...

(march 08)

For some reason I'm thinking about the Sunglass People tonight. I mentally named them that. They were customers that came into the vitamin store I was working at back in '01. All I know is, I was minding my own business, when this big fat motorcycle pulls up and this couple, all leatherbound and wearing dark sunglasses walked into the store. It was hillarious. Because for one thing, they looked like they were in their late 40's, which is fine, but the problem was mainly with the woman. She was really tall, really fake blonde, really busty and really tan. Every bit of her was somehow squeezed and squished up into this black leather getup she had on, including really high, spike-heeled black boots. And it wasn't even a weekend.

The store I worked at was right by Addison, a small city filled to the brim with middle-aged Harley riders. It's a real phenomenon. Anyway the man didn't phase me at all, but the woman.... this is why she was hillarious. This is what she did. I was running the store alone, so it was all me, of course. I always had to handle the freaks alone. They entered into the store, the man went about his business and started looking around, but the woman... she (sunglasses still on, I couldn't see her eyes) strolls on over to me, and she didn't stop, she walked right up until I thought her chest was going to bump into my head. (I'm 5"3.)

So imagine, this tall woman who thinks she's the Terminator or something, not saying a word, not even a smile, just slowly approached me as if she was going to grab me by the throat. But no. You see, my Freak Tolerance Level was already at record levels due to working at that place, so I didn't put up with anything. I just stood there as she walked towards me. I know enough about body language to know, the normal thing for me to do at that point was to take a few steps back. I think that's what she was going for. But little did she know, when you're on my turf, I win, no matter how short I am.

So I stood there, until she was right up in my face, looking down on me, just inches from me, hovering, not unlike a cobra staring down a chicken with a broken wing. I looked at her and she looked at me. I started laughing. She continued to stare at me. Finally (without moving back) I said, What can I help you with?

She just stood there in silence, staring at me. Finally she spoke. She remained in the same place, hardly moving, and said, It looks like you have a good selection here. I thought to myself, where's the hidden camera? Is this a joke? I laughed and started telling her all about our best products, BUT! I didn't look at her face when I did. I looked off to the side, knowing it was bugging her. It was my plot to get her to take off her shades. It worked. After a few minutes, she took a few steps backwards and removed her shades. Turned out it was a real live woman under there! Not only that, but she started asking me questions and we actually ended up having a pleasant conversation. They were in town for some concert. I guess they just needed to make a quick pit-stop to intimidate a hapless local.

My point is, after working retail since the age of 18, I have zero tolerance for people who wear shades in the store. Dark ones, that is. The kind that completely hide the eyes. And they come in and expect me to look them in the eye. I refuse. The bottom line: If I can't see you, you won't see me. I look off to the side, invent some imaginary focal point, until it drives them nuts and they take them off.

I'm small, but I deserve the same amount of equality and respect as anyone else. At least the people who wear dark glasses in the store aren't as bad as the Woman Who Carried Her Poop Around In A Pickle Jar. But that's another blog.

And she went around showing it to people! I'm not kidding.








.....

Oct 20, 2007 at 12:14 PM
A few days ago I went to hang out with Mark, my old manager, at the vitamin store. Each time I walk in he stops in his tracks and puts his

hands over his heart and acts like he's having a heart attack, and he says, "whatever have I done to be so worthy of this visit?" Then

we hug and sit down and talk for about an hour. This is pretty much all we did when I worked there, too. Sat and talked. But the owner of

the place would bust us and say, "Mark you are supposed to be training Amy in sales..." So he'd go through this tedious and exhausting

stuff, telling me all about how to properly sell, asking "probing questions" and what-not. I always got the giggles when he tried to

teach me things. One day, after I had only been working there for about a week, I noticed that sales were very slow and hardly any

customers came in, yet I was receiving all this training. So I said something. I was like, "Mark, um, exactly when do you use all of

these skills?" He saw through my straight face and broke down and said, "Well you see Amy, this isn't a vitamin store. No, in

fact, it's a vitamin theater! We just PRETEND to sell vitamins here!" That did me in laughing, and I think we laughed every day after

that. It was bad when we worked together.

Anyway, my point is, every few months I'll pop in and surprise him, and it's always so refreshing. He's a 60-something Jewish man, the

funniest you've ever met. Has somewhat of a cult following in the area, lots of rich middle-aged women go to see him and get free

nutrition/marriage counseling from him. I make fun of him. He's a pimp. He blushes when I call him on it.

So a few days ago I made a surprise visit, and we got all caught up. I told him about the whole health ordeal, and he just shook his

head and said, "Amy I've always said, you have more tales to tell and more life experiences than anybody I know, it's as if you have

enough experiences for 9 other people. You could go on Oprah and just talk about ONE of them." And I said, "Mark you don't even know

the half of it!"

That's the funny thing. I did share my story with him, the printed one, which I ended up confiscating and giving to somebody else. When

I drove out there to get it from him, before he handed it over he said, "You better not throw this away. And I want it back."

Well he's not getting it back.

I don't know if I'll ever see it again, actually. But that's ok. I've always known, it was only an outline.

He says that I have lived through so many interesting things, and yet, he doesn't even know how deep it all goes. I'm not sure I even

know. I keep having dreams of layers. I see my writings, and I see layers, and depths within depths, and puzzles to solve.

I know how odd my life is, but then again, it's not without a point or a purpose.

What I need to share now is the frosting on the cake. I wanted to keep it swept under the rug but apparently that's not happening. That's

alright. I need to grow more balls anyway. I need to do what I need to do.

It's all about spiritual warfare. It's about the biggest battle I've ever experienced. It's real, and I tell the truth.

You think I just happened to get sick, and took some time out. No, actually, that's not the case. I asked for it. And I got it.




