I Need You Now

 

I have a condition, it’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Under control about 95% of the time, it never fails to shock me, to shake my foundation-when I am triggered?  I fall completely apart.  The answer doesn’t lie in what triggered me at any particular moment in time.  No, the answer is letting go and letting God.

But what if you are angry with Abba at that moment in time?  Will He hear you?  Will he even give you an ear?  I used to think that if I pissed my Lord and Savior off, (the unhinged, unabridged, unadulterated meltdown comes with the caveat:

Great, now you’ve done it.  Who’s going to listen to you now?  Who will come to your aid when you call out in dire need?  Who will rock you to sleep with His own special lullaby, one that eases every crevice of your heart, one that puts you to sleep as if an army of angels lay at your feet?

The answer, as you well know, is Jesus.  Abba.  The Son of Man.  Prince of Peace, Alpha and Omega.  There is nothing, nothing on this planet, that can steal God’s love from you.  You are His beholden, His beloved child.  If you can’t cry out to God whilst in heavy duty emotional pain, well then, who?

We are in the middle of a storm, one that is blasting us with up to 65 mph winds.  I am contrary by nature-just tell me that I cannot do something and you can rest assured that is the exact thing I will yearn to do.  Hiking is out, so Fido (my nickname for my golden retriever, Jesse) and I are left to our own devices.  I have sinus issues due to a deviated septum.  Remind me to tell you that story, holy crap on a cracker it’s a good one!  Of course, I ended up with a bloody, broken nose and a lawsuit-the perp?  My best friend and roommate, Lisa Walling.  I digress….back to my angst.

adult alone anxious black and white
 Pexels.com

What drove me to put my head back and scream like a child?  Many things, actually.  It never ceases to amaze me, the strength God has given me for a time such as this:  I am a rock most days, because of His mercy and grace.

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

For the last year and a half, I have fought the good fight-at least when it comes to the Great Awakening.  I have researched subjects such as Child Trafficking, The Deep State Cabal, Satanic Ritual Abuse, the dozens of attempts on President Trump’s life-and as I watched the latest video from The Patriot Hour (love that man, go check him out, tell him I sent you) explaining Nancy Pelosi’s latest attempt at foiling The Donald.  Her mission?  To assassinate the President and Vice President-making her the first female president, and God help me, who wants THAT?

The story goes that she took 93 of her closest friends, family and politicians with her on a commercial flight to Afghanistan, among other destinations.  The unmitigated nerve of that woman-to once again try to put it on our tab-she is known for spending thousands and thousands of tax payer dollars on booze.  She is unfathomably rich, and on a government salary-it makes you wonder.  Just take a look at her district, but fair warning, you may become physically ill, or perhaps fall into a blind rage, as I just did, in my laundry room.

So, as I said, it surprises me that I can research evil incarnate, but my dog barking to go out for the thirteenth time in an hour (he does it for treats) in the midst of an almost-hurricane?  Well, that had me squealing like a hogtied pig.

“Arggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And of course, after screaming at my dog (never, ever have I done that) I broke down into hysterics; ranting and raving, then begging His forgiveness.  I sat down with my pooch and apologized, over and over again.  He kissed my tears away, sat beside me on the couch, as if to say-it’s okay mom, I get it, I really, really do.

I sat down and pondered my throbbing headache, urge to pound sand and other messy, complicated feelings.  Lord, where is this coming from?

And He answered me, and quickly at that.

This Border Wall argument has nothing to do with illegals, or even a border wall…bare with me.  The elite of this world are vampires, who suck the blood out of innocent, traumatized children for adrenochrome.  I have seen evidence of this.  If the country closes its doors to illegal aliens, then where will the Cabal get their blood?  Illegals are easy to target, we have no record of them-when they go missing?  No one but their families know-and how can they prove what happened to their beloved son, daughter, brother, sister, friend?

With acoustic astronomy, scientists are able to observe and listen to the sounds and vibrations of space.  They have found that stars don’t orbit in silence, but rather generate music in the mysterious night sky.  Like humpback whale sounds, the resonance of stars exist at wavelengths or frequencies that may not be heard by the human ears.  Yet, this music, combined with that of the whales and other creatures create a symphony that proclaims the greatness of God.

Now, a question for you.  Who will you turn to when the laughter abets, the tide turns to red, or the evil permeates the air you breathe?

As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

 

 

 

Untouchable

 

We are back from the beach, and safe.  I thank and praise God as I feed my cat community (sixteen fixed and beautiful babies, three are crippled but please don’t tell them that) and comfort my newest adoptee-Miss Maybelline.

Maybel.

