Into His Arms…

I have to start out by telling you I have consumed my happy juice and am a bit crosseyed at this time.  But praise Jesus, for he has given us every herb, plant and fruit bearing tree so that we will live healthy, peaceful lives.  Medicinal.  Used for my CPTSD, it can take me from despair to joy, and that my friends is worth its weight in gold.

I’ve been thinking about what is happening in this world, and obviously, it all but freaks me out.  After watching a video I shouldn’t have, I was overwhelmed-feeling as if the entire three ring circus was on my back.  First sad.  Then frantic.  Then Jesus.

I tell him, Jesus! I am clinging to your robes today, I need you badly!

These are the times when I run, full throttle, all engines on to God.  I picture myself running in to his amazing hug, and hear him say There, there child.

I can’t do this Jesus.

I know too much, why do I know so much and when did you make the decision to take a scaredy cat like this girl, and lead her in the direction of Doom.  Real news.  Investigative reporting.  I have felt the Holy Spirit driving me in this direction, and some days?  Down with the ship I go.

He never pushes, never demands.

I come to the realization that He alone is my Lord and Savior.  He will not leave me nor forsake me.  He is in control.  

I take a long hot shower.  I plug in my tiny white lights strategically placed all over my home, to give comfort.  Put some cinnamon on the stove.  And then He takes me back to who I was before I got clean.  I am profoundly grateful.

I fall into His arms.

Updates, etc.

This is a great source for catching up, I love X22 Report.  The more varied my trusted sources of news, the more likely I will catch something that others have missed.  So, congress showed some big Kahunas today, not?  What the Bloody Mary?  I just told my husband that here, at this moment in time, about to witness the systematic destruction of the Illuminati, the demons, the descendants of Cain-it has all been written in Revelations, Matthew and Luke.  These people are not human-no person with a soul could even fathom these atrocities, committed of free will, against everything the Kingdom of God represents.

God is grieved, and he’s gonna shake up planet earth, pick it up and shake the rodents, demons and filth that has gathered over the years, and I have news:  if you fall into any of these categories?  If you are living a life of deceit and duplicity?  God knows.  Now would be a really good time to turn to Jesus-how can any mere mortal weather the Storm without Him?  I am a living miracle.  I suffer from CPTSD,  and for years I worried myself into an ulcer, heart palpitations and anxiety attacks.  I was folding laundry today, and I wondered at the peace I feel almost continuously.

It took me years and years to finally give myself some credit, and as my self esteem improved-I grew an inch and a half, no lie.  I had been hunched over, so self loathing and  unworthy-but not in God’s eyes.  No!  I have had a past that includes alcoholism and drug addiction.  I took meds from my clients at one point-at the very end, when I was so far down the rabbit hole I wasn’t responsible for my own behavior.

Wrong.  We are all responsible for our behavior.  But there is no fear or condemnation in Jesus, and forgiveness and repentance take place almost seconds after you turn your life over-that peace that surpasses understanding is available to everyone.

Nope.  Doesn’t matter what you think you’ve done-God will grant forgiveness if you are sincere and willing to think anew, or repent.  That aspect comes naturally, and if you have the faith of  a mustard seed?

You can say demon, I rebuke you in the name of Jesus.

And that, my friends, is what God is guiding Donald J. Trump to do-en masse~

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Dog is GOD spelled backwards.

I Cut You Off……..

I have NEVER heard of this band, but I can tell you this-I will be listening from now on.

When it comes to Narcissistic Personality Disorder, I know a few things, and what I know brings me to my knees. The echoes of earlier years, when she and I were close and loving. The survivor’s guilt I feel, which makes no sense as I didn’t get away unscathed-anorexia, bulimia, OCD, CPTSD, alcoholism, depression and crippling anxiety? Yet I worry about the fate of my sister, I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t.

I miss her.  There, I said it.  I cannot fathom going through the rest of my life without her, yet I cannot fathom my life with her.  A lose-lose if there ever was one.  What I would love to do is help her, but she was never one to want my assistance.  I want to tell her that everything will be okay, it’s not your fault, just tell the truth and we as a family will deal with the repercussions.  I want to tell her that God has broad shoulders, and that we can talk it out.  I want to pick up the phone and call her, almost did the other day.

How can I have a relationship with her and remain sound of body and mind?  How could I learn to trust her again?  What will become of my family?

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This is what victims need to come to terms with: whether you lose a lover, a mother or a friend-you are losing the idea of who you thought they were.

And if you offer a hand to help them up and out of the muck and mire? Be prepared to see them walk away, because they don’t think they need help-they don’t think they have done anything wrong. Their brain is misfiring and they will think absolutely nothing of dragging you down with them, so FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT to ensure that you are physically, emotionally and spiritually prepared to go to war.

Then, once you have gone no contact? Enjoy the return of your creativity, self esteem and individuality.

No one can do this for you. Just remember: you are missing the ghost of the person you thought them to be.

Fix Your Eyes on Me

 

I discovered the Satanic Ritual Abuse of children and the war on human trafficking a year ago.  What really bothered me was my lack of an emotional reaction.  Shocked is a nice way of saying batshit crazy with grief and I suppose that’s what I was, shocked.  I did not cry.  I did not cry out to God; I sat there and stoically watched what I could, and avoided things I preferred not to see.