Where do I begin? Just so you know, this is still extremely confusing to me, and I think I have it figured out, but one can really know

for sure. I won't really "get it" until I see it, that means, writing it out. So this might not be super organized. Just warning you. No, wait,

go ahead and get all confused. That would be fair.

Ok. Let's start with the measuring cup. I knew when it was given to me that it held meaning. No, really. The first thing I noticed was that

it held 4 cups. And that I would be the one to fill it up and pour it out. 4 cups of solid conviction. 4 cups of trial and tribulation. I

told you that my health situation was a combo meal already. All the doctors know is I had west nile that caused encephalitis. That's it.

I had more than west nile. I had 4 things wrong with me. And each one of them was a direct result of something I did (and didn't do.) Not

only that, but I was given a clear warning about each one.

Have you ever heard that when God judges, it begins in His church? In His own people? He never goes out and busts up on the people

with their backs turned against Him without whipping up on His own first. Just one more reason that I love Him so much. He is SO FAIR

and JUST. I totally trust His judgements even when they make my own life miserable, because I know it's right.

So do you want to hear about the measuring cup?

First I'll tell you the 4 things that were physically wrong with me:

~west nile virus (neuro-invasive)

~fluid build-up (water on brain)

~swollen brain tissue (showed on first 2 MRI's)

~nervous breakdown! (sort of an archaic term but I don't know what else to call it)



For the past nine months I have been healing from all 4. Physically, I'm all done. Mentally, I'm amazed and still a little baffled and

perplexed. Spiritually, I'm supercharged and alive. Emotionally, I'm trying not to hurt. I'm trying to see everything through eyes of

faith. That's the only thing that keeps me going. If I base anything on my feelings I'm done for. To think that I've experienced all of

this on my own is really something. (excuse me while I pat myself on the back)



Back in the mid-90's God said to me through a minister: "You will have a day of visitation and restoration that will set you on a course,

and no man shall stand in your way." This came to pass in the year 2000, when I had my dream of Jesus restoring my heart. This is the

one where my mom saw a tall blonde man walking behind me as I went to bed, before I had the dream. After that, my unhealthy relationship

came to an end, and lo and behold, since then, no man has stood in my way, that's for sure! Even though at times I'm like, "God, why

don't You just match me up with one, just find one who doesn't stand in my way? I mean, do they ALL have to stand in my way?" I guess

the ones I was picking were. What I'm on the lookout for now is one who doesn't stand in my way, but helps show me the way. Or

something like that.

How did I get on this subject? Oh yeah. To say that I can't believe I have all this to say, and it all happened to me on my own. You

know, we really do find ourselves in the most unexpected situations on this earth. The very things you think you can never do. You'll

do them.





cup 1~ west nile virus

"Guard your mind at all cost" (heard in my spirit, June '05)



This was an intense time for me, spiritually. When I moved to the little white house in Red Oak. That's when stuff started to really

happen, one thing after the next, many dreams and visions, many warnings, many miracles. I was all on my own in a new place in a scary

neighborhood, and all I had was God. I wasn't on great terms with my family and I avoided my neighbors, except for the one who killed

the big fat snake in my yard, they were nice.

I heard this particular warning in my spirit and it was for real. It was major. And I got scared. I was like, ok, don't I always guard my

mind?

Mark, the vitamin store manager, kept telling me about this one movie, saying that I really needed to see it. It was a psychological

thriller and he said it would blow my mind. I kept turning him down, knowing deep down it wouldn't be good for me to see. One day he

brought it to work, and one look at the cover confirmed my suspicions, that this was a movie I should most definitely NOT see. I made

up some lame excuse, saying, "Mark as you know I live alone, so getting scared is not really in my best interest right now."

For some reason, he kept insisting I see it. One day I gave in. I admit it looked fascinating. I knew I wasn't "guarding my mind" at all,

but I thought, it's just a movie, right? And I'm a big girl.

The night I watched it, all hell broke loose.

In my mind.

Not only that, but I distinctly recall getting bit by a mosquito, right in the middle of the movie, on my left leg. I had my back door open

so my old dog could go in & out, and bugs were coming in. I remember swatting it and seeing blood. Don't laugh. Even if that wasn't

"the" mosquito, it's all part of it.



You need to know how God is with me. It's not all roses and it's not a sweet walk in the park. He's hard on me sometimes because He

always gives me warnings. For almost everything I do, I'm already clued in. I cannot get away with anything, and consequences are

severe. He's blessed me in some amazing ways and I have a responsibility to share it, and I need to walk in it. I have to keep my life

clean. It's not an option. And people laugh when I get up and leave the room if something trashy comes on tv, or cover my eyes or ears

when evil junk is flashed on the tv. I cannot have those sounds and images in my head. It's not to be righteous. It's to protect my mind.

I'm strong, but also pretty darn fragile. I hang in the balance.

The movie....

It messed with my head so bad that I was disturbed for weeks to come, crying in the day, not sleeping at night, terrified and questioning

my sanity. Ask me what it was & I'll tell you if you want to know. I brought it back to Mark in tears, telling him how messed up it was, and

he said how sorry he was, that he had no idea it would affect me like that. I said, "Mark you only know bits and pieces of my life, you

don't know it all, and this movie cuts deep with me." He was really sorry and I was sort of mad at him.

I did not guard my mind. Not just with the movie, but other things as well, that are sure to bubble up to the surface as I write. But the

movie was the kick-off. It sealed my fate.

Disobedience led to my brain getting infected. Are you spiritual at all? Do you understand me? That what I have to give on this earth is

spiritual in nature? I'm impotent in so many areas of my life, but I have a lot to give in this area, so do you see how I would be

attacked there? Do you see how my my mind is a prime target? My mind, that God ministers to and through with dreams and visions and

words of knowledge. I have to keep it pure, if not for me, then for Him. I know there are others like me out there, I see them, I see their

blogs. But I can't make connections, I don't want to come close. Too much. Earlier this year I met a young woman like me. In her early

20's, same type of gifts. But talking with her was almost too intense, I can't explain why. I think folks like us are designed to operate

alone. Either that or I need to get used to the whole thing and run with it.