I did not ask for these kittens, they asked for me.  Some drop offs, some rescues, and all loved beyond comprehension.  I rush to the kitten, make her purr soft and thick.   The deal was that Dwain would leave the garage door up a foot, and we would place the cat food in said space.

When my husband is going on vacation?  He is in such a mad rush, all besides himself.  Poor guy literally trips over himself in excitement.  I’ll never forget my grandmother’s funeral, and one of the reasons I won’t is because of Dwain’s utter joy at arriving in his first ever hotel room.

“Look, honey!  We have a sitting room!  Wow, look how big that bed is?.” he yelped.  It touched a place in my heart, you know?

light landscape sky sunset
Fall is just around the bend-my favorite time of year. And no, I don’t allow satan to ruin my Halloween. I absolutely refuse!

So, as it turned out?  Dwain left the garage door open alright, but about 4 inches at best.  Meaning that the skinny ones may have had a chance, but our big old farmhouse cats?

I didn’t see this until I jumped out of the truck upon arrival, and noticed my entire cat population was giving me the hairy eyeball.  I mean, I never felt so bad for an animal in my entire life, and I’m the idiot who always feels sorry for animals.  See: crazy cat lady.  Actually, my brother gave me the greatest gift before he moved to LA and broke our collective hearts.

The Crazy Cat Lady action figurine, complete with cats, a litter box and a zuit suit that cracks me up every time I see her.  Wild blond hair, I mean, it’s me, what can I say?

I always learn something new about myself, my faith, when I’m away relaxing.  Problems are solved, a new awareness of my humanness, my weaknesses and strengths.  As we drove home, I was saddened for more than one reason.  As much as I adore my man for booking my first ever house on the beach?  I can’t just do three days.  I have had a love affair with the sea since early childhood-I bloom at the beach.  I need at least a week, before I feel compelled to even think about leaving.

747d83a1676fb350ced49151365cab3f968925a8f477f98263d424614515a17c

And I did so love the house, the people we met along the way.

God has a way of showing his immense love for me in ways I could never had noticed when I was using.  As I strolled through the woods with my pup this morning, I thought about how much I prayed that people will turn to Jesus if they haven’t already-and know that peace and joy that surpasses all understanding.  I almost wept, thinking of the lonely, the homeless, the ostracized.   If you would just give your life over to Abba, there are no words in the English vocabulary I could use to describe the peace that a life with Christ provides.

The house was jaw drop beautiful.  On the bay, with our own private “beach.”  I thought we were on the ocean for the first two days, until a neighbor said to my husband-

“This isn’t the ocean?”  The look on his face so comical I had to change my panty liner.

But Jesus was there in a multitude of ways, blessing the crud out of us.

The rainbow the first night, confirming our faith and our love for one another on our twenty seventh wedding anniversary.

My childhood furniture in one of the bedrooms, a painting of a golden retriever above the fireplace mantel.  The perfect cloudy weather that makes me come alive.  The opportunity to help a sister awaken, and the beautiful child Aria-the granddaughter of our new friends-who absolutely flit like a butterfly, alighting on each new discovery with child like abandon.

She and her eyelashes?  Restored a part of my heart I never, ever thought would heal.

nature red girl model

On the drive home I felt troubled.  What did I learn about myself?  What new revelation about my walk with Jesus?  Was three days insufficient?  Maybe I wouldn’t have that aha moment this time.  It didn’t matter really, but it was there in the back of my mind.

When we left on Thursday I was a triggered nub of nothingness.  Between the drama involved in trying to help a friend who was dying of cancer.  His wife was not happy about me being there, and the situation was toxic for me.  One day into it he offered me a morphine pill, and I took it.

I relapsed.

He was putting me in between he and his wife, complaining about her and manipulating my emotions.  I was enabling him, buying cigarettes and feeding in to his story that his family ignored his presence, wouldn’t buy him groceries, showed him no sympathy whatsoever.  I didn’t just take a drug, I had relapsed into my old codependent ways of thinking.  I was a human punching bag, it seemed.  He was constantly telling me that his wife didn’t like it that I was there.

Hold on, his wife asked me to be there.

I dreaded coming home to this, as if I had no choice.

Last evening I contacted him, and explained the reasons why I simply could not be his hospice “nurse.”  I told him that I didn’t want to come between he and his wife, nor could my CPTSD handle the constant high drama.

As I finished the text, my Maybelline screamed outside.  She had food and water, and I shushed her mouth, with a firm I. will. see. you.  tomorrow.

It wasn’t until this morning that I realized what had happened.

God grew me a backbone.

Turns out, there was only one set of footprints on that beach-and that was because He was carrying me.

