The Hurdy Gurdy Man

A little birdy told me that this song was written about MK Ultra. Thanks LP.

I have had it. Literally as done as done could be. Triggered by the information coming at me from every angle-but now is not the time to look away. Now is the time to fight evil, with every ounce of my being I deplore these vipers. I want justice and if my discernment is worth a hill of beans? I know it will be delivered by an extremely angry God.

I have nothing left to give, not even to my beloved fur babies. I have reached my quota of ignorant, selfish and deceitful people. Chances are? If you come at me with mocking, hatred or even stupidity?

I will END you.

The truth is reaching critical levels. The repugnant MSM is causing hysteria, the kind that you’d expect at the end of tribulation-not to be confused with the panic one sees in empty toilet paper and hand sanitizer aisles. That’s right-we have no bread on our shelves and they are charging $24 for a regular bag of cat food. The walking Zombies of the Apocalypse of me-me-me are out and about, wearing masks, thinking only of themselves. Wait until they learn the truth.

Awhile back, while on the 8kun channel, I saw a post by Q intimating that 99% of the world would be hospitalized if they knew the truth: only now do I believe it. These people are sick, and they want a way out of taking any responsibility nor ridicule for their crimes against humanity.Who am I kidding, right? I believe that anger is fear unleashed, and while God has taken the spirit of fear away, my anxiety is through the roof. Do you know what it’s like to be this angry, this wounded? I pray not.

You see, my heart bleeds daily-for the underdog, the abused, the bullied. For some time I thought it a sin to be angry or even miffed; I allowed people to perceive my kindness as weakness and I pushed it down, you know-love your enemies.

Spiritual warfare calls for intensity, and pushing down rage is akin to pushing down grief-it will come back up and kill you in the process. Nope, not this girl. I can finally take comfort in the notion that my enemies will be given the full wrath of God. I can no longer afford the pity-or the idiot compassion.

I wrote the following blog last evening, but the “powers that be” shut down my computer, and I didn’t have the strength to fight back.

Now, all bets are off. Just three years ago my life lay in ruins. No family. No friends. I had just relapsed, over the gaslighting dished out by the most evil woman I know. Yet miraculously, I had Jesus and it is because of my beloved Lord and Savior that I survived that period in time. What doesn’t kill you does indeed make you stronger-mess with me and you’ll get burned and badly at that. Fair warning.

The upcoming days will be revealing, revolting and yes, retribution is at hand. To those of you who wish to do harm or delight in the terror and chaos they knowingly create? I have news: the end won’t be for everyone.

Jesus is Coming, Jesus is COMING!”, I found myself screaming at the stranger beside me at the gas pumps at Walmart. He nodded his head, smiled and ran like Pistorius towards the market. I jumped in my jeep.

WHAT. THE. FUCK. JUST. HAPPENED?, read the thought cloud above me.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I cared what he thought. As a matter of fact, for a moment I resented him for not throwing caution to the wind and raising his hands to the heavens. But that’s just me.

Earlier in the morning I had called Lynn, my closest friend, to tell her the exact same thing. As soon as she picked up the phone I yelled my delight: I am full to the brim, overflowing with joy. I feel it, I know it. He’s coming. He’s so close, I’m so happy…..

You get the drift.

I want to be comforting, but I want to be honest. You deserve nothing but the truth after the decades of lies, lawlessness and brainwashing at the hands of the people you trusted. They were playing a game, all the while amassing vast wealth and, tragically, the blood of our children.

Waking up was the most painful experience of my life and I did it alone, but I did it with Jesus. It became so harrowing at one point that I asked for mercy, as if I even broached the subject with anyone? I was silenced, rejected or treated as if I was mentally ill.

It was the fucking pits.

Tomorrow’s blog will be what I wanted today’s to be-one of hope and comfort.

Dark to a light so bright it’ll knock your mother loving socks off.

Wonderwall

Well folks, we’ve made it to Easter yet still we are picking our noses and wondering what will come of us. People in the grocery stores are fist fighting over toilet paper. If you’re not wearing a mask it’s grounds for outright paranoia, yet still the general public is concentrating on COVID19. And that is how the Deep State Cabal wants it to be.

The World Health Organization, the United Nations and Bill Gates have surpassed the MSM in unlikability-their numbers are off, their predictions ridiculous-and then there’s Biff’s vaccinations. Enough to make you batshit crazy and then some.

