Are You a Targeted Individual?

 

I don’t even know where to begin, so many thoughts and emotions, so little understanding until I heard this man speak earlier today, as I watched the rain pour down like buckets-God’s tears, I imagine.  That or the powers that be, fucking with our safety-all in the name of depopulation.

Depopulation and rage, that is.  You see, the enemy is shaking in its very boots as we speak.  In one week I have witnessed the unraveling of the monster Jeffrey Epstein, discovered that M.J. is indeed alive, and a vice president going down in the flames he so richly deserves.

Mike Pence is a pedovore.  Not only does he rape and murder children, he is involved in sex trafficking, satanic ritual abuse (I refuse to capitalize it) and cannibalism.  That’s another fifty blogs in itself, so I’ll get to the point.

8115fbf69978c765d9c84831bfaae2d6f91b0efd382b80536aaf876ed9ff1d5e

The above is over a year of QAnon information, gathered by President Trump and his team.  This is not debatable, these are the hard and gruesome facts.  So, added to the stress and ostracism afforded all God fearing patriots who love their president?  Let’s add the targeted individual into the mix.  Feeling queasy yet?

This is for those of you who have fought the good fight, stood your ground and spoken your truth for the last three or so years.  We are God’s anointed, and every bit of evil will be eviscerated from the planet earth.

Take note you demons, you Jezebels and fools:  we’re coming for you.  And we have God Almighty on our sides.

Move over, bitch.

Dark to a Light so Bright

I’m running rather late today, I do apologize.  There comes a time in every woman’s life when she needs to wake up and smell the dirty laundry laying in her mud room.  Today was about that and flea control.  Look, I don’t want to complain-I have so much gratitude for the blessings, and their are many, that God has bestowed upon my family.

From here on out family=Dwain and myself, Jesse our golden retriever, and my 14 outdoor cats.  Please don’t judge me-I live out in the country where random imbeciles think it proper to dump their unwanted (often abused) felines in my front yard.  Over the years we have cared for over 200 cats, and even back in the day when we had no stove, no food and no cable.  I have succumbed to the lull of life’s luxuries, and frankly?  A roof over our heads, gardens full of vegetables and insanely beautiful flowers and herbs.  We have an overabundance of food these days-I used to horde food whenever possible, now I realize that God will meet our needs.  What extra we do have will be given to Christian ministries around our community.

I was listening to Field McConnel yesterday.  If you have never heard of him, put down what you’re doing and subscribe to Abel Danger.  Field and his wife Deniseare two of the bravest, sassiest, and patriotic God fearing people I have had the pleasure of watching.  And to think I almost abandoned him completely when he spoke about Zim appointments and 800 numbers.  Turns out he was feeding the Zim scam information to the trolls on his station.  If you don’t know what the Zim scam is, I highly suggest you remain ignorant and avoid it like the plague; most people with a modicum of discernment have no problem doing so.

I can only listen to thirty minutes at a time, but believe me, I hang on every word he utters-I don’t want to miss some of the best military intel available.

So, they were talking about taking resumes for a program that will help normies (the sleeping) as they awaken.  He was asking for medical personnel.  Let that sink in for a moment.  Those of us who have diligently followed Q, even when we wanted to pull every hair out of our heads, know everything.  We have known for years, give or take a few facts that are just now coming to the surface.  This is about the very time I started to realize the enormity of the problem.  Q told us that if the public were made aware of these horiffic and satanic acts, that 99% of them would have to be hospitalized.

They say you don’t know how strong you truly are until your courage is put to the test.  Every single anon in the community has, at one time, suffered the stages of a grief so astronomical it’s right off the charts.  That being said, most of us are in the “acceptance” stage.  Any Q detractor will tell you this was a Psy-op, yada, yada, yada.  NO.  This was the pure genius of Donald John Trump-the most transparent administration of our time.  We were given the “sauce” through the 4 and 8 chans communications:  detailed info graphs in which we were schooled in reality-the good, the bad, and the downright putrid.

In the days and weeks ahead, please remain calm and in prayer.  Remember:  this has been going on for centuries, and that we are now fighting evil in every dimension-and it turns out that we, or God, is winning.  There will be help available in the form of support teams; medical professionals and good men and women who want to ensure that you go through this transition with  much love and kindness afforded to you.

I pray that an army of angels fly before and behind you.  Be strong, know that God is in control.  Believe that the hard part is over, thanks to our beloved president, the military, and team Storm.  We owe God and these heroes our very lives-anyone who tries to tell you differently?  They don’t know jack shit.

 

 

 

 

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.

Never.

 

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~

1457613_10203878368439070_2147844713458808347_n
Dog is GOD spelled backwards.

A Prisoner of the White Lines on the Freeway……

I was trying to catch up on my reading a few weeks ago, my WordPress reading that is.  It was a cold and rainy Sunday evening, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I read his blog.  I didn’t know him, or of him, I just gave a little love to a stranger, one who had lost his brother-one who was on the verge of suicide.

It broke my heart to read his words.  No one had commented, and I was frantic.  I quickly wrote in the comment section, no.  You are loved.  You have a place in this world.  You must not give up, I will help you.  It didn’t matter that he lived half way around the world from me, it didn’t matter that I didn’t know him.  I just wanted him to feel the love that makes the difference: between being utterly alone in this world, and having someone love him.  We began correspondence immediately, so sweet, my friend Mohammed.