[They] Want You Deaf, Dumb and Blind

https://www.bitchute.com/video/naYpYXD0NG7I/

I apologize for not writing more often these days, but the truth of the matter is this:  conservatives are being attacked and censored on every level.   I have spoken of this in previous blogs, but now the Cabal is desperate, unhinged you might say.  They are desperate to keep you brainwashed, terrified that the truth will have a domino effect on evil players, demons if you must know.

Perhaps 10 to 25 percent of you are woke to the truth, maybe not.  I can tell you that my awakening came after years and years of drinking, drugging and messing around with the New Age.  My story is not unique, not by a long stretch.  Sadly, there is a population of vulnerable, impressionable peeps out there-they have been abused their entire life, be it physical, emotional, sexual or circumstantial.  They fly to the “answers” they have searched for their entire lives, and I was one of those victims.

In 2015, I attended a funeral for a young man who happened to be my friend’s one and only son.  We sat in the balcony, and when Sherry walked into the chapel?  Every muscle in my body tightened.  I dug my nails into my husband’s thigh, trying to stifle the scream I felt surfacing-Jason was her only son:  an expert on motorcycles, a truck driver found him in a ditch, on a sunny day.  Sherry received the news while grocery shopping, when a friend called to voice her sympathies.  A part of my heart died that day, and my life took on a frenetic rush to prove that life on this planet had purpose.  

“This can’t be it, Jesus.  Why are we here?  Seems a tad more like hell on earth, not life.”

trees in park
Already suffering from CPTSD, my life became smaller by the day. I had no hope, no courage, no vision.

During the funeral, I was startled to find the woman behind me had placed her hands on my neck.  She began gently massaging my scalp, and I retreated in a not so nice way-as if to say-look lady, I don’t know you and why in the harry are you TOUCHING me?

“Honey, this is Lydia.  I went to high school with her,” my husband whispered.

The very same Lydia who sold gorgeous, handsewn purses made from old wool sweaters?  That Lydia?  I had heard of her wares, and she was quite renown in our sleepy little town of Kleinfeltersville.  Everyone loved Lydia.

As an artist, I am drawn to others in the field.  I envied her, it seemed she had an idyllic life.  But why was she massaging a stranger’s neck?

photo of person holding crystal ball
I’m studying to be a Reiki Master. Why don’t you come by for a free treatment?

Lydia explained that she was studying for her Reiki Master license.  All “treatments” would be free, at least for the coming month.  As a victim of narcissistic abuse, I had plenty of healing to do-was this what I had been looking for?  I jumped at the chance to see her home, let alone receive Reiki (I had no clue what it was, but my mind is always open)  I was not disappointed on my first visit.  Lydia sat down with me, I glanced at her kitchen table and noticed a deck of what I thought to be tarot cards.

Ten years prior, I had been at a superbowl party in which there was a “psychic” in attendance for the party goers.  Hounded by the host to go up and be “read,” I finally caved.  I had attempted to have my palm read years and years ago, in a tiny flat on South Street, in Philadelphia.  She read my sister well, so I was excited (and terrified) of what she would say to me.  She took my palm.  The look on her face said stranger danger, and before she could scream GET OUT, we headed down the steps, taking two, three at a time.  My sister laughed the entire way home, but I was tormented.

Why would she kick me out?  She told me to call her and she would explain, but that she could not be in my presence.  It wasn’t until years later that I realized a very, very important fact:

Practitioners of black magic, fortune telling, Reiki, or witchcraft simply can’t deal with the children of the Most High.  They know who we are, and they don’t mess around with God-even if they worship satan, they know who we are.   It’s as simple as that.

My visit with the super bowl psychic proved disastrous as well.

“I don’t like tarot cards, or having my palm read,” I explained.  I told her of my past experience.

“Oh, I know why she did it, but that was cruel.  You must have been frantic,  Nothing to fear, let’s get started.”

As my heart began to pound out of my chest, she shuffled the cards.

“Pick one.”

Long story short, I picked the death card.

“Within the week, someone will die in your home.”

Well, that made me fly up out of my seat and run to my husband.

Honey, I thought you didn’t believe in psychics, that isn’t going to happen.

Two days later?  My beloved Dalmatian, Chipper, began having a series of strokes.  By the third day we had to call the vet, and he lapsed into a coma in my lap.  I sat there for five hours, legs numb, railing at God.

The poor dog was diagnosed with encephalitis, a brain swelling.  The trauma hit us both in the face, like a bowl of ice cold water.  In my grief, I had more questions than answers.  I will never forget that day, the darkness, the heartache.

