Instant Karma

 

I don’t know about you, but I am sick to death of gloom and doom, evil that cuts you off at your knees, leaves you shaken, breathless.  The enemy is losing, in leaps and bounds, but the news, the mainstream?  They want you frightened and feeling vulnerable, to be honest, at times I don’t know what to believe, but I do believe in QAnon, and let’s just say the concentration seems to be about the blood lines, the Illuminati and their puppets-satanic symbolism and transference runs RAMPANT in every mode of entertainment to be had, the news is enough to make me cry, and never, ever stop.  But I need to stop investigating and start living.  I know more than I should, and by that I mean I wish I knew nothing at all-but then I wouldn’t be me, and I have felt spiritually led through the entire process.

I had a good week, socially.  Lunch with a friend two days in a row!   I actually made my commitments over the last few days, and it feels so, so good.  I also, after 40 years, began eating a small meal at lunch.  I had a hard time pulling it off as of late, I was having dizzy spells and acid gut.  Please………….I deserve it.

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This cracked me up this morning. Enough so that I actually posted on social media! 🙂

Speaking of deserving……how in the harry do these people sleep at night?  Do they hang upside down from trees, waiting for some unsuspecting dope to come along?  Do they NOT KNOW where they are going at the end of the day?   Seriously, what is their thought pattern?  They are blatantly throwing it up in our faces, but know this: they are running scared.  President Trump, with the aid of the United States military, has put a few of their Cabal buddies in GITMO.  Do they not see a common thread?  What did they THINK would happen when Trump began to wage a war, drain the swamp, look at evil so bleak that a group of NYC policemen vomited and wept when looking at evidence.  I hear they are all still receiving therapy.

So, karma is real, man.  I wouldn’t want to be a thug/pedophile/Satanist right now, because the tables are turning.  I am heartbroken and angry, but life is for the living and I have a heavenly father who wants me to thrive, to be genuinely content and at times, euphoric.  I try to have a sense of humor about these happenings, and I find great fun to be had looking into the Q Memes.

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The only, yet most important thing we can do right now is pray.  Pray like your lives depend upon it, He is listening, this I know.  Instant Karma’s gonna get you Bitches, it’s going to knock you right. in. the. face.

 

 

 

Uphill is Over, Folks…

I wrote this blog months ago, and God wanted me to see it today.  I want to tell you how rich the tapestry of my life has been woven, by God.  As in before, He has blessed me beyond measure, after a dark and trying time.

I learned several things this past week.  I am a firm believer in allowing grief to take its course, to nourish and at the same time reign in our deep despair and downward spiral into darkness.  It is always, always Jesus who brings me up from the muck and mire.  He reminds me, at times subtly and at times in your face, you can’t make this stuff up-synchronicities that literally blow my mind.

I also learned that if you spend enough time in the darkness, it will envelop you.  I may have forced my laughter at breakfast this morning-but the folks in the diner knew no better.  Today I forced myself to be amongst the living, and it helped to lighten the load.  It is both a blessing and curse that I can’t speak of the truth in my rural, conservative town.  This recent trigger means I begin at the beginning, once again.  I will isolate, I won’t trust you, and chances are, I may, unintentionally, hurt your feelings.

That’s my biggest thing.  I can’t stomach the idea of purposefully hurting another human being.  I am this way because I know what it’s like to be sensitive, even overly so at times.  I used to hate my nakedness, the vulnerability out there in the big, bad world.  After daddy died?  I have been walking this earth as an orphan, since his passing-my family has fallen apart.  There are days when I feel his presence, and when I do (oh those cherished moments) I think of my other Father in Heaven.  He knew what He was doing when He put me together, in my mother’s womb.   I wouldn’t change me for the world, but it took decades to live in this space.

So, after working in the garden all day, I jumped into the shower-my phone set on Pandora-the Seneibo Sey channel.  What followed were the most uplifting, refreshing and inspirational Christian songs I had ever heard.  Jesus was speaking to me through the music-and per our usual, He took my hand and removed me from the abyss.