I want to live in a civilized society, yet I don’t trust the rules. I am what you would call a rebel and have never, ever liked being told what to do. The way I figure it? If I’m minding my own business and not hurting anyone in the process? Fuck. You.

A few weeks ago I was hiking in our nearby state game lands. I know all of the conservation officers as I hike there daily. I also volunteer on the 2,000 acre property, and drive a 30 year old Jeep Wrangler-let’s just say I am well known: most of them call me the Hippy Chic because they read my blog. Just prefacing the story I am about to tell you.

Three years ago I was walking amongst the dense forestry surrounding the lake. It was Summer and the views and fauna were breathtaking. As I passed a thick Holly tree, I heard the leaves rustle. I chalked it up to my angels, but then I felt the hairs go up on the back of my neck. I was walking a long log, placed over the muckiest, grossest swamp you’ve ever seen. I had done this many times, but I still took my time as the last thing I wanted was to face plant in the disgusting muck and mire.

Suddenly I felt the hairs go up on the back of my neck. I turned to see a half naked man, carrying what I thought to be a crossbow. I don’t have to be hit over the head to know when I am being stalked. I gestured to my golden and we ran; to this day I think it a miracle I didn’t fall off of the log. As I neared the boat launch I saw my angels-in the form of conservation officers doing trail checks.

Annual trail checks.

Long story short, he was caught. As I left the parking lot, my PTSD in full swing, I see the red haired man. I pulled up behind him, and mind you I didn’t know he had been caught at the time. Jesus nudged me to get the license plate, and on a straightaway-doing 90 mph-I followed him to a stop sign and retrieved his numbers.

I didn’t say the officers were smart, but they made up for it with their compassion. Hell, they made up for it by saving my life.

They caught him masturbating but allowed him to throw out the evidence. They let him go with a warning, completely forgetting to run his plates. He was never charged, but officer Graham made sure he knew they were watching him. That episode cost me months of therapy, oodles of outbursts and my husband’s last nerve. But hey, praise God for the divine intervention!

Anyway, so back to my story. My dog and I walked, blissfully unaware of the deer hunters that surrounded us. I looked up to see Officer Graham driving towards me. I didn’t much care for the look on his face.

“Michele, now you know darn well you aren’t allowed to walk here during hunting season. What in the HELL are you doing?,” he barked.

I tried to charm him, but let’s face it-I was wearing three layers of clothing and I’m pretty sure there was snot coming from my nose. My hiking outfits are other worldly, to be kind. I once had a friend refuse to walk with me if I wore “those neon purple tights.”

I plead not guilty, but Graham knew better. Like I said, they know me.

I don’t wear a mask because I know the truth. COVID19 is a parasite. The “powers that be” wanted this to be a mass depopulation exercise. China (always ready to help out, those guys) most certainly did aid and abet the deep state in not only patenting the virus? There was foul play involved, but the Trump administration turned it right back on them.

The above video is a special treat for you to share with your friends and family. Even though I am estranged by my family for telling the truth? I emailed this to my brother. This documentary was released yesterday and it’s the best breakdown of Hellywood I have seen. Liz Crokin is a former Mockingbird Media reporter -she has reported for Entertainment Tonight in the past. Years ago they put a hit on her and she went into hiding. Now she works for us, and yes she is a part of the Great Awakening.

We will pull through this, I have no doubt. Don’t feed into the negativity around you-they feed off of our fear. And don’t forget-this is the end of [them], not us.

Who Is Somerset Belenoff?

Who is Yig Wilson? A new friend I would say, and as always it was the Holy Spirit who led me to her video. A few weeks back I was flipping through Twitter and I saw a post giving us a decode on Somerset Belenoff’s name, as we “weren’t to mention her name or we’d be finished, ended, no Twitter account for you!

Now, if you know me well you will know that I hate the word NO. Hate it with a passion. After a blowout with my husband last evening (the old, YOU’RE CRAZY IF YOU BELIEVE________) I had just announced that Harvey Weinstein has a vagina-which was taken from an article on the criminal proceedings from a victim who was raped by the man. I was kidding around, but he didn’t like it and he told me so.

The Great Awakening

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say to a woman who had cut off ties with a brother that was her last connection to family. I knew three years ago that I couldn’t afford him, but I thought he had a heart. As tensions rose with the Impeachment Hoax, so did mon frères temper-and here’s the thing: I wasn’t sending him my blogs, or even videos on the truth-he was attacking me and I had no other choice.