After a few Reiki “treatments,” I found myself becoming more depressed by the day.  I would have days that were so dark?  I couldn’t move, get out of bed, even feed the animals.  I tried to reach out to others, but no one had a clue what I was talking about.  Black crows followed me everywhere, and I mean a murder of crows.  Snakes were found in my kitchen, one dead, with his head sticking up as if he were warning:

Something wicked this way comes.

To be continued.

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.

DtGPqtiVAAEWZiM

 

I Need You Now

 

I have a condition, it’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Under control about 95% of the time, it never fails to shock me, to shake my foundation-when I am triggered?  I fall completely apart.  The answer doesn’t lie in what triggered me at any particular moment in time.  No, the answer is letting go and letting God.

But what if you are angry with Abba at that moment in time?  Will He hear you?  Will he even give you an ear?  I used to think that if I pissed my Lord and Savior off, (the unhinged, unabridged, unadulterated meltdown comes with the caveat:

Great, now you’ve done it.  Who’s going to listen to you now?  Who will come to your aid when you call out in dire need?  Who will rock you to sleep with His own special lullaby, one that eases every crevice of your heart, one that puts you to sleep as if an army of angels lay at your feet?

The answer, as you well know, is Jesus.  Abba.  The Son of Man.  Prince of Peace, Alpha and Omega.  There is nothing, nothing on this planet, that can steal God’s love from you.  You are His beholden, His beloved child.  If you can’t cry out to God whilst in heavy duty emotional pain, well then, who?

We are in the middle of a storm, one that is blasting us with up to 65 mph winds.  I am contrary by nature-just tell me that I cannot do something and you can rest assured that is the exact thing I will yearn to do.  Hiking is out, so Fido (my nickname for my golden retriever, Jesse) and I are left to our own devices.  I have sinus issues due to a deviated septum.  Remind me to tell you that story, holy crap on a cracker it’s a good one!  Of course, I ended up with a bloody, broken nose and a lawsuit-the perp?  My best friend and roommate, Lisa Walling.  I digress….back to my angst.

adult alone anxious black and white
 Pexels.com

What drove me to put my head back and scream like a child?  Many things, actually.  It never ceases to amaze me, the strength God has given me for a time such as this:  I am a rock most days, because of His mercy and grace.

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

For the last year and a half, I have fought the good fight-at least when it comes to the Great Awakening.  I have researched subjects such as Child Trafficking, The Deep State Cabal, Satanic Ritual Abuse, the dozens of attempts on President Trump’s life-and as I watched the latest video from The Patriot Hour (love that man, go check him out, tell him I sent you) explaining Nancy Pelosi’s latest attempt at foiling The Donald.  Her mission?  To assassinate the President and Vice President-making her the first female president, and God help me, who wants THAT?

The story goes that she took 93 of her closest friends, family and politicians with her on a commercial flight to Afghanistan, among other destinations.  The unmitigated nerve of that woman-to once again try to put it on our tab-she is known for spending thousands and thousands of tax payer dollars on booze.  She is unfathomably rich, and on a government salary-it makes you wonder.  Just take a look at her district, but fair warning, you may become physically ill, or perhaps fall into a blind rage, as I just did, in my laundry room.

So, as I said, it surprises me that I can research evil incarnate, but my dog barking to go out for the thirteenth time in an hour (he does it for treats) in the midst of an almost-hurricane?  Well, that had me squealing like a hogtied pig.

“Arggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And of course, after screaming at my dog (never, ever have I done that) I broke down into hysterics; ranting and raving, then begging His forgiveness.  I sat down with my pooch and apologized, over and over again.  He kissed my tears away, sat beside me on the couch, as if to say-it’s okay mom, I get it, I really, really do.

I sat down and pondered my throbbing headache, urge to pound sand and other messy, complicated feelings.  Lord, where is this coming from?

And He answered me, and quickly at that.

This Border Wall argument has nothing to do with illegals, or even a border wall…bare with me.  The elite of this world are vampires, who suck the blood out of innocent, traumatized children for adrenochrome.  I have seen evidence of this.  If the country closes its doors to illegal aliens, then where will the Cabal get their blood?  Illegals are easy to target, we have no record of them-when they go missing?  No one but their families know-and how can they prove what happened to their beloved son, daughter, brother, sister, friend?

With acoustic astronomy, scientists are able to observe and listen to the sounds and vibrations of space.  They have found that stars don’t orbit in silence, but rather generate music in the mysterious night sky.  Like humpback whale sounds, the resonance of stars exist at wavelengths or frequencies that may not be heard by the human ears.  Yet, this music, combined with that of the whales and other creatures create a symphony that proclaims the greatness of God.