That's another thing a minister said to me, in '04:

"God says to you, I have given you a ministry and you need to RUN WITH IT!"

He also said for me not to be afraid of what God is doing with me and not to be afraid/ashamed of who I am.

I'm working on it.




Oh my. How on earth do I tell this. How on earth do I piece it all together. Even if I went in chronological order it still would be

confusing. Stuff is all connected and it overlaps. I'm telling you, it's my very own personal puzzle to solve, and God has given me all

the clues I need to piece it together. He gives me lessons that are filled with symbols and mysteries and clues, I think because He

knows that's how I'm the most impacted. What kind of nerd am I? To be so amazed at my own life? Is it just me? Or is my life sort of "off"?

Speaking of puzzles. The other day I had a disturbing dream, it involved lizards and a small black snake. A viper. And when I woke up,

baffled as to its meaning, I had a vision: remember those old snake puzzles made by the Rubik's Cube people? A long plastic thing that

you folded up into a ball, or other geometric shapes and designs? Well, I saw one. Green and white. And I heard in my spirit, "Snake

Puzzle."

Yeah. For me to solve. And just when I thought I had it figured out, I realized, there are more and more layers to it. But just remember

the whole snake thing. You will be quizzed later.



I guess in order for this to make sense, I'll have to back way up, to 1988. That's when the story really begins. Or, see, that's where it

ends. 1988 was a cut-off year for me. My old life ended and a new one began. Trauma split my mind. (this is why that particular movie

was so disturbing to me.) My boyfriend in '88 is a key player in all of this, and I don't know why. But it has something to do with the fact

that he was the last person who saw me before I "changed". It's as if, somehow, I left my old self with him, on a spiritual level?

He was with me after the abortion. He caught my fall. I had already ditched the guy who got me pregnant, just ran like a child from him,

not facing reality and not even telling him what I did till months later. He found out.

Anyway, I'll call him J. The good boyfriend. I went to his apartment the day of the abortion and spent the next several months with him.

He knew me inside & out and loved me anyway. Hard to believe, but true. He's the one who crashed me into the table, during the helmet

incident. He's the one I learned to "sleep with" for real...literally, go to sleep next to. I'm getting to my point. I left myself behind with

him. And then I split, in more ways than one.



1988 was a year of really intense spiritual warfare as well.

Oh my goodness. If I'm going to tell this, I have to go back even further. I can't just half-way do this. You have to know who I was and

what I struggled with. You have to know the battle that started raging against me when I became a Christian. And how my mind was

attacked through trauma. You know, trauma and abuse are great inroads to demonic attacks? Did you know that? Our minds are so

vulnerable. I have overcome so much. And nobody knows it but me...(sappy music playing in background)




"If you wait long enough, the truth comes out."

Somebody said that once about me. I don't lie, it's not that. It's just that I like to take my time when it comes to telling the whole thing.

I guess this one has been a long time coming.



This is going to be annoying. I am going to really get on your nerves with what I'm about to talk about. I'm going to get under you skin

like a fungal infection.

You need to know what I used to be like. I've conveniently ommited it from my story. Just sort of skipped on over it. Yes I told you how

lost and dumb and weak and confused I was. I told you how easy I was. But what you don't know is how conceited I was when I was a

teenager.

I know how I got that way. It was a big cover-up. It all started when we moved from my sweet little existence in Oak Cliff to the big

harsh realities of public school in DeSoto.

In private school in Oak Cliff, I had my issues, but I also knew who I was. I was the quiet sweet artistic little nerd who the teachers

loved and praised in front of all the other kids, making them sick. I got made fun of. I had friends, but they were loners like me. And

you already know about the whole foot ordeal.

So upon moving to a new town and a new school, I decided to turn my life around. I decided I was not going to start off on the wrong

foot. I was not going to be ridiculed. I was going to change everything.

I entered public school at the age of 11. 6th grade. I immediately scoped the premesis and discovered who was cool and who was not.

I watched. I paid attention. I learned to dress the right way (never had to worry about clothes or fashion up until this point, thanks to

private school uniforms.)

By 7th grade, it was smooth sailing. Over the summer I somehow blossomed. I entered 7th grade and suddenly I was getting interesting

new looks from the boys. I developed my own kooky valley girl style and soon enough, other girls were actually copying me! The

popular ones, at that! I used all of my resources, and found a way to use my artistic abilities to gain more friends. One day in English,

I got out a piece of drawing paper and a nice pencil, and proceeded to draw a lifelike rendering of two gay guys. In the act. And I

mean, IN THE ACT. Don't ask me how I even knew what that looked like. I just guessed. As I drew, I noticed people on either side of me,

watching. A few started to laugh. I'll never forget this day. Before you know it, they were passing my drawing around the whole

classroom, laughing hysterically, looking at me with wide eyes. Some were saying how good of a drawing it was, others were just

shocked to see what I drew. I really didn't care what they were saying. The point was, my mission was accomplished. They noticed me.

For reasons that were cool. I can't tell you how many friends I won that day.

Guys starting swarming around me. My friends started getting jealous of me. I found myself in a few kitten fights. One of my best friends

didn't speak to me for a while because her boyfriend told her that he wanted her to start making her hair look like mine.

I found the attention I wanted. And I maintained it, all through high school.

I rode the waves of vanity, pride, and conceit. These are what carried me through. Not good, wholesome character traits. I left those

behind at private school with the nuns, where they belonged.

In 8th grade I won class president of my history class, as a joke. I ran, just to see if I would win. My opponent was serious about it. He

made a whole speech on how he would improve the class. My speech? All I did was get up there and announce to the class, "If you vote

for me, and I win, my mom will bring pizza up here for the whole class."

