Holly in Wine
Morning Glories
I am so stoked. I planted my first flowers ever, only last week, in my mailbox planter; these beautiful morning glories. They’ve defied the lack of rain and near 100 degree heat- daily- and insist on blooming. I couldn’t be more pleased. 🤗
I just went out to check the mail, and to my surprise, noticed that they’ve all tucked themselves nicely and neatly away, into their nocturnal beds for the night, curling themselves up for protection against the night season and everything it brings with it.
Rain is finally on the horizon for tomorrow; I couldn’t be happier. I’m the happiest I’ll ever be under the soothing canopy of rain.
Spot of herbal tea, little classical music, some lit candles and a drizzle of rain…
…perfection.
S A N C T I F Y ~ M E
“Surely the net is spread in vain in the sight of any bird”. -Proverbs
Waiting for the Sun
I just woke up from a category 3 fever dream. This particular one wasn’t so bad. I didn’t leave my body this time (and descend into hell, as I’d done too many times to count in the earlier parts of this year when I was still living with Josh at the trailer), no, this one was heavenly by comparison.
I was lying in a dark room, with a remote in my hand, trying to change the channel or some other remote activity, when I sensed a dark presence enter the room from another dimension.
Here we go again…
I’m no stranger to Spiritual Warfare; in fact, I pretty much sleep with my Armour on at all times. I simply never know when I’m going to be attacked in the night.
Having been raised Pentecostal, and under the fierce Spiritual tutelage of my father, I was educated on all of the tricks of the enemy (whom I consider to be Satan, Lucifer, the Devil, the Serpent, and the Dragon (there are many more, and it’s important to note that they are not all one and the same entity).
Most of my family was raised in Church, as in, attending the building several times per week for decades. My experience was entirely different, however. I didn’t attend Church so much, but was raised under the watchful eye and educated mind of my Spiritually-gifted father, who was a prophet, just as his mother (my grandmother, Jewel), was (also) a prophetess.
My other grandma (on my Mother’s side, Ruth- who I was named after (middle name) ), was also a Prophetess, so I was blessed with a double whammy, inherently, with the gift of prophecy.
In fact, my Dad was not only a prophet, he had been blessed with a spiritual mantle (very much like the kind that was passed on from Elija to Elisha), that came from Sister Sinnex, from Church (many moons ago) when she died. My Pastor, Rev. Hicks, shared with my Dad that Sister Sinnex had a double mantle on her, which represented gifts in both prophesy and prayer. When Sister Sinnex died, her double mantle was passed on to my father, right around the time Rev. Hicks prophesied over my Dad, revealing that God had gifted him with “The wisdom of Solomon”- very powerful stuff.
Having been raised under my Dad’s teachings (for 4 decades), I can attest that it was true. He perpetually prophesied things- on the daily, sometimes just in passing, talking about trivial things- but with purpose- and they would come to pass within weeks- sometimes days, but they would, always. It was only me- and my younger brother, John, – who witnessed these events, for we were the ones who spent our lives with my father, daily, and yearly.
When that is your “normal” growing up, there’s no way you’re going to relate to the world and others in an ideal, “normal” way. My Dad told me when I was only 17 or so, that out of his five children, his mantle would be passed down to me, when he passed away, and so it was.
I had already had gifts of dream interpretation (very much like Joseph, portrayed in the Bible), as well as prophetic abilities from both of my grandmothers and father alone, but after my Dad passed through the veil of this world into the next, it hit me like a freight train.
Being prophetic and being able to ascertain its gifts and callings in your everyday life can be hard to explain. It’s dream-like. In dreams, one doesn’t need to be told something about someone or some particular situation- he or she just knows. That’s just how dreams work. And that’s how the gift of prophecy works as well.
It’s as if one moment you have a thought about something, and the next moment- lightning fast- 200% of the information is downloaded into your mind and spirit instantaneously and you could speak for hours describing how everything works.
My Dad also told me that the order of the familial linage would pass down to (only) me, and then down to my oldest daughter, Heidi- if– he said, she wanted it.
The Bible states that “To whom much is given, much is required.” And as the saying goes, be careful what you wish for!
Heavy is the head that wears the crown…
The Crown is heavy indeed.
It comes with great sacrifice and great responsibility. With it comes much pain, tribulation, and intense responsibility to go before God and lay down on His altar for your loved ones- to sacrifice your life (Spiritually) through heavy prayer and travail. It’s great to pray for those we love. Who doesn’t do that?
But it’s a requirement to bear up the burdens of those who hate me, and lay snares out for me and to rip me apart behind closed doors- biting others and turning their hearts against me.