And I have nothing to fear, and neither do you.  Remember who you are in Christ-

 

 

I sat on the couch, my mouth ajar. Come again? ‘Scuse me? What the Harry?

How is it possible that seemingly overnight, my blog had 3,000 visitors, from all over the globe? How does one go from 50 views on average, to 2,328? There is no bravado or pride in my shock-quite the contrary, I am floored.

I looked over the last week of my life. The bad fall, trip to the ER, the head injury I am recovering from. Oh, it didn’t end there. After drinking Chia Kombucha, against my better judgment, I had a case of diverticulitis so ugly, I am still, three days later, passing gas. The pain began Saturday morning, in my gut; by Sunday it had travelled to the pit of my arm-leaving me to wonder: did I break a rib in the fall?

Anyhoosers, as I was crying out to Jesus yesterday, I knew. I knew within the fibers of my very being that the joy would indeed come in the morning. I thought back over the trials and triumphs He has brought me through. The common thread is an overabundance of joy after the lesson is learned. I know that He wanted my attention, and perhaps, had I given it to Him earlier, I could have avoided the shiner of a lifetime.

“God is going to bless us, Jesse. Just you wait and see-it’s going to be beautiful,” I sang just the morning before, to a golden retriever who’s soul, I am convinced, is a mate to my own.

We can be blinded by the negativity of the world, or we can live freely, moment by moment, clinging to the Grace of God. I believe there is a season and time for everything. I know that Trump is winning the war on evil-the evidence of SRA is daunting, and I was brutally reminded of God’s wish that I back off from digging any further-after seeing a clip of HRC, in a slasher movie, with Huma Aberdeen and a child. Yes. This is true. This is fact.

I turned my pc off and head down the stairs for God’s word.

He alone can seek vengeance, and vengeance will be His.

Destiny is Calling Me…

I don’t quite know where to begin, and my mind is racing in seven different directions, in seven different languages. 🙂

I am not fond of speaking of my past, in terms of the darker days. I feel a chill in the air, my mood plummets to the pits of hell-but God took me through those fires for a reason, and I know that my story is your story-you, the addict. And by addiction I don’t mean to chocolate: I’m talking drinking to the point of blackouts; stealing medications from clients; multiple “accidents” and that feeling in the pit of your gut-your guilt, coupled with the pain you are self medicating.

Nasty. Putrid. Bleak.

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“How could I possibly clean myself up? What would I do with all of my raw, searing pain? How could I cope?”

Beloveds, listen to the wise old hoot owl-learn from my mistakes. I spent years running from a traumatic childhood, turned to booze and men, then pills and cocaine. I married the man of my dreams (ok, he is seriously on my nerves today-but we made vows and stuff)and when I had life by the balls? I washed it down the kitchen drain; hook, line and sinker. Ten years of my life are missing, literally. Yet, I am just another sinner, clawing my way out of the rat race; running at warp speed to what I had no idea at the time.

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I ran into the boys from Teen Challenge, an amazing program of hope and sobriety for men of all ages and backgrounds, who have failed in all previous attempts to get sober. Every holiday we see them at our local grocery store. I listened to their stories, we laughed-and cried together. I have an innate connection to the broken-I always will. Even without their stand and wares? I could have picked out those men in a heartbeat.

Addicts have a tell, and it takes one to know one. It’s all in the eyes-which speak to me in various ways. Today it was the look of the haunted. I knew immediately that they were just beginning their journey; the look of sheer panic, yes. But something about them stood out, as if they were old souls or friends I hadn’t seen in some time.

“I just got out of prison, was there for two years. Lost my family, home and job. I tried every program out there, and I relapsed every time-it is an absolute miracle that God found me when He did. It’s Jesus that makes all of the difference! I have my family back, ma’am. And you know who the glory goes to, now, don’t ya?”

Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you. -Deuteronomy 31:8

Every day you don’t take a drink is a miracle.