I won. They thought it was funny. And this was a project on the whole political system. We had been working on it for a few weeks,

starting out with several "candidates", and it got narrowed down to myself and the other kid. I informed my mom that she had to feed my

entire class pizza, and she did. I'll never forget the look on my opponent's face. He was truly hurt. He knew (along with everyone else)

that I was just goofing off. I looked at him and just shrugged my shoulders and laughed.

This is how I was. Anything for a laugh. Anything for popularity. Anything for "good" attention. I thought that as long as I kept up the

act, they'd never discover who I really was.

High school was a blast. My competitive spirit grew into a beast. Art was my domain and any new talented students were a threat to my

kingdom. I worked for, and won, the coveted Art IV award that is given to one senior each year, at the end of the year. It represented 4

years of excelling in art. It was almost as if I thought it was mine already.

At the end of the year, the class favorites are chosen. I was nominated in every category, but didn't win any of them. My English

teacher pulled me aside one day after school and told me, "Amy, you need to know something. I saw the ballots and I saw the scores.

You had more votes than any other girl in the class, but the problem was, they were spread out in four different categories- most

talented, most beautiful, most witty, and most friendly. More people voted for you than anyone else. Just thought you'd like to know

that."

I laughed, and acted like I didn't care.

But deep inside, I was amazed. I had no idea my scheme had really panned out. My disguise. My act. It had grown into something

unnatural. What started off as a simple ploy to cover up my true self, grew into my whole personality. I'm not saying I wasn't any of

those things. I was kind. But the others were a joke. The others were all an attempt to be important. It wasn't me. But the problem was, it

was too late. I was so used to the attention that I received, I almost expected it.

At one time, I was a sweet and loving and humble little girl.

And now, I looked in the mirror. What had I become?

Vain. Arrogant. Conceited. Competitive, and not in a good way. Proud. Shallow. Self-centered.

I bet you didn't know any of this. Some people tell me how humble I am. How I live so simple and how easily contented I am. How un-

materialistic I am. How I never put on airs. I hardly wear makeup. My hair is natural. I'm transparent. I show my belly. I lay low. On

purpose. And there's a really good reason why.

I am avoiding myself. My old self.

There is more to this whole story than you think.





Layers within layers, false identities within made-up images.

Talk about a case of arrested development.

The funny thing is, even during this whole time of vanity & pride (sorry for the lame terms but come to find out, that's what it's called)

...I created a whole NEW image, even within that one. It's the one I came up with when I quit drill team. The hippie chick. I thought I was

more in-touch with myself that way. And I guess in a lot of ways, I was. I was being myself. I gave up a certain crowd and a certain

image, and I relaxed. But it was also an invented identity.

My teen years were a paper-thin shell. The outside looked nice but the inside was empty and lost and hurting.

I suppose my whole hang-up with identity was a real weakness back in the day. I had no idea who I really was, seeing as how I worked

so hard to cover it up and hide it.

We are always attacked in our weakest spot.

My mind was fragile and weak.

When I had the abortion in 1988, over the course of the next few months my mind began to be affected. I was shattered. I don't know

exactly when it happened. All I know is, after discovering that I was pregnant, I chopped off my hair. Actually, cut it so close to my

head on the left side that it appeared to be shaved. What was I doing? I was "killing" myself.

Killing my identity and my image. Why the hair meant so much I have no idea. I had to end up getting it fixed by a professional, who cut

it slanted and made it look like a real haircut. But it was totally cropped over my left ear. In fact it was this haircut that drew in the

hairstylist Aussie, who bought me the jacket, that was given to the Christian bikers, who came to my rescue years later, to help with a

situation that almost did me in years later. Full circle. Thanks, bad haircut.

So I could make this long and drawn out, or I can keep it brief. I split. In the head. From the abortion. No I was not 2 people, it wasn't

like that. But I was not myself. I separated somehow. This was different. Before, I managed to come up with new images to fit the

situation at hand. This was beyond a "new image". This was a whole new personality.

I parted with my old self. And not for healthy reasons.

I got rid of all my belongings. I changed the music I listened to and the way I dressed. I threw away Amy. Or did I? Who did I throw

away? Whoever it was, it was fake too.

So welcome to my world of memories. See the confusion? See the whole "who am I" thing?

I promise all of this ties together.

I just have to tell it in fragments, or else I'll get so confused and lost in it all and just give up and delete everything.

Snake puzzle.



Oh by the way. Did I ever tell you that I have been with 20 different guys? 15 were before I got married. 5 were after my divorce.

Just so you know.

I was a compulsive sexaholic. Yes I said that. You heard me right. And I left a trail of destruction behind me. My ex-husband calls

them my "victims". None of them were one-night stands, they were all legitimate boyfriends. But as soon as I got my fix, I was done.

Understanding now why this "time out" for me has been so necessary? And I have complained. To God. As if I have a right. As if I have a

right to ask Him why I'm not living happily ever after with my Prince.

He has allowed me to screw up time and time again, for my own good. I heard someone say recently that He "redeems" our mistakes and

turns them into good things. Well I sure have given Him a lot to redeem.

And to think I survived in one piece. You'd think that I'd at least have a disease or two, but no. Nothing but west nile antibodies (and a

positive reading for TB that I got as a kid, but no disease). I deserve the worst. I really do. If not HIV, then at least a good rash. But

no. For some strange reason, I've been spared.

Yes I have been so, so shady. And bad. Should I tell you more? ...wait, no. I think that's enough. I think you get the picture.





June 15, 2005.

I had just started my new job at Cox Farms.

This is where it all started to spin around so fast and escalate. The events that took place after this night could fill up a book. But I

still wonder if I'm believed. (a complex carried over from years and years of defending myself I suppose.)



How much do I tell? How do I stick to the point? What is the point?

