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.

Hesed Love

There are peaks and valleys in everyone’s lives-moments when we throw our heads back in laughter and joy; and those where we have to dust ourselves off, check for permanent damage and regain a grip on reality.

We had a wonderful weekend. Our Christmas party for our church was held locally, so we finally made it this year. I imagined dimmed lights and a D.J. I was dressed in an original Bob Mackie jacket, fur boots and a gold trimmed dress that takes my breath away-sadly, whilst trying to zip me in the back, Dwain broke the zipper-so I went wearing said dress anyway, safety pinned in the back. Black velvet. Vintage clothing, and luckily I bought it for 50 cents. Imagine my shock when we walk into a room lit up like the sun itself. I am morbidly overdressed, and the track lights are making me anxious. I consider wearing sunglasses, but can’t embarrass my husband like that, and trust me-I’ve tried.

So long as we love we serve, so long as we are loved by others,
I would almost say that we are indispensable; and no man is useless while he has a friend. -Robert Louis Stevenson

We didn’t dance, there was no music. No disco ball.

The food was fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Corn. Warm pineapple compote.

No booze. No hard drugs.

Just us and our belove brothers and sisters in Christ. We laughed until it hurt, shed a few tears of compassion-and loved one another. I won a door prize, which shocked the shat out of me. There was no hangover the next day, no remorse, and no time to waste-we were having good friends over for dinner, I had promised spaghetti and meatballs-and we prayed before they arrived, as they are facing hardship and heartache, in their unique valley of doom. We love them so much, it hurts to see them hurt.

I broke into tears over the parmesan cheese. Somehow, the conversation had turned to the Great Awakening, politics, the hardest stuff…and after carrying the weight of the world upon my shoulders (or so it seemed) I cracked. I began blubbering about the Bush funeral. I sat with my dear friend while she watched videos, articles and memes-convinced that I would hear what I have heard from day one- Fake News!!!!

But here is the profound conclusion I came to last evening:

If another truly loves you, and respects your thought process and ability to think for yourself? Chances are that you will be heard. Heard and loved, despite your words, despite the news. She took it all in, calmed my heart, heard me out.

Psalm 136 speaks of God’s steadfast love, which endures forever. The Hebrew word for this is Hesed love. It is repeated over and over in the Old Testament, and written twenty six times in Psalm 136 alone! While no modern word can fully capture the meaning; we translate it as “loving kindness,” “mercy,” or “loyalty.”

Hesed is a loved based on covenant commitment; love that is loyal and faithful. Even when God’s people sinned, He was faithful in loving them. His love for you will remain steadfast-a reality that provides the foundation, therock on which we place our entire lives.

Oh what a foundation it is!

12657987_10204044013060082_4297828832754058829_o.jpg

Something Wicked This Way Comes

 

I apologize for not being around lately, just down with a bug and down in general-yet there isn’t a day I don’t praise God for the plethora of blessings he bestows on me daily.  A red fox, blooming rose, my golden retriever’s eyes, a budding orchard, pollinating, finally:  great and small he handles my needs.  I don’t believe I have ever sold another human being on Christianity; and I have stopped trying, to be honest.  Yet, I do have the faith that I have encouraged quite a few, in their journey. I will never stop putting out and standing by my faith; I know things.  Call it being a ‘sensitive,” which I do-the Holy Spirit thins the veil for me at times:  slices of hell on earth yet a cornucopia of heaven’s heed.

I will tell you that I in no way am I trying to have my blog taken down again.  I will survive, yes, but did you know that a WordPress executive can deem your content as unacceptable and end it?  I pray this is my paranoia, sadly, I know differently after very similar occurrences on Facebook and Twitter.  So, I am trying to tell you that I won’t stop fighting for what is right and just in this world.  I will do my best to be His warrior, and tell you the one hundred percent truth, to the best of my knowledge, for the entirety of this blog.