The human side of me wants to prophecy against them and send thunder down upon their heads- and don’t think I couldn’t do it with one breath-
But the Lord requires me to not only forgive them, but to love them, continually. That doesn’t mean that I want to see them, have tea with them, or be part of their lives, anymore. In honesty, I did want to be, for many years, while they continued to host family gatherings and family birthday parties and Thanksgiving get-togethers and Christmas gatherings and all sorts of festivities of family feasts and merriment, year-after year- with me purposely being excluded.
The entire family.
After 11 long years of this nonsense, you’d think it would have stopped, because, after all, Christians are supposed to love each other, right? And forgive one another? I mean, that’s basic Bible stuff that 2 year old children learn and try to live by.
So then why can’t Christian adults?
The heart is a very deceitful thing, my friends.
As a matter of fact, my niece just hosted my brother’s birthday party back in June, and invited the entire family to celebrate the festivities- purposely excluding me. Everybody went and had a great time. I heard about it 2 days after it was over.
That’s good ole Christian love, huh?
Little hate games people play.
That’s a’ight. God’s taking notes and so are His angels.
Paul, an Apostle of Christ, spoke to the people back in the day about their backbiting, hypocrisy, fake Christianity, etc. and stated, in II Corinthians, “I have come to you all three times now about your evil doings, etc., but a 4th time I will not spare.”
In other words, if he had to come in person a fourth time, he was gonna let ‘em have it.
I’m very much at the “…gonna let ‘em have it stage.”
Paul was pissed because they were acting like hateful fools on 3 separate occasions. Try tolerating that shit for 11 years. From the people who share blood with you.
I’ve reached a point, and more importantly, God Has, that we’re no longer content to perpetually extend endless olive branches and offer up our necks for the slaughter.
It gets old being the only one on the Give a Shit bridge.
He’s directing me to pray in a different way these days. Yes, I’ll still ask God to heap their burdens on my back- twice per day, morning and night in my prayer closet- because they’re too weak to carry their own (either that, or simply too rebellious or simply don’t care to), but either way, I’ll continue to be that beast of burden because what most people don’t realize, is that the lowest place with the Lord, is in the most incredibly peaceful, joyful, place one could ever hope to be.
Sure, it hurts like hell to be in there (the prayer closet), and scream and wail and travail and cry out in pain, at what this family has done to me over the years, and their continual rejection and hate games-
but here’s the thing. If it wasn’t them, it’d be something or someone else. It just sucks that it is them. And it breaks my heart that not a one of ‘em has a freaking HOLY GHOST backbone (as my beloved friend, Sandy, calls it), to stand up for the Truth, the Word of God, not for me! Forget me! But how about any of them saying to one another, “Um, hey, it says in the Bible that if we hate our sister and aunt, but claim to love God, that we’re liars, and that our entire religion is in vain.”
And people think in order to hate someone you have to hit ‘em, or spit on ‘em, or some other form of abuse.
What is hate?
Hate is the act of withholding one’s love so someone else will suffer.
Read that again and let it bleed into your soul.
Looking at you square in the eyes, Kristen.
When you planned my brother ‘s birthday party, intentionally cutting me out, it pleased you to know that I would be hurt.
God saw it. I saw it.
And this was only 2 months ago.
I no longer care about staying silent and hiding away to keep the peace, perpetually holding myself ransom from my own family so everyone can enjoy themselves.
I have 0 desire left to ever join any of you in another “family” gathering. My family is in Heaven.
I gave my entire DSLR camera with every single one of my vintage film lenses to my niece- my entire rig worth $1,300– for her birthday last year, and when her birthday party was planned only weeks later, they all made sure that I wasn’t invited- even my brother whom I loved dearly-
ALL made sure I didn’t receive an invite.
The entire family got together in a group chat- me excluded, of course, to talk about how much I wasn’t welcome at my own niece’s birthday party, as if I was the problem in that situation- when I’d just given my entire camera rig away to the birthday girl- but even so, her Mom, Dad, sister- every single one of them colluded to exclude me from the party in that group chat-
…looking at you again, Kristen, for posting an 🙄 when my brother asked why I wasn’t allowed to join Cesia’s birthday party.
And shame on you, Claudia, for not having the common decency to think of inviting me when I’d just given your daughter my entire camera rig/gear- and we ‘d texted peacefully with each other only days before.
Sick. All of you.
And I didn’t even find out about all of that hideous shit until days after the party.
Evil. Every frikking one of you.
And then have the nerve, brother, to scapegoat me as if I’m the problem.
