You Can’t Handle the Truth!!!

 

If you didn’t unsubscribe from my blog, this doesn’t concern you.  If you want to read a scathing reaction to the absolutely incomprehensible stupidity of some people?  Carry on.

I wrote about the SOTU last evening-and each end every time I write about President Donald J. Trump?  I lose subscribers.  Yep, it really is that obvious.  Before I go off on my tangent, this is what I have to say to the sheeple, Socialists, MS13, Black Lives Matter, MeToo movement and the other .245% of the population who a.  doesn’t want the truth, 2.  thinks this is about politics, and c. has no concern for what our country and its precious people have been subjected to over the last fifty some years.

If you don’t care about Satanic Ritual Abuse, Election Fraud, Comet Ping Pong, human trafficking,  or the plight of our every person living in this country who is subjected to radiation poisoning, chemical trails in our skies, or baby fetus particles in our Pepsi? Step.  The.  Fuck.  Off.  I don’t want you anywhere near my writing-trust me!

There are actual demons walking this earth, some are sitting in GITMO, some are in political positions and ALL of them are subsisting on the blood of our children.  Yep, I said it.  Do your homework on SRA, do your own investigating and by the way?  Get used to it, because those of you who are even remotely interested in the truth?  Well, say goodbye to that as well-you won’t get it from the MSM, and by the looks of the increasing numbers of those alternative media sources who are peddling facts?  You won’t have anywhere to go once we are gone.

What the hell is wrong with America?  Let’s start with the cowards who troll decent, hard working, citizen journalists who only want to provide a service and work their behinds off to support the critical direction of this country.

If you’re in denial about any of the above topics, see ya.  Don’t let the door hit you in the behind.  This is not a game, people.  I am absolutely done with fools who live in their own Private Idaho while the rest of us suffer because of their ignorance.

I make no profit, no money actually-for providing a service that is close to God’s heart.

I won’t sugar coat this-heed my warning.

If you are not with us, bloody hell,  you’re against America.

 

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Trading Places

If I could, I’d make a deal with God, so we could trade places.                                                                                                                            -Kate Bush

I just now picked up on the irony.  The thumbnail on this video is a girl with butterfly wings.  MK Ultra and the butterflies-God never ceases to surprise me.  And it was in utter shock that I heard myself unravel earlier today, on the phone with my friend Kat.

My heart was breaking in half for the people who will have their world turned upside down in a matter of days.  My husband, my beloved tribe, and others I cannot claim to be my own.  How will it go over?  Will there be panic?  Will there be martial law?  Will my family be okay?  When will the healing begin…blah, blah, blah.  Where was my faith?  I truly lost my shit, and that hasn’t happened in a great while.

Every word she spoke was a panacea to my soul.  I went from weeping to breathless laughter in a matter of moments.

Wait until they find out about the royals.  Wait until they see their lizard tongues, then our husbands will believe us!”

Good times.

This is a shout out to those of you in my intimate circle, my brothers and sisters in Christ, what little is left of my family-if I could trade places with you, I would.  I take zero pleasure in awakening before you were to do so, believe me.  This isn’t about me, it isn’t about you.  It’s about the children, the charades, the evil on mind blowing levels.  Everything dark and hidden will be brought out into the Light.  And by the Light I don’t mean the New Age, ascended master version-I mean the risen Christ in all His glory.  He is about to eradicate all evil from this planet.

It’s about good versus evil, as simple as that.

You will hear bad, very bad things about the so called “elite” of this world.  Household names, famous names.  There will be so much news, coming at once.  Even though I thought I joined the Christian QAnon truther community for this very reason-an awakened world on the same spiritual plane, moving together as one?  I am not relishing the coming weeks and months of disclosure.  People will be thrown into the abyss of unbelief, for sure.

Hold onto the people you love and hold tightly.

There is absolutely nothing to panic about, God has this.

Donald J. Trump and his QAnon team have planned this for twenty years.

Trust God, trust POTUS, trust Barr.

The very best is yet to come-at least for some of us.

 

 

Dark to Light

Every trial, every heartbreak and each and every tear I have shed has made me the strong person I am today.  Great Awakening or not, everything in my life makes so much sense-an absolute victory.  It is my prayer that each and every one of you will turn to Christ.  There you will find all truth, peace and power over the enemy.

My best friend Jason came out to the farmette for dinner last night.  Due to circumstances beyond our control, we hadn’t seen each other in over a year.  Jason is a Pranswer (answered prayer) and the moment I met him I knew we were fated to suffer the journey together.  From the Jeep Wrangler to the gift of prose, we had everything in common.  He is an Empath, an Intuit, a Sensitive.  He wants nothing less than to change the world, or at least be a part of the momentum.  