His last words to me: Trump isn’t worth losing family over. God isn’t worth it either.

I railed at the skies and could not, for the life of me, fathom what went so terribly wrong that he would abandon God. A lifetime of abuse has hardened me, and if you attempt to make me feel inadequate or crazy (“seek help, Michele”) then you gots to go, you must. I simply will not tolerate being treated like that-not to mention the fact that I and others around the globe have been praying for he and my sister for years. Years.

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING GOD? WHY AM I SO ALONE IN THIS WORLD?

Ever wonder who this song was written about?

Anyway, back to the most mysterious and frightening woman on the planet-

This song was written about Somerset. As a teen she hung out with the band, and lore has it she has powerful paranormal skills, the kind that led Prince Charles himself to say-“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have on my side during times of trouble. She is the most beautiful and terrifying woman alive.”

Something like that.

I am running late, so I will give you this video to explain-enjoy the show! It’s breathtaking~

So true.

Somerset reminds me of this little diddy my mother repeated to me often as a child-

There once was a girl with a little blonde curl,

right in the middle of her forhead.

And when she was good, she was very, very good-

But when she was bad she was horrid.

Somerset, if you are reading this? In my heart I know that you are an ethereal warrior for the plight of humanity.

And thank you for fixing my Word Press issues. You have my heartfelt gratitude and love.

I’m Not No Limberger

This blog is dedicated to the woman who keeps me grounded, keeps me going and keeps me safely tucked inside her heart. I love you sweet Lynn-may God bless and keep you…

Momma also told me there’s be days like this, but did I listen?

George hates my guts, he really does. What began as a nice comradery has turned ugly, and quick. The owner of the Brickerville House, the cozy little tavern with food to die for, has not taken kindly to my commiserating with his wait staff. Today for instance, I am quite sure he wanted to throat punch me-for hugging a waitress no less. As I moved in for the weekly embrace Miss Shannon delivers, I can see his beady little eyes watching every move I made.

“Take a picture, dude!,” I did not yell, but hey-I wanted to.

As we paid our bill, I went to say goodbye.

“I just got in major trouble for hugging you. The fucking Coronavirus crap. I guess we aren’t supposed to be physical, you know.” She went on to say she didn’t care, but the look on her face begged to differ.

That would be because the man detests me-not a reflection on you, my dear.

“Why does he hate you so much?”

Ah, well, that would be because his waitstaff loves me, and he thinks I slow you down-get in the way.

We collapsed into giggles, just as Mr. Personality hit the bar. I ran as if my hair were afire. I could give a crap, you know me, but the last thing on my mind was getting her fired, to be sure.

On to my grocery store “experience.” My husband was in the store aside of Dutchway, where we do most of our shopping. I used to do food display at this store, as a result I have many friends that are like a family to me. I was discussing the “virus” with Judy, who works in the meat department.

I just love him so much, I mean, thank GOD for President Trump.”

The circle of ladies grew larger, we all agreed, yep, Donald J. Trump is going to save this country, as God ordained him to do so. Knowing my husband was waiting, I left the group and headed towards the corned beef-a rarity around these parts-and St. Patty’s day is coming up…suddenly, my bionic ears took over.

“Better watch what I say around her, she probably has a gun in her pocket.”

As the minions grabbing the last of the toilet paper passed by in a blur, I turned and said:

What did you just say?

She proceeded to yell at warp volume:

“TRUMP IS AN ASSHOLE. HE DOESN’T KNOW SHIT.”

I admit it-I thought about spraying her with the mace I did have in my pocket.. I shook, from the bottom of my feet to the red curls that fell across my forehead. I wanted to hit her in her freakishly large cranium that held very little inside.

I took a step forward, then another. I stared into her eyes. And in a moment of intense rage and disgust?

I took her freaking toilet paper right out of her cart.

She didn’t beg to differ.

Who Is Somerset Belenoff?

Who is Yig Wilson? A new friend I would say, and as always it was the Holy Spirit who led me to her video. A few weeks back I was flipping through Twitter and I saw a post giving us a decode on Somerset Belenoff’s name, as we “weren’t to mention her name or we’d be finished, ended, no Twitter account for you!