22528211_1256016237837917_7353467408273933016_n

Anthony Bourdain.  Interesting.  Used to watch Parts Unknown.  My man and I adored the show, and really, really liked the host.  We hadn’t hooked up with his new show yet, and after what I now know-I won’t be, ever.   Bourdain, Spade, the dude from the fishing show, and the famous DJ before him, Chester Bennington (more than likely the son of John Podesta.)  From boardrooms to Bel Air, the world is full of people (approximately 8, 682) who are third degree masons, Satanists, the Cabal, Illuminati and other secret societies who want to reel in a New World Order, where Satan, the “Light Bearer,” will reign.  Messed up?  Horribly.  Conspiracy?  Absolutely not, on my mother’s grave.

13048103_10204495812874795_7620908517553547939_o

Here’s the deal.  Take a look at Bourdain’s girlfriend, who called out Harvey Weinstein for raping her, at the recent Cannes Film Festival.   I don’t believe Anthony Bourdain  killed himself; but if indeed he did?  That may be because of a series of indictments that are going down as we speak.  Apparently, Keith Reniere, of NXVIIM fame (the pedophilic prostitution ring started by the man himself) was singing like a canary in an effort not to go to prison.  You can check out these things for yourself on YouTube.  I highly recommend James Munder, SGT Report and Tru Reporting if you’re interested in knowing the truth.  Here is a partial list that Tru Reporting put out this morning, which he took from Neon Rebel, who can be found on Gab.

  • Jerry Seinfeld
  • David Letterman
  • Roger Stone
  • Stephen Colbert

The Illuminati isn’t a conspiracy theory.  Evil most certainly does exist, always has-but our God is mightier than the enemy.  And here’s the great news:  the good guys are winning the war.   Spoiler alert:  GOD WINS IN THE END.

Pray for each other, love one another and fight for what you believe is right!

I looked at the earth, and it was empty and formless.  I looked at the heavens and there was no light.  I looked at the mountains and hills, and they trembled and shook.  I looked, and all the people were gone.  All the birds of the sky had flown away.  I looked and the fertile ground had become a wilderness.  The towns lay in ruins, crushed by the Lord’s fierce anger.   Jeremiah 4: 23-26

Trust in the Lord and do good.  Then you will live safely in the land and prosper.  Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you your heart’s desires.  Psalm 37:3-4

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How to Find Peace in the Mayhem

I did not expect to outright LOVE this musical performed last Easter weekend.  I thought they may ruin  it, which just goes to show you-I am often wrong, often misled, often batshit crazy, but we’re going to put all the things wrong with my judgment in a basket and send it up to Yahweh, because only He knows what to do with our imperfections.

You would think we would be better, or even get better at loving the man who hung on the cross to pay for our sins.  What stands in our way?  Worldly possessions?  Hatred?  Enemies?  Our families?  Well, all of these and so much more.  Some think that Jesus won’t be bothered with them because they aren’t perfect!  (WRONG)  Who did Yeshua hang out with while  here on this planet?  He certainly didn’t cling to the righteous, the self serving, or the richest among the people.  He kept the company of prostitutes, murderers, tax collectors and thieves.  And what He did to change their lives for eternity, blew them all out of the water at the time of his resurrection.  They were so bereft, grieving so badly-that they failed to recognize him when he came to give comfort and the Holy Spirit.  But when they did realize their Lord and Savior forgave them for denying the Son of God-they were overcome with relief, overjoyed at their salvation, and their deep love for Him.

It’s been absolute chaos around here for two days.  As Jess and I hiked the rough terrain the other day, I found an angel feather.  The first one in years.  How do I know that it wasn’t just some bird shedding his tail?  Because when I touched it, I felt almost shocked by the electricity, the peace that knows no logic, the pure and unadulterated love of the Kingdom of God.

I have been redeemed!  And no matter how tough the going gets, it is my everlasting prayer that I will stay the often muddied course.  I want to hear those words the day I enter Paradise:

Well done, my good and faithful servant.