Be miraculous~

If I Were the Devil…

 

I haven’t been writing on the subject of our reality in this day and age:  the fight of GOOD against EVIL, the thinning of the veil, pure evil being brought into the light-simply because the good news comes now, at warp speed.  The Good News meaning a myriad of things, but first and always foremost it is the story of Jesus.  He was born to Joseph and Mary (a virgin) in the little town of Bethlehem.  He grew to fulfill His purpose, which was to sacrifice himself, on that wretched cross, to pay the debt for our sins.  He died, but He rose again-bringing with him the Holy Spirit.  He now sits at the right hand of our Father, in heaven-with all of the Saints and Angels.

People.  If God could save a wretch like me?  He can, and will, save the likes of your sorry butts 🙂 All you need to do is ask Him to come into your life.  If you ask Him to, he will forgive all of your trespasses-and welcome you with open arms.  In my case, as bad as my life had become for so many reasons?  I needed to hit bottom-which ended up being my husband telling the social worker in the emergency room that I had pointed a knife at him, over a bottle of wine.

And then, he burst into tears.

I was accompanied to the bathroom by a police officer, who stood suicide watch on me through the night.  They gave me meds so strong, that I slept through the next day-as my husband emptied the house of any vestiges of booze.  The next few years were the absolute worst/best of my life.  But mostly worst.  I clung to Jesus for dear life!

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I want you to know a few things, such as I was not awake myself until two years ago.  The PTSD and Lyme had taken their toll on my mind and my immune system.  My anxiety and depression left me incapable of dealing with any stress whatsoever.  Ironically, the quest for truth God put me on has added to the trauma.

But yet when I am my weakest, only then am I strong.

This sentiment in this scripture  speaks to me, speaks to my very soul.  I have lived through a life that could not have been lived by the faint of heart.  From the time I was a young, chubby girl yearning to be loved to the anorexic fright of a waif, weighing in at 73 pounds, Jesus has been with me.  Even in my isolation, there was a solace and peace-I was never truly alone.  I desperately needed Him.  A  grueling battle with alcoholism and addiction to opioids left me feeling unworthy, unloved and unwanted.  I can honestly say I despised myself, and drifted away from the church.

This isn’t the story I want to be telling, but one day during the first year of my sobriety, I fell to my knees in eight inches of snow, and cried out to Jesus.  I wept and wept and prayed that He forgive me for my transgressions-it took me awhile to believe it, but he did, and I felt it.  To this day I literally take one moment at a time, one day at a time asking the Holy Spirit to guide my endeavors.  On paper?  God waking me up at such a time as this is objectionably hilarious.  Me?  The girl that screams bloody murder when she mistakes her slippers for a rodent?  The gal who can’t read Dean Kuntz at night, even with her husband right beside her?  The girl who has to light every candle in the house for aromatherapy, just to write a check?

I have really bad issues with money.  Oy vey.

Yes.  Apparently so.  The Great Awakening is about a movement of like minded people,  who begin to realize that the life they had been living was an absolute shit show.  We just didn’t know it at the time.  The treason and evil go deeper than a hundred blogs could cover.  We are at the inception of a mass awakening, as the Trump administration (through QAnon) begins the delicate unraveling of the truth.  The corruption.  The evil on a scale that “would put 99% of America in a hospital.”

I have news for the enemy.

President Trump wants to control the drop of information, so as not to alarm and cause mass hysteria.  I want this blog to be a place where you can come to get the absolute truth, in a loving and humble manner.  All glory goes to God, thousands of people have this information-and we are okay, for the most part.  There are support groups, those who will answer questions, and those that offer the truth in a safe, timely and responsible manner, that honors God and country.

Tomorrow we’ll take it from the beginning,

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“TRUMP ISN’T GOD!!!!!!”

I can tell you for a fact a harder week I have not experienced.  After the stress of waiting for “The Plan” to go down, anticipating the False Flags and suicides-I came to a very large, very frightening bump in the road.