As he walked into my kitchen, nothing seemed amiss.  As a matter of fact, he looked amazing.  It wasn’t until we sat down to talk that I saw the darkness, a black pool of nothingness-his pupils.

Melania Trump is a fucking whore,” he blurted.

My husband looked at me, then at him, then quickly back to me.  And then it happened, he did the unthinkable-

“What good, what good did that tacky glutton do for this country?”

His eyes were full of spite, for lack of a better term.

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I thought my husband was going to leave the room.  His head was on a swivel, the smile wiped off of his mug.  He wasn’t necessarily upset with Jason.  He knew his wife and he knew her Irish temper but most of all he knew I adore my president.

It occurred to me that Jason had been out in the big bad world for a mite too long.  His jaded, saddened heart was proof in the pudding.

There was no argument.  We sat down in the kitchen and I asked him, what do you want to know?  Presuming he wanted to ask anything, I sensed he was coming up for air.

We talked well in to the evening, confessing our brushes with the still sleeping masses, how alone we both felt, how we couldn’t talk to our spouses about the coming avalanche of red pills headed our way.

“If God is going to eviscerate evil from this earth, I must be a cog in the machine.  I have always known I would be a warrior for good in my lifetime.”

As I walked him to the door, we both broke into fits of laughter I haven’t experienced in a Coon’s age.  We cackled until there was no breath left in either of us, then stopped to say goodbye.  I looked deeply into his big blue eyes-and relished the moment the light returned.

“…It’s hard to live in the darkness, to have faith that light exists and is coming.  But Your Word says we can bear fruit even when the world is dark because our light is the Lamb of Jesus, the Word Incarnate, who shines on us, in us, and through us.  We pray for  a flourishing visible to those around us that has no explanation apart from Your power in us.  Not a flourishing of wealth and power, though; gold does not shine in the darkness.  But Your love does.  Give us your love to light this dark world.  Amen.

–   Prayers and Promises for a Hurting World

 

 

 

 

 

Lost, Inside My Own Mind

After a sobering sermon on forgiveness, I find myself searching my heart and mind for relief, release or at least a NOT GUILTY verdict-I discover that I have been looking at many things in the wrong light.

The spiritual director spoke before the band played.  She talked about her granddaughter’s 13th birthday party, planned at a roller rink-50 children were invited.  Only two girls out of those fifty came to the party-her granddaughter was crushed, and she wanted revenge of the eye for an eye sort.  She swore she wanted to go to each and every home that housed the little brats, because these girls responded YES to the invite.

Crushing.  I wept for the little girl, and didn’t stop weeping until the service was over.  I have felt that exact heartache; there is a special kind of pain related to disrespect, cruelty and sucker punches to the gut-it isn’t pretty and it isn’t right, but what can you do?

As of late, I have been isolating myself.  I left our church of four years, ended friendships that were toxic and one sided, even stopped going to exercise class-I blame it on my bad knee, which is partly true.  The other reason?  I have been deeply hurt by no less than three women in that very class.  One woman was a long time friend who taunted me to the point of madness-she belittled, chastised and stalked.  I was honest with her, and no apology was forthcoming, not that I expected or demanded one.  I had hopes for the other two women, a friendship was budding…but these ladies had been BFFs forever, and the one didn’t think too kindly of me butting into the equation.

I had arranged a tea for us this past Winter.  We were having a lovely time until the woman I later learned was insecure and unforgiving, told me that she never attended our local bent and dent discount store because, wait for it…Amish people smell.

“What the fazuck am I doing here?”  The last thing I wanted was another judgmental and unforgiving woman in my life.  I dropped the ball and there it lay.  As much as I needed to get out amongst the living, protecting my heart was much more important.  I haven’t been back in months.  It saddens me because I truly felt at ease with these women, until someone complained about my baking a carrot cake for a member’s birthday.

What is wrong with people?

It amazes me how God works in our lives.  I had thought for years that the women of Schaefferstown were uppity and lackluster, set in their ways and averse to any one or any thing that challenged their black and white view of life.  One particular day I was called out by the instructor as I sat, minding my own business, talking to the woman next to me.

Were you a rebel in High School?”

It happens everywhere I go:  because I don’t care what others think of me, or perhaps because I do, in my own way-I stick out like a sore thumb.  In college I began working at a local restaurant as a hostess.  I sensed the cocktail waitresses and bartender were none too pleased with the new girl-the young blonde with the happy go lucky attitude was shunned-so I turned myself into the dumb young blonde who sarcastically spoke of the customers and employees with condescension and a touch of malice.

Everyone loved her.

I fancied myself an imbecile, too stupid to add up a bar tab, too clumsy to carry a tray of cocktails, too silly to ever be taken seriously.  As an emotionally abused child I learned how to fade into the woodwork;  and now, in my fifties?  I simply can’t risk one more heartache-so I shut myself down, don’t risk putting myself out there.  I have become my mother.

