mine eyes have seen the glory, praise God.

Becoming a Christian (meaning giving your life to Jesus) does not guarantee happiness in the present-it does, however, guarantee joy in the future.  The peace that surpasses all understanding can be yours, but that is up to you.  The hardest thing I have ever done is to let go and let God.  Frankly, many a time have I ranted and raved; cried like an insolent child, even threw my bible across the kitchen a time or two.

When John the Baptist paved the way for Jesus Christ to enter, stage heaven, he was eventually murdered.  John’s role was to baptize Jesus, a role he deemed himself not worthy of-until God gave him a good talking to.  John ate weird stuff and wore weirder clothing, but he was the perfect man for the job, and Yah knew this.

What am I?  The whipping post, the martyr, the punching bag?  Why is this happening to me?  Don’t you love me Jesus?  Why can’t I see you in this desert place?  Where have you gone, my Lord, my Savior?

I pled this quietly, in my bed, all alone and left behind.  I can’t feel you, please, please don’t forsake me God.Featured Image -- 9552

This is often the case with His children.  The Israelites were given manna from the heavens, protected throughout the wilderness, yet they still thought they had the short end of the stick.  Looking back?  I wouldn’t be stronger, wiser or more faithful had my life been easy.  Don’t get me wrong, I have had and will have enough joy in my lifetime to carry me through.  I’ve had a good life, and prior to being born again?  I had a wild life.

The stories I could tell you.

Oh, that’s right, I have.

In a letter to the Colossians, Paul writes:

And you, that were sometimes alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now hath He reconciled in the body of His flesh through death, to present you holy and unblameable in His sight.

No one is good enough to save himself.

If we want to live in eternity with Christ, we must depend totally on God’s grace.  You were given a choice from birth, and although God wants you to make the right choice, He will not force His hand.

Cry out to Jesus and give Him your life.  I promise you, things will change.  You will be filled with the Holy Spirit, you will learn what love is-from a mighty and unfailing Savior.

How to Pray for Other Christians:

  1.  Be thankful for their faith and changed lives.
  2.   Ask God to help them know His will.
  3.  Ask God to give them spiritual wisdom, and understanding.
  4.   Ask God to help them live to honor and please them.
  5.   Ask God to give them more knowledge of Himself.
  6.   Ask God to give them strength for endurance, and patience.

Ask God to fill them with joy and thankfulness.

And when you are in the depths of despair?

Shout to the Lord a joyful noise!


False Alarm

I am attempting to get my bearings, as what I have just experienced has left me sickened, without hope or desire.  I am shutting down.  I indeed shut down two days ago, when the latest Holiday loomed, as I had recently let my mother in law know that we would not be attending their Thanksgiving festivities.

And, as is the case with all narcissists, my husband has taken my dread of the Winter months to a new low.  A kick below the belt.  He achieved his annihilation of me by telling me that I had ruined his holidays because I am a selfish brat.

I am out of here, and for the life of me I cannot figure out why I kept forgiving, praying he would change, never hurt me again.  And as per usual, there would be promises made, promises broken.  You see, narcs want your attention-when they don’t get it, they think nothing of the getting the wrong kind of attention.  In all actuality, I was having a peaceful and meaningful day.  The hot shower pelts felt so good on my aching body.  I decided to dress up and even put on the dreaded makeup.  I looked forward to going downstairs and watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

I played Pandora, played with my kitten, even a touch of Chanel No. 5.  I got into the word, and asked for forgiveness for my attitude over the last few days. The lack of food over the last twenty four hours had been a fast of sorts, I supposed, resulting in a clarity and spiritual peace I hadn’t felt in months. I was feeling content, and didn’t mind the loneliness.  As I stepped into the living room, my husband stepped out.  I went upstairs, he came down.  I was thinking he needed his space.  I worried that he was feeling guilty, as anyone would after treating another human being like he did.

Jesus, please speak to his heart.  I don’t want him to hurt.

I went to check on him, and that’s when I was accused of ruining his life, his family, our churches and friendships.  His eyes turned black, the vitriol unnerving.

He did feel guilty, but he projected that guilt on to me, his wife of 30 years, during a time when she was incredibly vulnerable, teetering on the edge of admitting herself to Philhaven.




As we argued, I could see it-the Jezebel spirit, alive and well.  I am voiceless, still sick, haven’t had a thing to eat in days.  My blood pressure goes nuclear, along with my rage.  When I am injured, I am eerily capable of pouncing back-with the force of an untamed Lion-yet today, it was different.