I was about to go out with my old boyfriend, J, the helmet guy. Hadn't talked with him in a few years. I was going to meet him up at a

place where he was playing. I had seen him a few days earlier at his work, got a copy of his cd, took a look around the place, rode

with him to the bank. No big deal. We've kept in touch over the years, but never to get back together. Messy past. On my part, not his.

(He's officially innocent in the whole deal.)

How do I tell this? If he ever sees this, I don't want him to be offended. Ok here is my disclaimer:

>>>this has nothing to do with you personally!!! I still don't understand it all!!!Don't be offended, it's not you!!!<<<<<

ok.

(how do I do this)



So I was going to leave to go see him. But something stopped me in my tracks. I was standing in the kitchen, when I heard in my spirit,

that I was in danger. And not to go. J. would never ever do anything to hurt me or anyone else. He's such a good guy. So don't get me

wrong. It's a different kind of danger, it has to do with spiritual doorways. But I didn't understand that at the time, all I knew was, it

would NOT be a good idea for me to see him.

I didn't know what to do. So I just sat there and cried, turned off my ringer, and went to bed. Wait! Before I went to bed, I prayed, and I

heard in my spirit that at that very moment in time, God was "opening a door for me that would be safe to walk through, " and not to go

out with J.

Talk about confusion. Door?

I went to bed. Leah wasn't home, so I laid in her bed. (more comfortable than mine.) I wasn't asleep yet, when out of the blue, I was

covered in the presence of God. Fully. Completely. I froze. Never before had this happened, only during intense times of prayer. I was

covered in chills, head to toe, and His whole being filled me up, I couldn't even feel my own body. I kept my eyes closed and said,

"God?"

I heard in my spirit:

"Behold, I am going to show you something."



Yeah.

What do you do?

I said "ok God" and rolled over and waited. Then I fell asleep.

Before I tell you what he showed me, I have to go hang out with my sister and maybe take a walk. Maybe grab a beer. Something.

I will say, it was the most frightening thing I have ever experienced in my life.





So much for my walk. They already set the alarm & I don't know how to disable it. So I'm trapped in here.

What's wrong with this picture? I have no anxiety whatsoever. I feel good about this. What's up with THAT?



Ok. Just the facts, for now. I'll report what was shown to me. I'll explain later.

This was a vision, but I was asleep. To say it was a dream is to not give it credit. It was alive. It was amazing. I was there. Never had I

had a dream that vivid and alive. I've heard some people refer to these types as "night visions." Ok. That sounds about right.





Here is what I saw:

A female demon, pacing to and fro, on the service road that ran next to my house. Her head was down, I couldn't see her/it's face, but I

sensed that it was waiting for me, but it was denied access.

Next, I was in my car, and J. and Leah were riding with me. It was night, and I was going under the highway to get on it. There, in the

middle of the street, appeared the same female demon. She was acting silly. We saw her and laughed, and I said, "Look- it's me!" She

looked exactly like me, in 1988. When my hair was still long and wild. I looked at her and realized, she was trying to get my attention.

I kept driving, and then she appeared again in the road, sort of off to the side, under a bridge. She struck a pose, like she was

modeling. She looked at me and ran her hands through her long hair, shaking it around. She was trying to lure me to herself.



Now I found myself on the highway, J. and Leah still with me. I started driving fast, in the middle lane, with a sense of urgency. There

was danger in the air. I kept driving faster and faster. I was heading north on 35.

I looked in my rear-view mirror and saw this: she/it was now following me, right behind my car, on the left hand side. Fear struck me

deep inside, my heart was racing, I knew I had to flee, I knew she/it wanted to destroy me. The faster I drove, the faster she flew, unitl

she was right flush with the car. Flying. I turned and looked into her eyes. They were my eyes, but they were pure evil.

I was terrified. I began to make the car swerve to hit her, in an attempt to knock her out of the way. I kept doing this even though I knew

I was risking our own safety, but I had to, I kept hitting her, and for a moment she was gone. But I kept flying down the highway, running

for my life. Sheer terror is the only way to describe it.



I thought I had gotten rid of her. I noticed our location on the highway, it was right before you get to Oak Cliff. At this point I noticed

from the corner of my eye, the top of her head, sneaking around the back of the car, around to Leah's side, in the back. I knew she was

trying to go after Leah now, secretly. I saw the demon enter the car, right next to Leah.

And then I woke up.





Screaming. I woke up screaming. Sat up, noticed the sheets were drenched and so was I. I lept off the bed and turned on all the lights

in the house. I ran to the bathroom and shut the door and got on my knees and started bawling, shaking, heart pounding, saying, "God

what was that, God what was that," over and over again.

He let me calm down. And He let me know that this was something to come.

He didn't say how or where or why or when, He just said, this was a warning, and it was real. And that I was to pray.




I don't know when exactly it took place. When I acquired the familiar spirit. Come to find out, that's what it was.

I don't know if it was hanging out with me all my life, or what. I do know that in my teen years, I seemed to grow more and more

introspective and depressed and just...what's the word? Well, as the fighting between my parents escalated, and my dad's taking it out

on me intensified, I think during that time I started to slip. In my mind. In my emotions.

I would give anything to see a blueprint, a timeline. Something that lays it all out for me, step by step. No, wait. Scratch that. Next thing

you know I'll be having a dream of the whole story of my life and then I'd have to tell you all about it and then we'd never wrap this up

and I'll be 80 years old, still blogging, and you'll be all covered in spiderwebs and your teeth falling out one by one, and you're like,

"Oh please God oh please make her shut up..."



Well you know, I'm only telling people about what I experienced because it's true for us all, and what I've lived through is not out of

the ordinary at all. In fact my mom & I were just discussing this the other night. Actually she was discussing and I was crying. I said

"Mommy my life is so bizarre!" And she said, "No honey, your life is very normal. God just has a very special way with you." See? So

that's that. If I have had to deal with this stuff then you might too.