I admit it, I am addicted to Twitter.  I am a digital soldier in the war against tyranny, evil and anything not of God.  I believe in QAnon, I believe in the Great Awakening, and yes-I believe in Donald J.  Trump.

Isaac Kappy committed suicide-TMZ

I don’t want to go into detail, mostly because I am on the upswing today-but that news shook me to the core.  I wept, in bed, for two days.  I am still weeping, just not as much.  I lost myself in the grief.  I knew him, I followed him and I loved his spirit.  I loved the courage it took to come out against Pedophilia in Hollywood-he knew it was a risk, he knew he could die-yet he felt so very strongly for the abused children and victims of Satanic Ritual Abuse.  He risked his career, his livelihood and in the end, the boogey man won.  Or, the Deep State if you would prefer.

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The darkness overwhelmed me.  I couldn’t eat, speak or stay vertical for almost three days.  It was terrifying.  I have to admit that I do have a cold, and I am premenstrual-so that added to my status as a complete emotional wreck.

My husband and I had argued the day of Isaac’s death.  I was hurt because he didn’t take my grief or my friend seriously.  He was actually angry with me-but we didn’t get down to that until today.  He is afraid I will meet a Prince Charming whilst surfing the worldwide web.  Bless his heart.  So today, he came home from work and began discussing a chat he had with his coworkers.  I interrupted, started to talk of POTUS (Dwain is a die hard conservative and stands by him one thousand percent)

“Trump isn’t GOD!!!!!!!!!!!”  he screams.

Seriously?  I truly think he has his panties in a bunch because I am as you say, in the know.  He hates it that I know more than he does, yet he will not allow me to tell him the truth, as we anons know it to be.  God bless him, I often wish I hadn’t gone down this roller coaster -rabbit hole.  But God kept telling me to search for the truth.  And after a lifetime of emotional abuse at the hands of family, therapists and “friends.” I suffer from PTSD.  I can only say that those of us with this disorder are not ones to fancy being snuck up on-ironically, I have found an inner strength, through Jesus Christ, that surprises me.

I can tell you a few things-Trump is not God, but our Lord has ordained him for such a time as this.  The Plan goes back years, before JFK, JR. faked his own death, to avoid being “arkansided” by his running mate for New York Senator-Ms. Hellary Clinton herself.

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In closing, I would like to give a shout out to Mr. Tom Hanks, your Twitter feed is now being investigated by the Feds.  You are a sick and evil, twisted little man.

Thank you Peacock-it helps to have friends in high places~

 

Such A Time As This

I’d like to tell you that I am hard at work, putting together a new and improved blog-but I would be lying.  I simply don’t have a square to spare.  I would like to have a few categories for each blog-Faith, WWG1WGA, Music, Cooking and Gardening and Mental Health. 2ATryTakeThem I would like to focus on that in the near distant future.

Let’s start with the real news.  What we are seeing is the spiritual battle that takes place in Ephesians 6.  It is my opinion that we are not in the end times, simply for the question-Why would God MAGA, only to squash it under his thumb right away? But only Abba knows the day and the hour.  In the video, Michael says we are to reach out and comfort one another-but so far my kind of comfort has fallen on deaf, dumb and blind ears.

Put on the full Armor of God

As it happens, Ephesians 6 has this very information.  There is nothing to fear with Jesus, and frankly, no one knows how it’s going down, this roping in of the black hat posse.  I know that the marines will be out in full force, I know that we can trust our president, and I know God is on our side.  What we are preparing for is possible civil unrest.  The people who are going down, in a very big way?  They have never cared for or about you for one millisecond.  These maggots are the descendants of Cain, I have research to prove it.  We, those of us who walk with Christ (it’s free!  Just call out his name, and ask him to take your life into His loving hands) are descendants of Abel.  Very confusing, but I will link this for you below.