Today I fought back with facts.  In the past, the gaslighting-at the hands of some of the most proficient narcissists know to mankind-I would be confused, caught off guard with the projection.  I was depressed, anxious and my PTSD was triggered each and every fucking time.  I would lay in bed for days, punishing myself when I was the one who needed self love and nurture.  My nature is one of love, compassion and fierce loyalty.  I can be irrationally Irish at times, cripplingly sad at others.

Today was not that day.

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As weak and fatigued as I felt, the lion roared.  Armed with facts, my faith and a raging migraine-I spat back better than I got.

 I have no family, not a soul to spend the holidays with.  I get morbidly depressed at this time of year, and you are fully aware that I will not spend one more moment with abusers.  Yet you care for me by completely ignoring me for two days, while I languish in bed with the flu and withdrawals?

You are blaming me for the actions of your son, who almost put me in a psych ward, and I am to fault because?

Did I hold a gun to your parents’ heads, making them neglect and abuse me; treat me like the most insignificant part of their life?  Did I ask your parents to tell rumors to the neighbors, so I could anticipate the shunning that followed?

I am betrayed and forbade to enter the kingdom of peace.

I don’t know what lies ahead, none of us do.  I will not be a victim, that train left the station, I will fight back with all I have in me.  If that means leaving him for an apartment in the country, just me and my dog, well then?

I pray He will grant me the strength.

I pray that Dwain will open his heart, and listen to the God who loves Him.  I pray for better, brighter days ahead~


Trust the Plan, Man

Lordamighty, it has been a trying week.  I have wept so often I have a dehydration migraine going.  And the toxic people in my life aren’t helping; neither is my Irish temper.  After three days of emotional roller coasters and half assed hostessing–I did the unthinkable, had two dinner parties back to back on consecutive days–I am planted firmly on my assets, and plan on absolutely nothing for duration of today.

So, my girlfriend Lynn came to dine on Tuesday.  We have recently reunited after a not so pretty breakup, and I was just as much to blame as she.  I have few regrets in this life, but they all involve my inability to have compassion or patience with people I loved dearly.  It still kicks me in the stomach now and then.

Lynn is my friend that respects me enough to believe me when I tell her what is going on.  She takes it in stride, and I believe it to be her strong and abiding faith in Jesus.  For when we are weak, then are we strong stuff.  She is lovely, and very fragile with health problems.  I worry and pray for her, and I believe she will be healed.  She knows what it is to be trampled on, then shunned by family members.  One of these members happens to be a pastor who tapped her phone and hacked her Facebook account.  He then publicly humiliated her in a sermon, and had the entire church shun his own stepmother.

I got noting on her, for sure.

Found these sweethearts on the side of the road, they didn’t live long-but they lived with purpose and joy.

I didn’t really trust it, at first-the friendship.  I had cared for her mother in Lynne’s home, and she had helped me during a full blown nervous breakdown-she was my angel.  She fought with my husband over allowing me to smoke, stuck up for me in church and social circles, and had the biggest heart I’d ever seen.

Familiarity breeds discontent.

I ran into her at the grocery store, and stopped to chat for a bit.  To be frank, my force field was in full operation.  I had no intentions of trusting her, or hoping it would go further.  I am so much stronger than I was then, the breakdown coming after I decided to go off of my Lexapro-cold turkey-because I believed it made me gain twenty pounds.  Sadly, I almost did the same rodeo show with my Zoloft-I came to my senses after two days.

Time to admit that you have a chemical imbalance, are prone to serious depression and anxiety after a lifetime of abuse, CPTSD.  There, that wasn’t so hard.  Don’t get me wrong, every ridiculous and harrowing ride I have ever taken in this glorious life brought me to the point of now, and praise Jesus!  I am stronger, more resistant.  I speak my truth, and as is my wont, publicly and at volume eleventy hundred.

Alas, over the last few days we have bonded due to extremely trying times, for the both of us.  I lost my best friend to cancer, she her health concerns and loneliness.  It’s not that she doesn’t have people around her, it’s just that they don’t understand her.  Not like I do.

Anyway, I brought up the Reptilian convoy.  Interestingly enough, she didn’t blink an eye ball!  How could this be, my thought cloud read.  She didn’t bat an eye, because she knew a woman who worked at Hershey Medical Center.  This woman is a nurse, and she confided in Lynne that she had cared (meaning on multiple occasions) for people with “claws for hands.”