Hypocrites, every one of you.
With the exception of 2 innocent people in this family- who are genuine Christians, and sweet as apple pie- there are none among you but vipers, as Jesus calls them.
Snakes. All of you.
Will I continue to bear up your burdens in my prayer closet? Of course I will, just as I’ve done for years, and I’ll continue to pray in earnest that God opens each of your eyes to just how hateful each of you have been to me, truly.
I’ll continue to love and forgive, always.
And though you’ve closed your doors on me, year after year, my door will remain open for each of you. I’ll always have an olive branch for any of you; but just as Paul said, I’m done sparing.
Like I say.
Love is s choice. Sometimes it’s a cold, hard, choice, not some squishy feeling that makes you feel a certain way. It hurts to love and choose love, over and over again every day- but we’re commanded to, as Christians.
All of that said, I’m going my own way in life now. Don’t worry about that invite list, Claudia, and Cesia, and Kristen and Christopher, and Anita, and Laura, and Charles.
Y’all can have your parties.
My family isn’t who I share blood with but those that do the will of my Father, as Jesus said.
My Daddy didn’t raise a fool. I’m forever grateful for his teachings over the years. Nobody will ever know the inexhaustible love and wisdom he shared with me, year after year. Too many secrets in the Word to list in 20 volumes, and that’s the truth.
He passed on his Mantles and Spiritual lamp to me, and in its Light, I’ll continue to glow.
SHE BREATHES
*************************************
Heavy is the hand
That pressed her form against herself
Fat teeth
Glisteneed in the moonlight
They waited there
Net spread, hands cupped around their ears
Surrounding her frail departure
She draws the last breath
Undeniable beauty
The offering
Fragrant still
Even in Death
One by one
They pluck a leaf
To prove that she had faded
Delighting in their spoils
They locked hands
And marched into the bloody night
A nightingale
Comes a singing
She lights upon the still warm leaves
And as she lets out her last last hushed coo
One last sound shatters the night
She breathes
#Foodporn
~chef’s kiss~
I N S P I R E D
When You’re Happy, It Shows
Just had the best visit with my dear friend (and former mother-in-law), Sandy. It was her birthday today, and I made her a batch of fresh veggie soup and gave her my floral Pioneer Woman cooking pot. She loved it. We had a great visit and had some Wildflower Tea and raw honey. Great day. 🤗🌻
Broken foot, schmoken foot…
Breakfast of Champions
Oven-Roasted Chicken, with Fresh Lemon & Bay Leaves, accompanied by Paprika, Cumin, Italian Seasonings, Extra Virgin Olive Oil, Pink Himalayan Salt and Fresh-Cracked Green, Pink, and Black Peppercorns.
What my son wants, my son gets. 😎
Yesterday’s Catch
Eclectic snaps from my outing yesterday.
(Shot from a moving car.)
Louisville, KY. iPhone 15 Plus.
My Diamond
Shadow, on my wall
And my latest badass hair creation: Triple Buns
G R O W. H E A L. REJOICE.
I’m pretty excited in my life right now. You’d think I won the lottery with all the fun I’ve been having lately, but no, rather, I broke my foot just over a week ago and won’t be able to return to work (as an Addiction Counselor) for the next 2 months.
The break on my left foot, in the left metatarsal, is completely severed in two:
The Orthopedist told me that it’ll take several months to heal, and that it’s going to “suck” for a long time.
Per the usual, “sucking” is truly a matter of perspective. One man’s suck is another man ‘s paradise, and I choose the latter to revel in.
I have crutches and a cast shoe I’m supposed to wear, but the majority of the time, I do just fine with strategic foot placement when walking (hobbling). I can’t stand fully on my foot with it flat on the ground, yet- I have to keep the left side (surrounding the severed bone) uplifted from the ground, forcing the bulk of my weight onto my heel. It took some getting used to but I’m like Speedy Gonzalez now, zipping around the house and yard- cleaning, cooking, gardening, shopping, and everything else I want to do.
I’ve spent the past week scrubbing the house down (including washing all of the windows)- doing some major deep cleaning…gave the cat and my two dogs a bath last night- had my own shower, made a fine supper, and then took the dogs for a 1/2 mile walk around the neighborhood- yes, with my broken foot!
You won’t see any grass growing under these feet.
I enjoy staying active throughout most days. Today, however, was my day of rest, so I stretched out on my chaise lounge with my remote and immediately fell asleep. (So much for catching a show.)