Now, a question for you.  Who will you turn to when the laughter abets, the tide turns to red, or the evil permeates the air you breathe?

As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

 

 

 

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.

DtGPqtiVAAEWZiM

 

I Need You Now

 

I have a condition, it’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Under control about 95% of the time, it never fails to shock me, to shake my foundation-when I am triggered?  I fall completely apart.  The answer doesn’t lie in what triggered me at any particular moment in time.  No, the answer is letting go and letting God.

But what if you are angry with Abba at that moment in time?  Will He hear you?  Will he even give you an ear?  I used to think that if I pissed my Lord and Savior off, (the unhinged, unabridged, unadulterated meltdown comes with the caveat:

Great, now you’ve done it.  Who’s going to listen to you now?  Who will come to your aid when you call out in dire need?  Who will rock you to sleep with His own special lullaby, one that eases every crevice of your heart, one that puts you to sleep as if an army of angels lay at your feet?

The answer, as you well know, is Jesus.  Abba.  The Son of Man.  Prince of Peace, Alpha and Omega.  There is nothing, nothing on this planet, that can steal God’s love from you.  You are His beholden, His beloved child.  If you can’t cry out to God whilst in heavy duty emotional pain, well then, who?

We are in the middle of a storm, one that is blasting us with up to 65 mph winds.  I am contrary by nature-just tell me that I cannot do something and you can rest assured that is the exact thing I will yearn to do.  Hiking is out, so Fido (my nickname for my golden retriever, Jesse) and I are left to our own devices.  I have sinus issues due to a deviated septum.  Remind me to tell you that story, holy crap on a cracker it’s a good one!  Of course, I ended up with a bloody, broken nose and a lawsuit-the perp?  My best friend and roommate, Lisa Walling.  I digress….back to my angst.

adult alone anxious black and white
 Pexels.com

What drove me to put my head back and scream like a child?  Many things, actually.  It never ceases to amaze me, the strength God has given me for a time such as this:  I am a rock most days, because of His mercy and grace.

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

For the last year and a half, I have fought the good fight-at least when it comes to the Great Awakening.  I have researched subjects such as Child Trafficking, The Deep State Cabal, Satanic Ritual Abuse, the dozens of attempts on President Trump’s life-and as I watched the latest video from The Patriot Hour (love that man, go check him out, tell him I sent you) explaining Nancy Pelosi’s latest attempt at foiling The Donald.  Her mission?  To assassinate the President and Vice President-making her the first female president, and God help me, who wants THAT?

The story goes that she took 93 of her closest friends, family and politicians with her on a commercial flight to Afghanistan, among other destinations.  The unmitigated nerve of that woman-to once again try to put it on our tab-she is known for spending thousands and thousands of tax payer dollars on booze.  She is unfathomably rich, and on a government salary-it makes you wonder.  Just take a look at her district, but fair warning, you may become physically ill, or perhaps fall into a blind rage, as I just did, in my laundry room.

So, as I said, it surprises me that I can research evil incarnate, but my dog barking to go out for the thirteenth time in an hour (he does it for treats) in the midst of an almost-hurricane?  Well, that had me squealing like a hogtied pig.

“Arggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And of course, after screaming at my dog (never, ever have I done that) I broke down into hysterics; ranting and raving, then begging His forgiveness.  I sat down with my pooch and apologized, over and over again.  He kissed my tears away, sat beside me on the couch, as if to say-it’s okay mom, I get it, I really, really do.

I sat down and pondered my throbbing headache, urge to pound sand and other messy, complicated feelings.  Lord, where is this coming from?

And He answered me, and quickly at that.

This Border Wall argument has nothing to do with illegals, or even a border wall…bare with me.  The elite of this world are vampires, who suck the blood out of innocent, traumatized children for adrenochrome.  I have seen evidence of this.  If the country closes its doors to illegal aliens, then where will the Cabal get their blood?  Illegals are easy to target, we have no record of them-when they go missing?  No one but their families know-and how can they prove what happened to their beloved son, daughter, brother, sister, friend?

With acoustic astronomy, scientists are able to observe and listen to the sounds and vibrations of space.  They have found that stars don’t orbit in silence, but rather generate music in the mysterious night sky.  Like humpback whale sounds, the resonance of stars exist at wavelengths or frequencies that may not be heard by the human ears.  Yet, this music, combined with that of the whales and other creatures create a symphony that proclaims the greatness of God.

Now, a question for you.  Who will you turn to when the laughter abets, the tide turns to red, or the evil permeates the air you breathe?

As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.