Now, if you know me well you will know that I hate the word NO. Hate it with a passion. After a blowout with my husband last evening (the old, YOU’RE CRAZY IF YOU BELIEVE________) I had just announced that Harvey Weinstein has a vagina-which was taken from an article on the criminal proceedings from a victim who was raped by the man. I was kidding around, but he didn’t like it and he told me so.

The Great Awakening

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say to a woman who had cut off ties with a brother that was her last connection to family. I knew three years ago that I couldn’t afford him, but I thought he had a heart. As tensions rose with the Impeachment Hoax, so did mon frères temper-and here’s the thing: I wasn’t sending him my blogs, or even videos on the truth-he was attacking me and I had no other choice.

His last words to me: Trump isn’t worth losing family over. God isn’t worth it either.

I railed at the skies and could not, for the life of me, fathom what went so terribly wrong that he would abandon God. A lifetime of abuse has hardened me, and if you attempt to make me feel inadequate or crazy (“seek help, Michele”) then you gots to go, you must. I simply will not tolerate being treated like that-not to mention the fact that I and others around the globe have been praying for he and my sister for years. Years.

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING GOD? WHY AM I SO ALONE IN THIS WORLD?

Ever wonder who this song was written about?

Anyway, back to the most mysterious and frightening woman on the planet-

This song was written about Somerset. As a teen she hung out with the band, and lore has it she has powerful paranormal skills, the kind that led Prince Charles himself to say-“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have on my side during times of trouble. She is the most beautiful and terrifying woman alive.”

Something like that.

I am running late, so I will give you this video to explain-enjoy the show! It’s breathtaking~

So true.

Somerset reminds me of this little diddy my mother repeated to me often as a child-

There once was a girl with a little blonde curl,

right in the middle of her forhead.

And when she was good, she was very, very good-

But when she was bad she was horrid.

Somerset, if you are reading this? In my heart I know that you are an ethereal warrior for the plight of humanity.

And thank you for fixing my Word Press issues. You have my heartfelt gratitude and love.

There Was a Formula

My freakishly large head is spinning, I am reticent to say this-you know, like when you state out loud that your  marriage is better than it’s ever been, and then you have the worst fight ever; so I’ll just put this out there:  the last few days of my life have been, for lack of a better word-perfect.

My idea of perfection is one of very simple values.  My faith and Jesus come first, and I cling to His robes each and every day.  After that?  The health and emotional welfare of my husband, my dog and myself.  I married a man I am still crushing on, and he is my best friend.  I am sober, my depression is lifting as we head towards Fall. My flower beds are bursting with Zinnias, roses, butterfly bushes and bubble gum pink petunias.  We like our new place of worship, and the pastor is red pilling my husband.  Bliss.   I have a Lord and Savior who loves me, passionately, as He loves you.

There is no fear nor condemnation in Christ.

I was reading out of the book of Proverbs just now

I see a change in the direction of my writing.   The focus  will be the same: Christ-centered, authentic and sassy-it’s the way I roll, so thank you all for reading my musings! It is my constant prayer that they will reach the eyes that bleed for comfort and community. Here goes nothing!

QUOTE OF THE DAY:

The really important things in life can’t be said, only shown.
– Ludwig Wittgenstein

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A while back I wrote about a friend from church who had told me God spoke to her in the early morning hours, about me, about my loneliness-as she was going down her prayer list. Unable to sleep, Lisa grabbed her Holy Bible, and asked the Holy Spirit to guide her in prayer. When she came to my name, the message was loud and clear:

She will have beautiful and meaningful relationships. She went on to try to explain just how much of a blessing this would be, but she cried with me instead.

I think of her and that moment often, even daily. Over the past few years, I have traded my sob story for one of real and true joy and reconciliation. Sadly, some of the changes did not suit a few of the people I had been holding on to; long after I knew that there was little left to grasp.

SCRIPTURE OF THIS GLORIOUS DAY

Kind people do themselves a favor, but cruel people bring trouble on themselves. -Proverbs 11:17 NCV

I quietly walked away from those who knew me as my former self. The friends who knew me to be a people pleasing, bleeding heart doormat-who allowed herself to be treated very poorly. I cannot stress the importance of one of the keys to happiness: you’ve heard this a million, zillion times before, but if you don’t love yourselfit will be impossible to gain the respect and love of others.

