m o n o c h r o m e j u n k i e †photographer. artist. author. singer. songwriter. musician. teacher. student. humanitarian. visionary. addiction counselor. therapist.
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.
My son, Brian (AKA Bob Hedge) was walking along Eastern Blvd. today and encountered a woman who asked him for .89 cents for bus fare. He gave her $10. As he walked on, he saw a homeless man. He was compelled to give him $20, and so he did.
I couldn’t be more proud of my kids. 🙂 As a Mom, there’s nothing that could make me more proud than to know they’re giving $ to strangers on the streets. Being compassionate, loving, and thoughtful goes a long way in this world, and people who do these things are at the top of my list, always.
Rock on, guys! I love you. NAMASTE xo
Helios film lens 44-2/Canon Rebel- private retreat (bamboo forest in background)
I read an article the other day in which a woman said, “A person who chases two rabbits at the same time catches neither in the end.” Thanks Taylor Swift.
It’s 4:10 a.m. and I’m just getting out of the shower. My head is throbbing again; I’m trying to stave off another migraine. I haven’t had a head-smasher in about 6 weeks- that’s a record for me! I ate en entire bag of Swedish Fish though and it’s trying to bite me in the ass: sugar is the enemy! (And I’m slightly addicted to Swedish Fish.)
I’m fresh out of Ambien; hence my insomnia. I was too lazy to go to the doctor, so…here I sit, editing pics and contemplating my future in the early wee morning hours! And on that note, I’m pretty sure I’m only 15 credit hours away from receiving my Bachelor’s in psychology. I have almost 100 credit hours so far; I’m pretty stoked about that. 🙂
I’ve decided that I’m going to try and get into Indiana University Southeast’s Master’s-to-PhD Clinical Psychology program in another year or so. Once I get my foot in the door- it’s a given- I’ll be in. So, it’s crucial that I keep my grades up because the competition in grad. schools is fierce! I’m going to have to really up my game when that time comes. Staying on the Dean’s List is very important. I raise the bar super high for myself so that if I don’t meet my standards and end up falling short, I’ll still succeed. And, I’m thinking about getting a dual Master’s degree- one in Clinical psychology and one in Social Work (M.S.W.); I’m going to need all of the extra tools in my bag that I can get. I’m betting that if I get a master’s degree in social work and a master’s in clinical psychology (minoring in forensic psych.) as well as my PhD in Clinical- I’ll be set. So, that’s what I’m aiming for. It’s ambitious as hell, but I’m an ambitious kinda gal.
In other news, I’m shocked (but not really) that Doggy Daddy hasn’t even requested to see his dog (or spend time with him) – not even once. 😦 It’s heart breaking. Who could walk away from a baby this cute?!
I really shouldn’t be surprised. Same thing, different year. On the other side of the coin though, it’s given Chance and I time to bond even more. I’ve had to fill in the gap and really make sure that he (my dog) isn’t suffering in Doggy Daddy’s absence. And, he’s not. But don’t let me get started on THAT.
Life has been super quiet lately. I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed the peace and quiet and the restoration of sanity in general. It hasn’t been easy! My heart is still raw and I’m still confused and bewildered that Josh and I aren’t even friends any more- we don’t speak. At all. It’s…very weird. But I suppose that’s how it has to be. I’m alright with it. As much as I want to divulge all sorts of juicy tidbits here, I’ll refrain. I don’t owe that man one more thing, but I do owe him the decency of not railing on him if he’s not here to defend himself. I’ll give him that.
Sometimes, it’s a struggle to find my peace and smile throughout the day. I wrestle to do that in the wake of such a hideous breakup. (Then again, it’s only been a little over a month since parting ways.) But I know that I’m capable of great love and great compassion. If I were to lose those two components within me, I’d be nothing. So those are the things that I strive to hold onto more than anything: my love and compassion for my fellow human being. Generally, that’s not hard for me to do, love. But breaking up with the love of your life has a way of destroying innocent things and feelings; it pollutes beauty, and in the end, can leave a thick, evil feeling in your heart. It can be a real battle just to breathe sweet air again- but thank God those feelings don’t last. For some people, they actually become those feelings, until they’re hateful rotten shells of their former selves.
But I know me, and I know my heart. I’ll come out of this a winner. Stronger in love for it. 🙂
I’m not quite there yet! But I will be. And I can still smile and feel like a child inside. That’s a precious thing to me. Life is stillsweet. ♥
Spring break is officially over and I have to get started soon on my 7 page term paper/literature review on OCD.
Short term goal: finishing my term paper
Long term goal: becoming a doctor/psychologist
Well, if there are any other post titles that grab attention more than that one, I’d like to see it.
Lately, I’ve been angry. I can admit it.
I think of my sister, and I’m filled with rage, completely.
She is super- hyper-spiritual- and a hypocrite.
Hey, I call ’em like I see ’em.
We’re all raised Pentecostal in my family, and I know many people that have been raised Pentecostal, and are bitter. It’s a long story.
Somewhere along the way, I’ve become jaded. I’m sure of it.
I still cling to my fundamental Pentecostal beliefs. Believe me. But I’ve also been introduced along the way (in life) to a host of new kinds of people. Artists. Not only “artists”, but “flamboyant artists” who will march proudly in gay parades. I don’t agree with that, however, simply because, it’s freaking wrong to be full of yourself. Gay, OR straight. Have a dose of humility about ya, huh?
The problem I have is this. Not with the gay stuff- I get that. Contrary to my family, or the way I was raised to believe. I have learned along the way, that these people who are stigmatized, are very good people. They laugh, they love, they cry- they hurt- just like I do. My heart is very big. I am wrapped around their pain. I love my friends, truly.