What was I saying? Oh yes. The world of demons. Well, come to find out, they are real. There have been several occasions when I've

had a "sighting" of this one in particular that looks like me. For one thing, my mom recalls seeing it when we still lived in Oak Cliff,

when I was about 7 years old. She said she saw me come into the room when she was sick, laying in bed, and it said something to her.

She sat up and it disappeared. She thought it was me, but then she thought she had imagined it.

Another time, when I was about 17, I was asleep in bed, and I sensed a presence over me, standing beside my bed, staring at me. I didn't

even open my eyes, I was afraid to, I just knew there was someone there. Finally I did it. I opened my eyes and there she/it was, leaning

over my bed, staring at me, watching me sleep? A girl. But the problem was, she/it was see-through. I screamed. It stood upright for a

minute, then turned, stopped in the middle of my room and appeared to do something like touching my clothing? My floor was covered in

my clothes. This transparent female thing was handling my clothes. Then it turned and looked at me, then walked away. Faded away. I

screamed and ran down the hall into my parent's room and woke my mom up, told her what I saw. She didn't know what to say. She said I

must have been dreaming or something.

Then, when I did the generational curse prayers, back in the early 90's, the night I completed the prayers I had a brief vision (but I

didn't know it was a vision at the time) of a female demon, it looked like me, it was laying in the leaves of the forest floor. I sensed

that it was laying dormant. Not dead, not asleep. Dormant. And that she had departed from me. Freaky, I know. You wouldn't believe the

crash course I got in the dark side. I'm telling you, I got a better education on those things than you'd get in Bible college.

Another time, in '98, I went to the trailer I was staying in, let myself in, tried to get into the bedroom, but the door was locked. I knew my

boyfriend was in there, but he wasn't answering. I started banging on the door, finally he got up, and he was pale as a ghost, and

shaking. He had a shotgun in his hand. Turns out, he saw me in the room that night, in the dark, walking toward the bathroom.

Transparent. But me, down to the last detail.

So as it turns out, I had an imposter. Something that somehow gained access to me a long time ago. I heard this can only happen if a

spiritual doorway was opened, but all I can think of as a child was playing with the Ouija board in Pam's apartment, and also seances

that she supposedly had us participate in. She also read our tarot cards to us. Then, as a teen, the emotional abuse junk, the sex, and

the drugs. I started trying various stuff here & there, never got hooked on anything, but liked the idea of experimenting. So as you can

see, it's not a matter of was a doorway opened or not, it's like, take your pick! And top it all off with the abortion, which the Bible

says is a form of child sacrifice.

Everything we do has a spiritual consequence. Drugs bend the mind and open it up to the demonic realm. Sex outside of marriage is

robbing God of a gift that's only His to give. Abortion is murder. Abuse and trauma crack open the mind and emotions and if you try to

exist all wounded there's no telling what kind of unseen infection you'll end up with.

Wait. What was I talking about? I think I was just summing up the whole "who I used to be" thing.




Cup 2~ fluid on the brain



"Pharmacopea"



The "night vision" warning took place June 15, '05. The next day, Thursday the 16th, I met my new friend/coworker. It was our very first

day to meet and work together. We hit it off instantly.

Good old Cox Farms Market. To most, a produce store. To me, a mysterious portal to the unknown.

The events started snowballing once I started at that place. I swear, it's some kind of vortex. It's a sham. Like the old porn shop in

that movie Blast From the Past. It's a facade. Who knows what really goes on there?



Working with the herbs. That's what I did. Sold a bunch and took a bunch.

"Do not abuse My herbs" is what I heard one time, when I took all my various vitamins and herbs and combined them into one big bottle,

losing track of what was what, just a grab bag of remedies, left it out on the counter and popped a few each day.



As it turns out, they are to be treated with respect. Herbs are the original form of medicine. Genesis points that out. They are

chemically suited to our bodies and they are gentle. Good stuff.

But the line gets fuzzy. There are some herbs that are recognized today for their effect on the mind, and no, don't worry, I'm not going

into my speech on weed. I'm talking about the seratonin-boosters and mood enhancers and such. I think the single herbs are good,

such as St. John's Wort, but only in small doses and ONLY as needed. But today you can find all kinds of high-powered combos at the

vitamin store, products that make claims to just really fix your whole head up. This is where we have to be careful, from a spiritual

point of view.

I should know. I would stock up on said combos and pop 'em like candy. No different than toking it up, really. I was "abusing" His

herbs. The Bible says taking any substance that alters our state of mind is a form of witchcraft. "Altering" is not just limited to getting

stoned. I can't say for sure where exactly the line is drawn, but the line is there for sure, and I can back it up.



My daughter has suffered from depression on & off, over the years, starting when she was 13. She was put on an anti-depressant by her

dad, and a few months later she was suicidal. She didn't attempt anything, but she was having thoughts, she was extremely depressed.

She came back to live with me in '04, after spending a few years with her dad, and right when she returned, she had her very first

anaphlyactic shock episode. She nearly lost her life. She stumbled out of the bathroom, blue in the face, saying, "Mommy I can't

breathe", then collapsed in my arms. I screamed for my dad to call 911. I had to keep her awake while we waited for the paramedics, she

kept nodding off and saying, "I just need to go to sleep..." She was covered in whelps from head to toe and her lips were swollen and

purple. When they arrived, they swarmed around her and it all happened so fast, I just remember seeing tips of syringes flying and they

were doing all this stuff to her, one of them asking me did she take any drugs, what is she allergic to, etc...none of which I could

answer. I was just dumbfounded. Her blood pressure was really bad, I don't remember the number but after they took it they brought in

the stretcher and loaded her up. I kept asking them what was wrong with her, and I didn't get an answer until I was riding in the front of

the ambulance, I asked the driver, "can you PLEASE tell me what is going on??" He said, "Your daughter is in anaphlyactic shock."