And so it was, as I sat there in the tiny little church in a strip mall this morning, that I began to feel the Grinch’s heart warm up a tad.  I wanted to raise my hand and ask the pastor how one is supposed to forgive seven times seventy without being seen and treated like a doormat.  I truly believe that is why I wasn’t taken seriously to begin with-the old Sara was abundantly loving and incredibly happy, despite all that stood in her way.  The new version?  Hardened, calloused and distrusting of anyone who gives her a sideways glance.  Nothing gets in, yes-but nothing goes out, and that is the point of this blog.

I want my heart back, Jesus.  I miss the girl with open arms and a love for others that couldn’t be dimmed, no matter the beating I took out in the real world.

Oh, what I wouldn’t do to have her back~

 

Dark to a Light so Bright

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

A Pack of Lies

When I was a little girl, not even five, I began reciting this prayer:

God, please allow my family to be happy, healthy, holy and safe.

Growing up in a dysfunctional household (my sister was in a high chair until the age of 11) where chaos reigned supreme-I had to pray.  Clinging to Jesus was how I coped, and nothing has changed in that department.  As a matter of fact?  I pray the blood of Jesus over my dog and myself before we hike in the morning, and today was no different.

To set the stage for this story, I have to make it known that Jess and I hike in very remote areas.  I am extraordinarily aware of my surroundings; I take no chances, carry a big stick and a pistol-not the one I want to carry, but a little red number that looks just like a Ruger.  Sadly, it contains mace and not bullets.  Or perhaps, like my husband says, it is best I not pack heat.  With my Irish temper it could get ugly, and fast.

So, as we exited the woods and moved towards the Wrangler-an older gentleman pulls up and rolls down his window. 

“Can you still fish in this pond or have they drained it?”

Feeling he was harmless, I began a conversation I will not soon forget.

This country is in big trouble.  Hey, I’m an atheist.  God has done nothing for me, and I’ll tell you another thing-that asshole needs to go!!!

My jaw clenched.  My body language changed.  I was put on the defensive immediately.

“Why would you say that sir?,” I gently asked.  I thought, now I can give my testimony of what God has done for me, and perhaps help the old geezer out.

Because of all the women he has raped!!!!!

What the holy fazuck?

How, and I mean HOW does this shit happen to me?  Of all the places in the world, this cranky old man has to piss on my parade?  I’m just minding my own business, I was trying to help…seriously???

“I believe we are done, sir.”  I waled away, but he ranted and raved until I was safely ensconced in my jeep.

Later this morning, while on the phone with my best friend, she casually blurts this out-

“You know who that was, don’t you?  That was a demon.”

Holy Mary, mother of God and all of the Latter Day Saints.

She is as right as rain.

Twisted

How do we do it, us humans?  How do we manage to screw relationships up so badly? Especially those with eternal soul ties, as in siblings and family?  Your family should be the most precious thing to you, but sadly this is not the case for far too many.

A prophet is not a prophet in his own town, meaning if we are doing it right?  Our families will be at odds with one another.  It’s in the Bible, and so is the Jezebel spirit-the most prevalent demon since the dawn of time.  Jealousy, projection, rage, hatred, mockery, gaslighting and the list goes on.  She is gaining speed as we speak, and woe to the unsuspecting fool who stumbles upon her.

Two years ago, I told my kin not to come to my funeral if she couldn’t be a decent human being while I was on this earth.  At the time, I meant every word I said-still do.  Twenty four months is a very long time to be without a sister, and even more poignant?  I have no contact with my Godchild, nor her brother and sister.

This was her kryptonite, and she used it willingly and with wild abandon.  I don’t have the heart nor energy to go into the whole bloody mess of it, and frankly-it is history,  I have forgiven, but I will never forget and therein lies the rub.

I wrote to her the other day, and have yet to receive any form of an answer.  In certain ways, it is a devastation; in others- a sad relief.  I suppose it is God’s way of saying ‘not for you-but that makes it none the easier to give up hope.  The hope one has when they love another human being passionately and unconditionally.  Foolish, perhaps.  Maddening, for certain.

I know she is reading this, she reads every blog.

I want her to know that I am willing to salvage our sisterhood.

I want her to know that it doesn’t matter anymore-the long silences, the unreturned communications, the mean spirited digs and withholding of my blood.  She can’t touch my heart in that way because God has strengthened my spirit.  It would have to be an honest and open two way street.  There will be disagreements, but

She cannot throw the victim card, as I have never done a thing to hurt her.  She can’t throw the drinking card, as I am as clean and sober as I ever hoped to be.

She cannot take my heart away because that ship sailed two years ago.

At the end of the day?  I will not settle for anything less than complete transparency.

But she should know how much I love her.

I always will.