Got Jesus?

The Meek Shall Inherit…

I spend so much time here, complaining or ranting….my Irish temper gets the best of me, and hormones combined with my Lyme and depression-I literally pity the fool who messes with me on these rare days.  I’d like to change the direction of the narrative, a shift in thinking for my readers-I am afraid I am giving you the impression of a bitter, mad woman-raging at the world, narcissists and evil doings of those I never suspected would betray me.  That is only a small part of the person I am, and I’d like to balance the scales, if you will.

Firstly, I give God all of the glory when it comes to any achievement, as I know that I could not have achieved it had I not had the strength given.  I know, and have known for years that I have an incredible life.  In my younger years, I had to have everything perfect, OCD and, I think, the need to be in control of everything.  Abuse survivors are known to develop anorexia, because they can control what they eat, and in type A personalities this means everything.  Our lives have dealt us a one two punch, so to speak.  We need to feel safe, we crave solitude, we love our own company.

I live in a quaint, small historical town-Kleinfeltersville, Pennsylvania.  I moved here from the Philadelphia area in 1989-when I first saw this piece of land, I cried.  The pond, well, it sent shivers down my spine as I love any body of water-the living waters call to me.  A big, beautiful red barn, acres of pine trees and the view of the Blue Mountains surrounding us, on clear days.

I am so incredibly thankful for my life, as it is now.  God works the most intricate of tapestries into our story, and often, when we face affliction?  On the other side of that desolation is a better life for you, and he intends to bring us closer-I am quite thankful for my health, and give it my best shot at eating the right foods-no preservatives, GMOs or sugar-but I am thrilled to say that I eat brownies and ice cream.  In bed.  Every night.

In Spring I am deeply involved in our gardens.  One for wildflowers, one for veggies, and a rose garden….actually, I am up to my eye teeth in gardens because my husband hates to mow 8 acres of land.  He has put in food plots for the deer, orchards of pears and apples, and every year he thinks he’s going to give me a new garden, to lessen his tractor time.

Things are better in Spring, aren’t they?  You begin to come out of your cocoon, and back to your relationships and social life..slowly, but with anticipation of the future.  And we all know that those of us who suffer depression don’t think we have a future.

I love cinnamon on the stove, and baby lights adorn much of my living quarters.  I have a primitive home with beams, which are hung with flowers I have dried over the years.  Each arrangement is different, and I also weave antique baskets into the mix, creating a very cozy and life affirming atmosphere.  I am a birdwatcher, and just the sight of a yellow finch and I am getting out my camera.  I love to bake, putter around the house, and paint, every ten years.  I am currently steeling myself for the entire downstairs and walk in closet.

Each day I start out with my beloved Jesse, golden retriever extraordinaire-we have coffee, then set out on new adventures amongst the forests and mountains surrounding us.  He is a therapy dog, and everywhere I go-he goes, for the most part.  He gives me his undivided attention and unmitigated love each and every day.  If I am not well, he won’t leave my bedroom, even to go potty.  I love to make vintage vases, I find in my 100 year old dump at the back of the farm.  I paint the glass, after sterilization and use different techniques.  I then adorn them with old pearls, antique lace and other old things, and give them as gifts to friends.

Having faced some pretty crappy circumstances, I find that each and every time

I go through a deep valley, I am better for it afterward.  Inevitably, the blessings are far more than enough-He knows our needs, and he hears each and every prayer.

The bible says that the MEEK SHALL INHERIT THE EARTH.  That used to frighten me, as I have been anything but meek in my lifetime.  But now I believe that the meek include those who are content with what God has given.  They have been carrying their crosses for eons, yet they never complain.  They give things over to God, especially any kind of retribution.  They have genuine love in their hearts, and want the best for others.  They answer to one man and one man only, Abba.  And they have the faith to move mountains.

I heart my life.  Thank you Jesus.  From the bottom of my heart~