If you are as repelled and horrified as I am, well, God bless ya.

The following video if from a man I like to call friend.  He is a respected scholar in this field.  He lectures all around the country, is an Irish Catholic like myself, and takes his work very seriously.  I caution you to not rebuke this information, because these are facts, not fiction.

May we as Christians, brothers and sisters in Christ who are privileged to live in such a time as this, where we are witnessing biblical spiritual warfare-and we are winning.  Bigly.  May we all come together, forget the political drudge that is meant to separate us.  For we are much stronger together, and now is the time to love one another.  Love out loud.  Reach out to those around you who are having a hard time with the facts.

Our biggest foe is the Mainstream media.  They are keeping those yet awakened in the dark, after years of brainwashing and demoralizing-they are lying just as they are living.

Future proves past.

Ask Jesus into your heart, ask for discernment from the Holy Spirit.  I do this each and every day, but you don’t have to.  There are no rules.  If you call on the name of Jesus, He will be at your side.  If you draw closer, and believe that He is the one and only Son of God who came in the flesh to sacrifice for our sins so that we may be forgiven?  Whisper, shout, whatever you have to do, I am telling you.  Just twelve years ago I was a hopeless addict, strung out from PTSD, sitting in the ER with a cop at my door.  Suicide watch.  I had zero self esteem, and had been an unknowing victim in my sister’s narcissism.  I was at bottom as bottom can get, my marriage in turmoil, my mind a backlog of grief.

I was terrified of feeling the pain.  Terrified.

Today I am free from the guilt, the shame and the grief.  Because of Him I am stronger.  Because of Him I am an adult, wide awake but fearless.  I trust my Abba.

I trust the plan, man.




I volunteer in a local Emergency Room.  I was scheduled for yesterday afternoon, 12 to 4, and no matter how hard I tried?  I could not muster the enthusiasm to take a shower, let alone go to work.  I picked up the phone several times to call off, but something made me put down that phone, and I am here to say, Praise God I did.

Used to working the morning shift, I had no idea what to expect.  As I approached the double doors a sense of purpose filled my veins, and what I was about to walk into was the most horrific day of my entire nursing career.  Every room full, I immediately went to Room 14, as I heard wails of agony and pain.  The man in the bed was in his nineties, and he was hysterical.  I introduced myself, but he couldn’t hear me, he was too far gone.  

I asked his son and wife what was going on.  His son shook his head, wiped away a tear and told me that this was NOT his father.  He was a good Christian man who was beloved in his community and family.  His dad was strong and stoic; I could tell the family was terrified.

“Oh Jesus, take me now.  I am so sorry.  I am dying.  My legs are on fire.  Please, take care of my wife and children….my grandchildren, OH MY GOD, WHY?  I AM DYING, PLEASE GOD, I DON’T NEED GOLD WALKWAYS, JUST TAKE ME NOW………”

This went on for another twenty minutes.  I spoke to him, loudly and clearly.  What have you seen?  Why are you so frightened?  You aren’t dying, your stats are perfect…..he was white as snow, tormented…..and then I knew.  I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what was wrong. 

“The Diablo.  He is making me curse Jesus, think terrible things about my Lord.  I deserve to die, TAKE ME OH TAKE ME JESUS,”

I closed the curtain.  The nurse administered a sedative.  I asked the family to shush.

“You have no authority here, Satan.  No authority.  Drink the blood of Jesus demon and be gone.  Jesus is here, God is holding you.  Drink the blood of Jesus……”

I was convinced the doctor and nurses would think me insane and fire me as soon as I walked from beyond the curtain.  I waited and continued to pray out loud.  Within moments he calmed down.  Enough to listen to me.

Who is the father of all lies?  Satan is toying with you, but once God has you no one can ever take you away.  Do you understand me?  God loves you, and so does your family.  Listen to me…….”

I retreated for another warm blanket.  As I walked passed the gawking nurses, (and I mean every single one of them had their jaws open) I didn’t make eye contact.  I couldn’t.  I walked back into the room.  He was given another sedative.

There are things that I cannot divulge, but may I say this?

Praise, Glory and Honor to the Most High, and thank you Jesus, for your love and strength.

I walked Bob out to his car with his oh so thankful family.  He was dapper and strong, laughing at our jokes, and he kissed me on the cheek…….

“I don’t know how to thank you,” his son and wife said.  It wasn’t me they owed any gratitude, it was our heavenly father and Yeshua.  But they knew that.