I absolutely love my new house. It’s my sanctuary. I get a ton of sunlight through my living room and sitting area windows, and in the evenings, I light candles and make tea and listen to the hundreds of bullfrogs all singing in a beautiful chorus; I’ve never been happier in life than I am right now.
I think a big part of that is my betrothal to Jesus. I’ve recently renewed my vows of love with Him; choosing to love Him above all other people in the world- including my own parents/children/ friends- there’s nobody who can compare to Him and His love.
I take my burdens, pains, sorrows, and broken heart to Him in prayer twice per day- once in the morning and again in the evening- to my prayer closet, where I go in to Him and shut the door, and am alone with my Creator- my best friend- the lover of my soul.
Jesus says, in Matthew 11:
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
As humans, we tend to carry a lot of emotional and spiritual baggage within us; especially those of us who’ve experienced a lot of trauma in life, such as myself. It can be difficult to adjust our internal filters accurately, due to the damage we’ve suffered.
It’s no different than trying to fill a ziplock bag with water which has 25 jagged holes in the bag. Until the bag is repaired, there’s simply no way it’s going to hold water.
Every person has his and her own set of unique filters in life. Two people can witness the same event but tell two completely different stories- not rooted in *fact*, but based on their personal anecdotal, theoretical, and empirical life experiences.
We paint the canvas the colours based on our own unique experiences- sifting information through our own filters.
When our filters are skewed and damaged as children, we grow up seeing through those lenses. And, truth be told, we all suffer trauma in life. Nobody gets out of that one.
The question is, are we going to learn and grow and heal and share from our wreckage, or are we simply going to become part of the broken furniture, perpetually injured and damaged, sucking up the light from those around us like an eternal abyss?
Love is a choice.
Hate is s choice.
Pain is a choice.
Anger is a choice.
Forgiveness is a choice.
Unforgiveness is a choice.
Healing is a choice.
Bitterness is a choice.
Happiness is a choice.
I thank God, for freeing me from the shackles of hatred and unforgiveness toward others.
I know people, personally, who claim to be Christians- go to Church faithfully- read the Bible, pray- do all of the “righteous” things Christians are supposed to do, but their hearts are full of hatred against someone they refuse to forgive, or love.
Like Jesus said, “Their outsides are whited sepulchures, but their insides are full of dead men’s bones.”
They can iron clothes, get their kids ready, feed their family, go to church, put on a “good Christian show” in front of the entire congregation, thinking they’re a hop, skip, and a jump away from Heaven itself- but the Bible says their entire religion is a lie if they say they love God but hate their brother or sister in Christ.
Sadly, I share blood with some of these hypocrites, and don’t even get me started on their utter hypocrisy.
They’re gonna get a sad wakeup call down the road, when they try to storm Heaven, but are forbidden entrance, all because they chose hate over love..unforgiveness over forgiveness. Revenge over compassion. Giving the cold shoulder rather than a warm heart. Withholding charity rather then giving freely from their hearts.
They done gat me preachin’ up in hih!
But back to Jesus. He says, my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
The yoke He speaks of is no different than the yoke around the neck of cattle. His yoke- his instrument of corralling us into his barns, where there is (spiritual) safety, shelter, food and water- is easy, and His burden is light! Not our own. It is us, as humans, who collect heavy burdens throughout life and drag them around, from one person to the next, and then we wonder why we feel dead inside, and why we’re not experiencing joyful relationships that bear fruit.
It is because we’re shackled by our own yoke- a yoke of our own making, with combinations of blame, resentment, envy, strife, hatred and murder that are locking it in place, around our spiritual necks. But what do some do? They blame other people for that yoke that they made themselves. It’s everybody else’s fault, but never their own. In reality, it is their very mouths who’ve dug pits for their enemies that have slaughtered them. The more they vomit out their hate campaigns to one another, the tighter the noose grows around their own necks.
“Thou art snared by the words of thy mouth, thou art taken by the words of thy mouth.” -Proverbs
But Jesus’ yoke is easy.
And His burden is light.
People completely miss the simplicity of this Scripture!
We’re too caught up trying to free our own yokes from our necks that we fail to understand that we’ve got the wrong yoke on to begin with!
We’re supposed to be wearing Jesus’ yoke.
And we’re too used to carrying around our decades-long, dusty old crumbling burdens that we refuse to acknowledge the truth of this part of the Scripture- where Jesus says- MY burden is light.
We have no business (as Christians) to be dragging our decrepit old ancient burdens around in our lives, and God forbid someone should ask us how we’re doing.
“Oh, you know…I’m hanging in there…” (exhales a heavy sigh)
Wow. What a testimony of Jesus’ healing power.