That's it. That's all he said.


"Pharmakea"



My toe. Did I ever mention my mother's guilt over it? That she said that she took a certain drug that was prescribed for nausea while

she was pregnant with me, only to find out later that several babies were being born with all types of deformities. Lots of lawsuits took

place and the drug was recalled. Or something like that.

It's assumed that my skeletal assymetry (as they call it) is a result of that. My mom taking that prescription. There's nobody else in

the entire family, on both sides, who have any type of deformity. My toe has no knuckle. I think I've already mentioned my unmet desire

to bend it.

Let's say that's the case. Then let's say, oh wow, about a month ago we discovered that my grandfather, the one I am a female DNA

replica of, messed with drugs. Mind-altering stuff. Not only that, but he too "worked with the herbs".

The Bible says that as far as generational curses go, the "sins of the father" extend down to the 3rd and 4th generation.

Let's say my grampa had some spiritual issues and some unconfessed sins. That would make me and Leah the 3rd and 4th in line to

inherit stuff. Let's also assume that what I was born with was a direct result of prescription drugs.



When I discovered the whole thing about breaking curses through prayer (actually just acknowledging things and asking Jesus to do

it), I had no clue who was shady in the family, I had no idea of who did what. I didn't want to know! How can you know everything,

anyway? So I just prayed for myself and Leah (Tommy somewhat fended for himself) (but I helped him out), after doing this, we were set

free from all kinds of stuff. That's a whole different story. But we were covered and it was done.

But did you know that your actions can open doorways back up? It's not like you get Jesus to bail you out and then you can be all

lazy and careless. It's our responsibility to STAY clean. Of course we screw up, so that's where His blood comes in. But when a

person who knows all of this, such as myself, but willingly lets their guard down, and doesn't heed warnings, and gets lazy....God will

not tolerate that.



I've been so busted it's not even funny.



You know what I just noticed? That the colors that I chose for this blog & the background are the exact same colors as my old snake

puzzle. Olive green and dark blue. Almost the same exact shades.

So do you see where I'm going with this one? There is a door, and it was opened. But I never noticed it. It all comes together in the

end. All 4 cups come together in one big thing. My Great Blowout.



This really is a puzzle for me to solve. Some of this is being shown to me now. And I had to ask God for that. He has been pressing me

to write about this and I've been resisting. One of my excuses was "I just don't understand it all." Well as it turns out, He sheds light

where it's dark, if you ask. No matter what.

Sometimes I'm afraid to pray. I'm afraid of what I'll see or what He'll tell me. That's fear. And fear comes from this nasty little thing

called SELF. Also from the enemy of course. But SELF is a huge enemy as well. Causes all kinds of trouble.




And then there's the spiders!



(I'm just giving you a moment. Are you wondering what on earth can I possibly say about spiders? Am I starting to creep you out?

Welcome to my world!)



This is just a little bit o'trivia for you, so you'll understand the very LAST spider.



About a year after I got married, we separated. During that separation, J. & I spoke. One night he knocked on my window, but I had

already fallen asleep. I heard the knocking and woke up, but he was already gone by the time I came to my senses.

The next morning I went outside and looked at the window. I don't remember why, but I do remember this: overnight, a HUGE spider had

spun a web, almost completely covering the window. I have no idea if it was there when J. was there, or if it got there afterwards, all I

know is, it was big, and scary, and I KNEW it meant something. Was it friend or foe? I felt like it was a big visual "NO". It represented my

protection. Don't laugh. I know signs when I see them.

Oh and just let me say, there was never any unfaithfulness in my marriage. For all of our troubles, there was nothing shady. I would

never. Neither would Tommy. I don't know why I've been asked that over the years, "was there any unfaithfullness?" Why do people

assume that? You know what? For all my experience as a girlfriend and a wife, not ONCE have I been unfaithful to anyone. It's a thing. I

can't. Even if I had no morals, I would never be unloyal to someone. I am so happy to say that I do have good qualities that I wasn't

dragged over the hot flaming coals of life in order to gain.

I guess I should mention, Tommy & J. never really got along. For obvious reasons. One moment I was engaged to J., next thing you know,

I'm walking down the aisle with Tommy. I don't even know how it happened.

I really need to hire a manager for my life.





Then of course there's the nice little brown recluse spider who came to my rescue, paralyzing my dad's vocal chords and preventing

me from ever being yelled at again by him.



Then there's the strange email, right out of the blue, from a friend. She was Leah's boyfriend's mom. Sweetest woman ever. She always

sent random emails and forward things with cute or uplifting sayings. On the morning of June 15, '05 (as you can see, that date is

permanently seared into my brain), J & I were emailing back & forth, and then...I got an email from my friend. It was called "God sends

protection from unexpected things" or something like that. I took the time to read it. It was a true story about a man who was hiding in a

cave from his enemies.

In the story, the man hides in the cave overnight. He thought for sure he would be discovered since the cave was known, and as it turns

out, his enemies DID come to the cave in the middle of the night, but passed it on by, didn't even take the time to go in, because after

the man went in, a big spider came along and spun a web that covered the entrance to the cave, making the enemies think there could be

nobody in there, seeing as how there was a gigantic web there.

This friend sent this email on the VERY DAY that I was shown the warning. And I knew it was God's gentle reminder, to not get back with J.

Again, we had no intentions on it, but you know how things are.

Spiders. Oh this is almost too much.



And folks wonder why I was such a nervous wreck at Cox Farms. They had no idea. And I'm not even halfway done! And I can't even tell

you everything.



God is so mysterious. He gives me a lot of detective work to do. And a foggy mind that can't process anything till I see it in my own

writing. I think that's why He gives me all these signs and clues to piece together, so I'll be forced to share it all.



Poor J. Best boyfriend ever. The reason is simple why I wasn't supposed to talk with him, I'm assuming God knew it would lead to more

and that wasn't in His will for either of us. But the warning dream, this turned out to be something else entirely. The reason why he was

with me in the dream is not what I thought it was.

