Slap Me With the Splintered Ruler

 

Good Saturday morning to y’all.  I need you to know that I only have a laptop on the weekends, as mine took a crapola last week.  Of course, my husband offered to take me to Best Buy this weekend, but I am not ready.  Very interesting…a week ago I felt like someone took my nubby-How Will I Ever Exist?  I won’t be able to write, go on Twatter, see the REAL news.  Yet God, in His infinite wisdom, had much greater plans.  Goosebumps….

Let’s just say that I had been way too preoccupied with the web, and with my addictive personality?  I had cut down on pc time, but still carried the computer with me, room to room.  True confession time:  I took it to the bathroom with me.  Don’t judge me, that room is the only room in the house with a door!  Sometimes a girl needs to breathe.  So, while my husband, friends and support network were extremely concerned (I have to say, my brother was probably ready to send for the men in white coats-haha!) Wouldn’t that be special?  My sister tried to have me committed to a facility the night I tried to take my own life-wise, you are saying to yourselves.  I just covered my ears until the social worker on duty promised me there would be no psychiatric institutions.  The very next morning they released me, gave me an Atarax (boy, if I could get my hands on some of those babies-but nah, just the drug addict in me) which allowed me to sleep my entire first day of sobriety away….giving my man time to drain the booze, and anything expensive was given to the neighbors. 

When I awoke that stormy October afternoon, back in 2007?  I went directly for the booze cupboard, searching for something-anything alcoholic-to my surprise I found a jug of white wine.  I sat that baby on the table and we had a talk, until Jesus intervened.

My precious child, when?  When will you say enough?  How much more of this life will you waste?

That did it.  I put the jug back where it belonged and waited it out.  This would be the beginning of years of cravings, big and small.  Relapses.  Drinking upstate without my husband’s knowledge-at the beautiful cabin we are gifted access to from time to time-I knew that was a big bowl of WRONG, yet I couldn’t, or wouldn’t give that once a year libation up-and one day, I thought of all of the miracles that Jesus had performed for me, personal triumphs, freedom from cancer, the very fact that I was alive and breathing spoke volumes to me.

What if I made a covenant with God?  What if in exchange for all He has done, I put away the thought of ever drinking alcohol again, and prayed for Him to give me the strength to do so.

That conversation took place a year ago.

Not.  One.   Craving.

 

I could not give up on the worldwide web, the loss was profound…and if I can tell you anything about myself, I can tell you that I am highly adaptable to almost any situation.  They say it takes two weeks to form a habit, and that is why I said “No thanks,” when Dwain offered to buy me a lap top.  I am perfectly content writing on the weekends, and once I am convinced my internet addiction is tamed?  Only then will I purchase new equipment.

It turns out?  I have a life to live.  I cannot fathom the chunks of time I wasted, sitting in my hidy hole, reading every bit of the Great Awakening news I could find… I went down Rabbit Holes no person in their right mind would want to travel.  And again, once I got the monkey off of my back?  I began getting things done.  Actually working on the farmhouse, baking, cooking, finding me again.

My husband drove out to New Hampshire for a business trip last week.  And so it was, on Monday evening, the house quiet, no music, no television-that I found a picture of me and my father.

“Wow.  I always hated this picture of myself.  Not so much anymore, huh dad?  Umm…it’s/been/hard…”  The words tumbled from my mouth, and before I knew it, I was crying-my body wracked with emotional pain, I sensed something huge was in the air.

Jesus spoke to me again.

Child, it is time to let go of your shame.

Was I hearing Abba correctly?  Why, I didn’t realize I still carried it with me, the deep seated self loathing.  It took some time, but everything came together, as if a giant piece of the puzzle had been found.  I turned the pain into gratitude, as I remembered why I had such shame to begin with.

As a child, I knew shame.  My mother would go for days without speaking to me, and for the life of me, I truly never knew what provoked her ire.  I stopped a moment to think about what deep shame could do to a child in her formative years.  Eventually, I would buy her a card or pick her flowers.  I came across one such card in my mother’s bible just a while back.

Mom, I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, and I love you very much.

Your daughter,

Michele

In school I suffered total shame because of my weight.  The kids were cruel, and the taunting was so persistent?  It took me well into my thirties before I could jog or walk past a group of teens.  No matter that I had lost the weight, I still felt the shame.

In High School, considered a jock and oddball, (Varsity Crew Coxswain) I began to realize that this wasn’t going to resolve itself, but I had no idea where to begin.  At Villanova, my shame came from not having or being enough.  Surrounded by incredibly wealthy and beautiful people, I made up a story about being a Jontue model.  Unfortunately, people not only believed me, they spread the word.  I mean, who doesn’t want to be friends with a famous model, right?  In college I learned to reinvent myself, and the only person I was hurting was me.  Why wasn’t I enough?

After college, my drinking career became legend in some parts of King of Prussia.  I began seeking attention (love) through a series of promiscuous love affairs-and the reputation stuck.  I began doing cocaine as a way to lift my spirits and self esteem; what could possibly go wrong?

The day I found myself on the doorstep of my rented home, due to losing an eight ball of coke.  I had given my brother a birthday party, and while I had my back turned, one of my nearest and dearest friends (I had only invited people we were very close to) had lifted the bag I had hidden, way in the back of my closet, under a stack of love letters.  I had promised Ted, my landlord, that I would sell it all that night.  There are no words to express my horror at finding I had been robbed.  I had no money to give him, and that didn’t sit well, not at all.