Although I have decided to keep the posts about Narcissistic Abuse and Complicated Post Traumatic Stress Disorder to the bare minimum (I have seen professionals who suffered at the hands of a narcissist make careers out of helping other survive the phenomena. While I respect the hell out of these people, I can not, will not allow this family tragedy define who I am. In order to survive, I am putting the past where it belongs. At the moment, the California fires are raging: these are not the usual forest fire-and they are headed oh so steadily towards my brother and his family. I have no way of knowing if they are okay. I have no way of knowing if ANY of my family is okay; so I will let go and let God.

However, there is so much to be said for sticking to your guns-not allowing others to control the narrative. Guard your heart, that’s what the Lord says-and in doing so I have emerged as if a Phoenix rising: finally able to be myself. No peanut gallery comments, such as:

After years of struggling with alcoholism and depression:

“Are you on the right medication? I think you may be Bipolar.”

After hosting mon frère for lunch (last time we spoke, in August)

“Quite sure you suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. Have a great weekend.” Sent via email. And after telling my estranged sister not to bother showing up at my funeral:

“You fucked up Michele. YOU FUCKED UP.” This, by the way, from my “best” friend who almost killed my cat while we were in upstate NY last year on vacation.

SONG OF THE DAY

Oh, Happy National Dog Day, by the by.

My sweet boy.  Jesse Bocephus Happy Hoffmananoff.  Stay 6!

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Sweet You Rock and Sweet You Roll

The Dave Matthews band-last concert I attended and for good reason.  Santana was due to open and they didn’t, I lost our tickets and I caused a near riot with the traffic control.  It wasn’t until my husband screamed “COPS!!!” that I calmed my indignant ass down, and got back in the truck.

You have been with me through my journey to the other side of despair-and I want to give you my humbled thanks and in return, the love you have shown to me.  God asked me to do a 180 on my life.  He asked me to be my authentic self, speak my mind and be bold in my approach to life in general.  I shed every friend, some family and pretty much society as a whole.  I found it increasingly hard to be amongst the sleeping.  I quit exercise class.  My social life was the grocery shopping-I had become my mother.

Until very recently, I felt quite comfortable in my own, awakened cocoon.  I am so keenly grateful for all that God has blesses us with-a beautiful, Norman Rockwellesque town-complete with chapel.  Less than a mile behind us is the Middlecreek Wildlife Preserve-a panacea for the soul on speed.  

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My cup overfloweth. Jesse Bocephus Happy Hoffmananoff

We have each other, Dwain is the biggest gift I have ever been gifted, and as we grow together in Christ?  Our love deepens, he is truly my bestest ever friend.  We have a century old farmhouse that finally feels like home.  I have more years here than I did in my former life in Philadelphia.  But much more than that-the isolation, the sadness and the pruning days have led me to all out rejoice for the time that is now, the time that remains to be seen.  A darkness has lifted, my soul rejoices-I feel lighter, shinier, the most hopeful gal in the room, for sure.

And I have seen the worst of the news to come, have known it for years.  God designed a life for me that enables me the time and resources to write about the greatest time in this nation’s history!  God is separating the wheat from the chaff.  The end will not be for everyone, no-but for those of us who allowed the Holy Spirit to drive us, unflinchingly towards the truth?

Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.                                                                     -Colossians 4:2

Well, we are going to experience Heaven on this earth.

Evil will be eradicated.

So, a few months ago I had prayed for a true friend.  As I had walked away from every toxic relationship, my self esteem improved.  After a water baptism, the Holy Spirit felt more vivid and tangent than ever.  I grew impatient with my faults, tried harder and repented.  Hey, I sin each and every day in thought or deed, but I have a Savior who died for my sins-we all do, all we have to do is call out his name.

Jesus.

I asked for one true friend, He gave me so much more.  Abba always gives me more than I ask for-such a loving father is He.  I am not very good at praying for myself, as I said before, but whenever I do?  Jesus comes through in His timing and His will-but I have never gone with prayer unanswered.

I have a community of family, a support system-a tribe if you will.  I have men and women in my life who love me for me, and what more does one need?  Two of my closest friends have resurfaced in my life; we have all grown in small and grand ways-the reunions are joyful.  We know how very rare a true friend is, and because of that we appreciate each other so much more.

And so, at the end of the day, we are all facing persecution.

You simply cannot go it alone, us humans were designed to love and be loved.

It’s going to be so thrilling, so peaceful-just like Heaven on earth.

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,

AboutQResearch

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,

AboutQResearch