I am driving through the park, and it hits me hard, as if the air had been knocked out of my being.  I weep, so much so that my vision is blurred.  I pull over to look at the morning Heron, who greets us with abandon, each and every day.  I take a good long look at the lake, mountains and countryside.  I ask my Abba, ‘Father, what am I to do?’  My stomach is in knots just speaking of it; to know that children are being kidnapped, sold and trafficked to evil, evil people who sexually assault, torture and sacrifice our young-often for the adrenochrome alone.

I was going to add a video explaining Trump’s war on this despicable evil.  After a moment to think, I thought better of it-as it is Sunday, family day, Jesus day.  I don’t want to bring anyone down, that’s not what this blog is about.  Team Yahweh needs to band together and pray for these sweet babies.  I pray for strength and God’s peace; I pray we catch every single monster guilty of these crimes; I pray-yet I know, that Jesus is with each and every one of them.  How His heart must break, oh sweet mercy.

We can do this.  Just pray when you think of the situation-don’t dwell on it as its’ got to be God’s burden to bare; he doesn’t expect us to become vigilantes in an unholy war-not most of us anyway.  Be aware of your surroundings.  Know your children’s routine, and thoroughly vet everyone who is in daily contact with your children.  I’m not talking teachers, doctors or playmates; I mean babysitters, coaches and tutors…and, sadly, youth pastors as well.

We need to have each other’s back, despite any and all differences in race, politics or religion!  The powers that be want us divided.  We are much, much stronger together.

 

 

Into His Arms…

I have to start out by telling you I have consumed my happy juice and am a bit crosseyed at this time.  But praise Jesus, for he has given us every herb, plant and fruit bearing tree so that we will live healthy, peaceful lives.  Medicinal.  Used for my CPTSD, it can take me from despair to joy, and that my friends is worth its weight in gold.

I’ve been thinking about what is happening in this world, and obviously, it all but freaks me out.  After watching a video I shouldn’t have, I was overwhelmed-feeling as if the entire three ring circus was on my back.  First sad.  Then frantic.  Then Jesus.

I tell him, Jesus! I am clinging to your robes today, I need you badly!

These are the times when I run, full throttle, all engines on to God.  I picture myself running in to his amazing hug, and hear him say There, there child.

I can’t do this Jesus.

I know too much, why do I know so much and when did you make the decision to take a scaredy cat like this girl, and lead her in the direction of Doom.  Real news.  Investigative reporting.  I have felt the Holy Spirit driving me in this direction, and some days?  Down with the ship I go.

He never pushes, never demands.

I come to the realization that He alone is my Lord and Savior.  He will not leave me nor forsake me.  He is in control.  

I take a long hot shower.  I plug in my tiny white lights strategically placed all over my home, to give comfort.  Put some cinnamon on the stove.  And then He takes me back to who I was before I got clean.  I am profoundly grateful.

I fall into His arms.

Jesus, Take the Whole Car

 

Tomorrow will be Easter, and I dread it like the plague.  As I write, snuggled in my bed and nodding off-I can’t help but wonder why I am beleaguered by horrible holidays.  Oh, there’s been a few that were notable, but few and far between.

After my parents passed, the idea of any resemblance to a family dynamic flew directly out of the window.  There were arguments with his mother, as we wanted to see my nieces and nephew when given the opportunity.  Monster would fuss and fight, to the point that I began dreading what fortunate people anticipate with great joy.  It began when I met my husband.  Our first Thanksgiving together, and the first time my mother allowed Dwain in her presence, I remember well.  I woke early to feed the critters, and I was in such a happy tilly I could hardly contain myself.  I sang to the cats, danced in the Fall rain-I simply couldn’t wait to be with family.

The phone rang, for me.  News that my poor mother had fallen and broken her hip, whilst attempting to bake us pies.  In the hospital, she screamed in agony-my heart was filled with pain to see her in that helpless and vulnerable way.

That was the last holiday (with the exception of one Christmas with my daddy after mom went home) I would look forward to, and the last I care to remember.  These days, we go to my in laws-due to my having to live this fresh hell tomorrow, I’ll keep the details to a minimum.

It sucks dogs balls.

Three Easters ago, I was baptized in my current place of worship.  My sister had invited us to Easter-my annual sinus infection was in full gear, and in church I was dunked under ice cold water in an air conditioned building.  I was completely alone.  My husband had a stick up his apple, for some reason.  I remember the Spiritual Director taking me aside:

You’re here alone?  No family whatsoever.  Utterly alone.

Last Easter my step son and we were on the outs.  Dwain asked his mother to invite Bud for the afternoon, so we could visit before noon.  Actually, Dwain had hinted that it would be a good thing if maybe she could skip inviting him altogether.  Days passed, and the holiday loomed overhead.  As we were dressing, my man announced that Brad’s truck was already parked in his parents driveway.

She said nothing whatsoever to Bradley.  We stayed home.

This year, again we do not speak.  He doesn’t understand, even after living in the tragic past, that I don’t have my parents, no close family-not even a friend to spend the day with.  One Thanksgiving I spent the day in a nursing home, visiting a friend, and made no apologies.

I tried going to the Farmer’s market in town, after driving to Urgent Care (pulled a tick off of my chest yesterday) for ten days of Doxy, but after I saw the waiting room?  I left toute suite, not even remotely in the mood to wait at least an hour.

I understand that every one of us has to pick up their cross and follow our glorious savior Jesus.  My problems are one thousand percent insignificant in the grand scheme of things.  Maybe there will be holidays in heaven?

Nah.  He is a just and compassionate deity.

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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.