Ted sold drugs for the Gambino crime family.

I went on the run.  My room mate and best friend, Mel, beside me-we drove away like bats out of hell, and didn’t look back, not once.

So, with my worsening alcoholism and drug addiction, there were reasons to be ashamed.  And as I sat in my bedroom, weeping between the litter boxes, I asked myself this question:

What is there to be ashamed of now?  Why do you feel unworthy?  Why do you punish yourself for simply existing?

Let me light my lamp, says the tiny star; and never debate whether it will dispel the darkness.

– Rabindranath Tagore

May you shed your shame like the cloak of darkness it has become.

You are special, unique and loved-let your freak flag fly, baby~

 

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.

1267807_4628772416773_914926645_o

“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.

12219571_10203651372244307_1017795936136030929_n

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~

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.

 

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.

9a84adf847d6b2ca0fbe812d16f7272df0e1bb94cc8288dd12d6aa4488b5c9cb

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 Mark Taylor Prophecies

I am having one hell of a time trying to upload this video, or even blog for that matter.  I am going to call out this site as discriminatory towards conservative sites.  I know for a fact that Christian bloggers accounts are being unfollowed and it pisses me off to no end to think I am paying good money to be fucked with.

I truly hope I’m wrong-but let’s just say I’m not:  didn’t work out so well for @Jack or Zuckerberg, or Google.  Class actions suits can bring moola, what did it cost Zucky boy?

Five billion dollars.

I do not have a litigious bone in my body, and if I were to proceed with a complaint the money, if any, allocated to me would go to the Wounded Warriors and Humane Society, respectively.  I know of a female vlogger who was awarded big, big bucks for Facebook censorship.  Just saying.

0f5368a510e147ef6cec1beea303430e47a0be9385cdf76b076e0f0a8991d9f8.png

I had a day, people.  Not a bad day, just an incredibly busy one.  I took the pooch for a hike, filled a wheel barrow full of weeds, planted flowers, did the dishes, made brownies and took said pooch to the groomer.  By three o’clock I was spinning…how can people say they are bored when they retire?  Seriously?  Well, everyone doesn’t live in a century old home that needs, well, everything fixed, painted or planted.  Not complaning, and I couldn’t do it without Jesus- God gives me plenty of down time with sinus infections, head wounds and depression.  I carry my cross daily, but I have to laugh about it.  Perspective is key in the arduous and heart wrenching times ahead.

56862280_10157113410782889_7558884863181324288_n

The video above caught me by surprise today, as I had just recently prayed about Mark Taylor.  There has been so much deception, it truly is hard to trust.   I have to say I had goosebumps five minutes in, and was overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit.  I wept as I stepped into the tub, tears of release-tears for the people who have not yet awakened.  I was lucky, able to take my time and tear the scales from my eyes at my own pace.  Those still under the spell of the MSM?  They will not get to choose.

Please know we are going to be okay.  I truly do think the red pill is going to send millions of people “not walking, but running to God.”  This has all been written in the Bible, and God wants us to prosper, not parish~

As always I welcome any questions or concerns.  I can be reached at dylanlover1@gmail.com.

Fearless

Fear. Gripping, faceless, heart-stopping emotion. Different things frighten different people-but I remember, even as a child-being petrified by everything. I believe the dysfunction stemmed from a childhood in which I was raised by two incredibly anxious parents. As the years went by, I grew more and more fearful. Heights. Highways. Social venues. The straw that broke my back was the stalking I experienced two years ago-I dove into a depression so devastating, I thought for sure I would die of heartache. The world was becoming an increasingly violent place, and I wanted no parts of it, none.

I dove into the Word last Summer. The more I read the scriptures, the deeper my peace became. I began stepping out of my comfort zone: crossed a wooden bridge 800 in the air, over a rolling, rocky river. That was Jesus and to this day, I remember the way in which my terror was transformed within moments. After giving my husband a firm NO WAY, I quietly asked my Abba,

“Give me the strength Father, for Dwain. Let me be brave for my husband.”

Seconds later? I crossed that bridge like a boss, without any trepidation. I walked that rickety death trap twice, as we had to use the bridge to return to our truck, after having visited the other side of the river. One day I will find and share those pictures, as they may inspire hope in fellow Chicken Littles.

I began trusting Jesus for everything. Seemingly overnight, my crippling fear eased into a new normal, of brazen acts and caution, thrown oh so carefully to the wind. I put on the full armor of God. I prayed without ceasing, and failed often and miserably. One day I took notice. I stopped to reflect, to look back and see how incredibly far I’d come-how loved and cared for I had always been. I take it minute by minute, literally. I know the Holy Spirit will lead me to discernment. I force nothing-if it doesn’t feel good, it doesn’t get done.

In days such as these, when courage is required to simply be, it is as simple as calling out His name. I have my bad days, but not for stretches of time, as before. I know what to do, in those darkened hours of grief and angst: he will never desert you, ever.

No matter how hard it is, no matter what the size or magnitude of your pain, reach out to Jesus. He knows each and every hair on your freakishly large head. 🙂