This is the thing, we are all, every one of us, engaged in a spiritual battle, subject to satanic attacks-because as Christians, we are no longer on the side of the diablo.  

Paul tells us in Ephesians that we are to put on the full armor of Jesus, which means:

The belt of truth.

The body armor of righteousness.

Peace that comes from knowing the good news, your shoes.

The shield of FAITH.

The helmet of SALVATION.

Your sword?  The word of God.

What our president wants us to do is this:  protect ourselves and our families; see something, say something.  Very dangerous people are being surrounded by The Storm, and nothing, nothing can stop what’s coming.

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I wasn’t a fan of Mark Taylor at first, and I attribute that to my PTSD.  I literally don’t trust anyone.  Ok, Jesus and my husband.  The dog.  I’ve learned the incredibly hard way not to take people at face value-let’s just say I was a tad naïve.  But I used to be many things that I no longer fancy, and I do my investigating-trust me.  What I do know is that many people we trust aren’t worthy of it, and those we don’t-they are the real deal.  That’s how life works.

Don’t let anyone take your guns, your children or your civil rights.  Locked and loaded, baby.

Fight the growing censorship against conservatives, who are trying to help the world awaken from the nightmare our brainwashed minds have endured.

Just stay alert, and don’t forget to dance.

 

The Living Waters

May is Mental Health Awareness month, and in that spirit I dedicate this blog to all who are stigmatized, pigeon holed, persecuted or worse-because of circumstances often beyond their control.  You are my heroes: it is through extreme adversity and gut wrenching pain that you face each and every day.  It is my prayer that you are choosing healthy coping mechanisms and that Jesus is your Lord and Savior.  If not, I encourage you to follow my blog-not for me, but for you.  I’m not in this for a huge following; I am here to be the voice of comfort, reason and truth that I believe God has called me to be-a beacon in a time of darkness.

Please understand that I have never taken credit for my writing, whether you love it or hate it, the content comes from the Holy Spirit:  he speaks to me in different ways throughout the day.  By evening, I am writing-my version of what I believe to be Spirit-led writing.  I am what they call a sensitive-Abba has given me the gift of spiritual understanding.  Only in the past three years have I been aware of this gift from above-but I can say that I have struggled through tremendous adversity (but always under His loving protection) I believe that having lived a tortured life has led me to a greater compassion and love for others.  Sadly, my CPTSD makes it incredibly difficult for me to trust others with my heart and soul.

So, I don’t.

I have been texting my brother as of late.  We discuss political and social issues, and today I sent him a video from Abel Danger-explaining the spiritual warfare and global reset.  He has had trouble believing much of what I have written on the subject of our amazing president Trump, the Plan, or the Great Awakening.

So, my sister was one of the narcs who stopped just short of killing me.  I haven’t spoken to her in years, although I do pray for her.  One thing I’ve learned over and over through my many perpetrators is this:  if you don’t go no contact?  You are setting yourself up for greater pain, dysfunction and even severe health complications due to the constant stress of gaslighting, triangulation, projection and abject cruelty.  Even a short conversation could lead to a triggering of emotional flashbacks so severe, that it takes me weeks to come back to myself.

So, my brother lives in LA.  My sister lives in PA.

My husband called me in to see my niece Esme’s Instagram.  I looked down to see my brother on a scooter, but the voice in the video?  It haunted me.  Something is wrong with that tone, the insincerity-a false sense of excitement.

“There you go, Craig, you’re doing it!”  I insisted to my husband that it was my sister’s voice.  He balked.  He played it again and heard my brother in law’s voice at the end of the clip.  I took off into the kitchen, adrenaline pumping, anxiety rising.  I opened the frig door, and stared blankly into space, closed it, opened it again.

A few moments of despair, and it was over.

“Life is too damn good,” I said to myself.

Thus the end of the trauma.

Thank you, Jesus-for the head’s up.  And more importantly?  For walking every step of my  dark and lonely journey back to peace.

Come to the Living Waters, and drink from the cup of Life.