He said it helped him to know I existed.  It helped him to know a human being, albeit thousands of miles away, loved him-simply because he was in pain, dire straights, and experiencing a loss most of us would be shattered by-simply because he was and is a child of God-they will know we are Christians by our love……

He kept in touch throughout my journey with Lyme, and the infected lymph node that had basically convinced me I was dying.  The day I went to Med Express, alone and frightened out of my mind, he said these words:  Don’t worry.  I am here.  Five words.  Five words that helped me to feel safe, loved-cared for.  It mattered to him, my poor health.  And I thought that a miracle, in so many ways.

Today, while chatting, he said he had one thing to ask of me.  I told him anything, yes anything for him.

“Can I call you mom?”

So, this is how our Abba works.  I have no children and my step son hates me for reasons I don’t understand, as I was always loving, always supportive.

This touched me in places I haven’t been touched in, well, forever.

And as I let the tears drip….one by one, I answered.

Yes.  Of course.

And for this I am blessed beyond measure.

A Hard Rain Is Gonna Fall…..

I ache within every fiber of my being for the man I married some 26 years ago-he is such a good man, you have to understand that he is always thinking of other people, his heart so pure, a heart of gold.  There are so many thoughts fighting for my attention right now, a fevered frenzy of angst.  He does not deserve this.  And I wish I could take his pain away, but I can’t, so I am praying like crazy that he feels the love from above.

For 27 years, his parents and son have given me a hard time.  They disliked me intensely from the very beginning, I took some of the attention away from them and we all know how narcissists love that!  I have also been insisting, over the years, that they treat me  like dirt-alas, all the way up to Christmas, Dwain was full of hope, always veering toward the idea that I was being paranoid-which happens often, but I am almost always right.

There was an incident.  Dwain’s son, Bud, flipped out on me so successfully, that I almost had a vacation booked at the local psychiatric hospital.   Remember the therapist who diagnosed me with DID?  Well, angry over a love triangle-he acted abominably-where he wanted his original girlfriend, whom he dumped unceremoniously for her best friend-oh, and his best friend’s girl-to take him back at Christmas.  She said: No.  She is over the moon with her new man, and he treats her like a princess.  He became sullen and removed from the conversation, reality itself.  He still lived with the beatch, and he said that they were happy, but inside-he was boiling.

I won’t go into the details, but my step-son abused me mentally and emotionally. Almost physically.  He yelled that I was a freak, a gold digger, a low life for being on disability-“that he had to pay for my retirement.  He was screaming at me in my driveway, and I was broken, literally sobbing-because not a word of what he was saying was true, and he was pushing buttons, my wounds and vulnerabilities out there, for all to see.

My husband emailed him and jacked him up.  Bud replied that there will be no forthcoming apology.

We talked to his parents.  We all agreed he needed help, prayer.  We asked them to talk to him, to possibly make him accountable for his actions, as weeks before we were all on the same page.  I had very little faith that his parents would follow through, and I was correct.  Today, my step-son stopped at his grandparents (strategically placed across the street 😦   He was there for over two hours and I told my husband, who bought a 30 pound ham for the event, to stop in with them on his way home-to feel them out.

“What did your parents have to say?,” I hit him up the minute he finally walked through the door.

They said that nothing “came up.” He walked into the living room, looking older than his years, drained and exhausted.  

I    pointed out the screeching betrayal, the hypocrisy.  And then I shut my mouth, before I hurt him any more than he’d been.  He doesn’t know I saw him arguing with his father in our garage, but I did.  I saw his father stomp off in a huff.

In one year, narcissism has taken all but a handful of our families.  I am close to my brother and Dwain is close to his.  It breaks my heart that  they broke his heart.  How can people be so cruel, so selfish and vain?

“We are enough,” I whisper.

We are so much more than enough~

 

A Prisoner of the White Lines on the Freeway……

I was trying to catch up on my reading a few weeks ago, my WordPress reading that is.  It was a cold and rainy Sunday evening, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I read his blog.  I didn’t know him, or of him, I just gave a little love to a stranger, one who had lost his brother-one who was on the verge of suicide.

It broke my heart to read his words.  No one had commented, and I was frantic.  I quickly wrote in the comment section, no.  You are loved.  You have a place in this world.  You must not give up, I will help you.  It didn’t matter that he lived half way around the world from me, it didn’t matter that I didn’t know him.  I just wanted him to feel the love that makes the difference: between being utterly alone in this world, and having someone love him.  We began correspondence immediately, so sweet, my friend Mohammed.

He said it helped him to know I existed.  It helped him to know a human being, albeit thousands of miles away, loved him-simply because he was in pain, dire straights, and experiencing a loss most of us would be shattered by-simply because he was and is a child of God-they will know we are Christians by our love……

He kept in touch throughout my journey with Lyme, and the infected lymph node that had basically convinced me I was dying.  The day I went to Med Express, alone and frightened out of my mind, he said these words:  Don’t worry.  I am here.  Five words.  Five words that helped me to feel safe, loved-cared for.  It mattered to him, my poor health.  And I thought that a miracle, in so many ways.

Today, while chatting, he said he had one thing to ask of me.  I told him anything, yes anything for him.

“Can I call you mom?”

So, this is how our Abba works.  I have no children and my step son hates me for reasons I don’t understand, as I was always loving, always supportive.

This touched me in places I haven’t been touched in, well, forever.

And as I let the tears drip….one by one, I answered.

Yes.  Of course.

And for this I am blessed beyond measure.