Some of the most supportive people who have been by my side in life over the years, have been gay. I must say, my heart has been moved, and in a very big way, for the plight of my friends who feel ostracized and outcast by society- a society who cannot accept them for who and HOW they are.
Yes, my heart breaks for them. And don’t even get me started on all of the people I know who claim that they are “Christians” yet they slag on gay people. Really? So then, how does that work, that Jesus went to the possessed, the sick, the blind, the deaf, the dumb, the ME and the YOU- and healed them…put His very hands upon their heads…and what. Went His way?
I hardly think so. He was weakened every time He touched somebody new. His virtue bled out of Him and He was weakened. Believe me when I say, that there were plenty of Scribes and Pharisees that allowed Jesus to come into their homes- and hosted a party in His favour. They had heard of Jesus’ healing powers and stuff- they were intrigued. He entertained them. Not only that- He actually made a few friends out of them in the process. Also- He chastised the crowd. He let them know that their sins were no less than others’.
I love Jesus for that. He made friends with blind people. Deaf people. Possessed people. Gay people. Prostitutes. And many others of questionable reputations.
If you know somebody, who says they’re a Christian, and they “hate gay people”- ask them how they’re going to get into the Kingdom of God with all of that hatred?Just saying. That as a Christian community, it’s high-time we stop using gay people to thrash out our hatred, people who are “different”, and start loving ALL people, of ALL races, religions, beliefs, and sexes.
If you are reading this, and you feel mocked, scorned, unloved, or cast out- please feel free to write me at: rushingthunder@yahoo.com
It’s time we stop HATING. Entirely.
You are loved. Whovever you are.
Please know that. 🙂
And on that same note, if you’re a Christain, and you feel that you’ve been a target or hated by a gay person wrongfully, please. Have patience.
This thing goes both ways. Try to open your eyes and see it from either point of view. And I say that to either party.
[pics of my kids] Lensbaby Composer Pro + Double Glass optics/4 & 2.8
“Well where is your pain?”
“In the back of my head, this time. At the top of my neck and the base of my head,” said I.
I suppose I could have just as easily said where my cerebellum and brain stem are.
“Well, that’s exactly where your cyst is,” said he.
“Cyst. Hmm. So…right. You know, I’m not a lightweight. Do I need surgery? Just…tell me what’s up with it.”
And so on and stuff.
So I’ve discovered the culprit of my raging three day migraines. And sometimes four. This arachnoid cyst. Hmm. Not a pretty sounding fella. Arachnoid means spider-like. Who knows what the heck I’m toting around up there. I do know one thing for certain: I refuse to go down without a fight.
Also, I’m not prepared to put my life in the hands of a man I don’t know. Degree notwithstanding. I’ve decided that I’ll take matters into my own hands and request an MRI every six months, measure it myself, and take the direction I think best. I’m going to call the shots.
I’ll continue my homeopathic regimen- ground cayenne and ginger, lots of water, tea, and exercise. Now I know this might seem strange because I’ve researched arachnoid cysts and many others who have them are quite inactive. If you’ve had monster migraines, you learn to not disturb the beast. But I want to unlearn this behavior. It can be a real challenge to simply “live” sometimes, without triggering a migraine. When it hits, it feels like my whole head is exploding, and somebody is stabbing me through my right eye socket with an ice pick.
I’ve had worse pain.
Ok, that’s a complete lie. I haven’t.
It makes childbirth seem like a walk in the park.
And let it be known that I have an insanely high tolerance for pain.
I have a brand on my right arm from a coat hanger- fresh off the fire.
Gangrene set in and I had to cut it out with a knife.
Yup. Ohhhhh it’s a really good thing that I quit drinking whiskey five years ago.
Anyway, back to my tragedy.
In spite of all of this cyst stuff, I’ve decided to work on some of my music over the summer. Along with compiling a few photoshop tutorials for friends, and working on a song for a young girl named Kira. She’s the daughter of a friend (photographer, naturally), and she’s in her third week of radiation treatment. That little girl is one tough cookie. I found out her favourite colour, her favourite food, and have decided that I’ll write, record and produce a track for her as a token of friendship, and as an inspiration for her to keep on fighting.
I realize that God has given me a lot of talents. A lot of them.
Singing
Songwriting
Musician (piano/guitar)
photography and various mediums of art in general
Psychotherapy- yes. Psychotherapy. And I don’t even charge people.
Let’s see…there’s cooking and wait- I’ve published a children’s book too, called: “Peanut Butter Soup”.
It’s a collection of witty, thought-provoking, inspirational, and motivating poems for children. I included some of my chicken-scratch drawings with them- nothing so complicated that a child can’t mimic them. But they’re loaded with messages that raise awareness for the obese, the aging, metally challenged (hey- and mentally too!), and so on, so that kids will learn how to not bully others. Yes. I was a bedwetter until I was fourteen. (Sigh.) I’m afraid this batch of blog-tags are going to be the freakiest collection of words that might ever be listed together yet.
Perhaps I’ll actually get around to promoting that book one day, but for now, I’ll sign personal copies and ship them to friends. Like Kira. 🙂
In time, I’ll post videos. And actually sing. And play. (And stuff.)
For now, I’m soooooooo enjoying my summer break- good grief I thought this past semester was going to kill me. Seventeen credit hours (5 classes) and twenty one credit hours last semester. Not an easy thing to accomplish with blistering migraines, I will tell you. It was nothing short of miraculous that I came through so strongly, and, made mostly A’s and B’s.
Six classes to go and I’ll have my degree in Behavioral Sciences and certification in Substance Abuse.
Go me.
…
p.s. Mr. Chris Alia, I’ve added you to my tags, so if you ever go ego-surfing, you can find me.