And as I walked into the ER, prepared to be told to leave, the doctor said this:

“You are worth your weight in gold.  You couldn’t pay someone to do what you just did.”

I kept walking, straight to the nearest empty room.  And I got down on my knees and wept.

Praise and Thanksgiving

There are moments in life when God rips you right out of your seat, shakes you, loves on you and plops you right back where you were-often in shock, because you never believed it could be so good, so poetic.  Today I had one of those moments.  My legs are still shaking, and I have to admit I wept-in awe of how much Abba loves us, and will go to great lengths to bring us true joy.

I believe that Jesus has a thing for the underdog, and if I have been anything in this bizarro world, it has been the underdog.  Was he a superhero or something?

adult black pug
Underdogs don’t feel sorry for themselves. They just fight harder at living.

When I decided in my soul that Donald J. Trump was the miracle this country needed?  I knew I would be teased, but never in my wildest dreams did I anticipate the shunning, isolation or downright despair.  As a Deplorable, I lost family and friends-I had to delete my Facebook account, as I knew what was ultimately in store for the conservative population, thank you Mark Fuckenberg.  Thanks so very much.

I had three hundred friends on Facebook.  I kept in touch with friends from high school, acquaintances and family alike on this social media.  I had thousands of pictures, many of them sentimental.  I thought I would just go on and download my pictures.  I had a hard time with my decision, cutting so many people out of my life.  As it turned out, I could not keep my pictures, and that makes me really, really angry.


I don’t think he’s human, and I came to that conclusion the day he was quotes as saying,

I used to be human.”

That and the milky white shade of clone he wears these days.

Anyway, getting to the point.  My sacrifices are muted by those of men and woman much braver than myself.  The president will end up sacrificing over three billion dollars, when all is said and done.  The patriots who are household words and faces?  They have been threatened, intimidated and in many cases-lost their jobs.  The veterans on the streets-they come before anything.  They fought unnecessary and gruesome wars for the satisfaction of the elites of this world.

My past life experiences have taught me not to trust, not to hope for a future or happiness.  I used to think I was undeserving, and after I was born again?  I knew that I didn’t fit in, nor was I a part of this world.  I stopped worrying about views or subscribers of my blog.  I let go, and I let God.

And so it was, while on the QResearch site, that I stumbled upon my own tweet.  I went back to the link, and clicked again.  Same tweet popped up.

It took me a good five minutes to realize that my president posted my response to the Pope on the 8 chan military boards.

I jumped up and down, screaming for my husband.  He just kept saying, ‘What does this mean for you?’  I took the dog in the house to be fed, and before I knew it?  My knees were shaking, I was deeply humbled and filled to the brim with gratitude.  I wept, and then I tweeted my president:

Sir, I am truly humbled.  I can’t thank you enough, you’re my hero.  Godspeed.

You see, if you keep the faith and turn to Jesus-give him the power and control over your life?  If you trudge along, one day at a time and try to heed the voice of the Holy Spirit (Jesus dwelling within you) the rewards will be great.

We can do all things through Christ, who strengthens us.

I will never, ever forget this day.  It is the honor of a lifetime.

I Think it Strange You Never Knew

I took what I wish I could tell you was my last drink in the beginning of October, 2007.  I ended up in the hospital after a suicide attempt, which is another story for another day.  What sobered me up was a combination of my husband’s frailty, my will to live and a gift-the blessing of clarity that comes from Jesus.  I won’t even try to tell you that this road has been easy.  We addicts push down the truth, and push our loved ones away-fact-and until we achieve sobriety?  Well, there will be no healing, no peace, no end to the pain that holds us in bondage.

Months afterwards, I was hiking in two feet of snow with my golden retriever, Dylan.  A shining star and beloved pet, it hurts my heart that I wasn’t with him for the first 5 years of his time on this earth.   I was here, but I wasn’t present, and I have no memory of what could have been the best years of my life, had I not succumbed to the melodic pull of oblivion.

So I am trudging up this hill, and I am overcome with love.  I feel forgiveness surround me.  I cry out to God and confess the absurd backslide I have taken with alcohol and pain medication.  I cry out to Jesus and I tell him to take my life, it isn’t mine to begin with, take it Jesus, mold me Jesus, cry with me and then I’ll get tough, I promise…….

“I have been here with you from the very beginning of time.  I have cried your tears, tasted the salt of your remorse, and I will deliver you from this travesty……”

I think it strange, I never knew….