I love the Scripture that states, “The joy of the Lord is my strength.”
There are so many times in the Bible where Jesus tells His disciples- and others- to REJOICE. That’s not a request, but a commandment.
“Rejoice when men shall revile you and say all manner of evil against you for my sake! For great is your reward in Heaven,” He says.
If we’re supposed to rejoice when we’re being persecuted by people- including other Christians- when they’re gnashing on us with their bloody teeth, how much more should we be rejoicing on any given day, no matter how things are going?
These are the principles I live by.
I don’t throw things up here on my blog that I haven’t birthed repeatedly- year in, year out.
This is the secret to my joy.
Notice I didn’t say my happiness.
Happiness is fleeting. It’s emotion-based. It sails in like a balloon, filling the heart, then floats out again, leaving its imprint, echoed by sadness once it’s departed.
But joy!
Joy comes from the Lord. Joy = unadulterated, never-ending happiness.
We don’t have to wait until we get to Heaven (in my case, The New City, mentioned in Revelation) to experience ever-lasting joy!
When I go before the Lord every morning (and again, every evening), on my knees in my secret place– my prayer closet- I shut my door, fall on my face, and give God, and Jesus, what they deserve, which is my praise.
Ru-Ak means “breath”, or “spirit”. It is the very least I can do, as a Christian and follower of Jesus Christ, to offer Him my breath- the very breath He breathed into me to give me life.
My special time in that secret place with the Lord is all about 2 specific things:
1.) Praise
2.) Gratitude
Without gratitude, you’re a dead duck in the water. Gratitude is woven throughout every fiber of my being.
There’s literally nothing I cannot be grateful for. I’ve experienced more hardships than most people will ever have to experience, and can honestly say, I’m grateful for every one. (You can read my BIO tab (at the top of my blog) for more information on that.)
I learned long ago that it doesn’t matter which side of God’s scales we’re on- whether it be the pain side, or the pleasure side- we owe Him our praise and gratitude, regardless. It took years of tragedy, trauma, and gut/wrenching pain for me to realize that no matter my experiences- God is still on the Throne, He’s still God, and He’s still just.
Does the sun not still shine though it’s dark and stormy? Does the sun cease to shine though it’s dark and night?
Just because we don’t see the sun shining during those times doesn’t mean it’s not still there, shining brightly.
So is God.
When I hit my knees to the ground in prayer, I thank Him for everything, including painful experiences. For it’s through the pain that we develop our strong roots. The sunshine is great, it feeds the leafy bits, but it’s the dark, cool soil and the immense pressure therein that cracks the seed’s hull open. And only then does new life begin, as the roots make their way down into the deep, dark earth, so are the prayers and the heart that pours out the pain to the Lord, covered by gratitude for the situation- no matter what I’m going through or experiencing.
The deeper the roots submerge, the richer the water! So is prayer, when the heart pours out its complaints, sorrows, burdens, and troubles before the Lord, offering up gratitude for the pain that we don’t always understand, but trusting that the Lord has already prepared our escape plan- our exit strategy- from the painful situation.
This is truly my secret to remaining joyful in every situation.
The Lord takes the pain- surrounded in gratitude- and draws it into His bosom, converting it into joy, then sends it back down through our conduit of praise.
It’s a transaction. A spiritual transaction.
Pain for joy.
Beauty for Ashes.
The pain is temporary, but the joy is never-ending.
**********************************
I started growing a lemon tree today!
I planted some lemon seeds in a silver pail, using organic (indoor) potting soil, along with some basil, and tomatoes. I’ve never tried to grow anything in my life, but I find it cathartic and relaxing to commune with nature, and to have a relationship with plants.
I can’t wait to see my first sprouts!
I love the time it takes for things to grow. For example, a lemon tree doesn’t produce fruit for its first 5-7 years. It’s a waiting game and it’ll certainly work some patience into ya.
I’m having the time of my life right now. 🤗
I’m accomplishing far more with a broken foot than I ever did without one!
I meditate on these two specific Scriptures throughout the day, when I’m working:
“In all labour there is profit, but the talk of the lips tendeth only to penury.” – Proverbs
And:
“I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.” – Ephesians
As well as:
“I have an unction from the Holy One, and know all things.”
– Unction means anointing. That was one of my Dad’s favourite Scripture’s that he shared with me.
Time for my beloved Wildflower tea with raw honey!
The frogs are singing their nightly song; I can hear them through my windows. Another wonderful day yawns and prepares to sleep…
…and dream.
C A F E
m o n o c h r o m e j u n k i e † 