I guess I should mention a little bit more about that. During this same time, I had a brief vision about J., something about his life. But I

knew not to say anything. Yet. Just hold it.



..ugh. now I'm starting to get confused.






My daughter went into shock several more times after this. She was prescribed an Epi-Pen and received a full and complete allergy

work-up, which said that she was pretty much allergic to EVERYTHING. For the next few years I got really good at dialing 911 and also

really good at the awkwardness of spending the night in a hospital room with my ex-husband. You'd think I'd be used to it, but it's a

strange thing. I would tell you about how his snoring kept me awake so he ended up sleeping in the small bathtub, which I conveniently

have photo documentation of, but that would not be right.

The last time we spent the night by our daughter's side in the hospital was not due to an allergic reaction, though. We slept on the

cold hard floor of her room in the ER, sometimes waking and staring at each other, baffled as to what was taking place, looking up at

our kid who laid in the bed, all the color drained from her face, having her system cleared out from her intentional overdose.

September 18, 2006. She was 15 years old.





"Pharmacopea"

...is what I heard in my spirit during prayer, a few weeks earlier.



I had no idea what God was talking about. I had heard the word before and sort of knew what it meant, but it was just one more thing to

learn about, and it had nothing to do with me personally, in my book.

I had recently arranged the vitamin cabinet in my kitchen, organizing all the herbal supplements according to use. It was my own little

pharmacy. And the cabinet was FULL. I got lots of free stuff from my work, and my daughter & I used them daily.



During this time, when we lived in Midlothian, I was really struggling with all kinds of depression and anxiety. It seemed like it was one

thing after the next. I complained to God that He kept showing me things, but at the same time, expecting me to carry on with the normal

workings of my life, and it was all too much. I was burdened and I was starting to crack.



I started to rely heavily on my herb collection. I had all kinds of mood blends and happy pills. I started popping them like crazy.



I never noticed the connection. I never put two and two together. I never took the time to ask God why He kept putting that word,

"Pharmacopea" on my mind. Perhaps I should have looked into it and prayed about it and ask Him, am I guilty of something here? But I

didn't want to know. As if I have a right to tell God how much He can show me.



Looking back now, the connection is there. All the way back to when my daughter was 13. Each time she went into shock, and each time

she was put on anti-depressants, I too was suffering from depression and taking lots of herbs. Abusing lots of herbs.



You are held accountable for what you know.

I am not taking a stand against anti-depressants. All I can say is, for me personally, there was a spiritual issue taking place, and the

thing is, even as we speak, it's not fully over. It has been a battle.



I'm not even close to being finished telling this.






Looking back on the night the measuring cup was given to me, I can actually laugh. I was such a nervous wreck. It was given to me by

the most high-quality individual I think I have ever met. I think that's why I tried so hard to connect with said individual. I saw

strength, and I wanted some. I think I wanted some of his. I'm laughing, as I type. I am pathetic.

It was a forced date. It wasn't even a date. It was my own desperate attempt to spend time with a sane individual. I tried to pass off as

normal but of course the truth came out, by the end of the night my mind had already sprung several leaks and I made a mess all over

his truck. And all I got out of it was a big fat measuring cup. Big enough to hold all of it.

I was going to leave it. That, or throw it at him. But instead I grabbed it. It was a souvenier for me. To remember the one evening, in a

period of, let's say, YEARS, that I hung out with someone who represented (at least to me) some real goodness. Not fake. Not sappy,

soft, nerdy man crap. (I detest overly-affectionate guys who sweet talk me.) No, here was a guy who was just as rude on the surface as

me, yet underneath was a wealth of something that I just had to investigate. I think I scared the living daylights out of him. It's true, I

WAS desperate. For someone to talk to. And in my mind, it was him, whether he agreed to that or not. Why negotiate? Seriously. I've lived

long enough in this tripped out existence of mine to know what's worth thinking twice about, and what's already a done deal. I made up

my mind that I was going to know this character. I didn't give him the choice.



I don't really have a valid reason for including this trivia in here, but it's just one more thing that took place during this time. You

have to get the whole picture. And again, I've discovered, what's details to me sometimes turn out to be bigger than what I thought. So I

just have to tell it all, and hope it all comes together in the end. I'm working on it.

How God expects me to be tactful and tasteful is beyond me. So far I don't think I've made anybody mad. I try not to. My ex-husband has

made a few sarcastic references to my writings but I quickly change the subject. I don't want to know what all he's read. Because I

don't want to talk about it. Why should I have to? I already did! Here! In blogs! See? It's fair.



Ok. I have to move on to the next cup now. This one is embarrassing. Very personal. But thank goodness, not creepy like the other

ones.

Good old freaking measuring cup.

Maybe I should have thrown it at him.





"This pure child was humble and sought no attention. I will lift you up. I will lift you up."

Cup 3~ swollen/inflamed brain tissue



This one is Top Secret. More so than the others, because I might as well have drilled a hole in my skull and poured polymer-resin

gloss on in. I am confessing.



Did you know that all this time, I have been recovering from a little bit of brain damage? Aside from the west nile. Aside from the fluid

build-up. Both of these really messed with my head. But have you ever felt as if your brain was hot? Have you ever felt a swelling and

an intense heat in there? I have. And it started the very day I decided to put my souvenier measuring cup to good use.



But first I have to back up.

You know how I was informed by God back in '03 that I was to lay down all of my artistic endeavors? To part ways with art as I knew it?

That He had something way better for me?

It goes deeper than that. Art was an idol for me. A big one. Art & I, we go way back. Way back to grade school where I was nothing

unless it was a rainy day and we had to stay indoors for recess and draw, that's when I had friends. I drew whatever they asked me to.

In my little diary from 1981, I said that I told the kids no, I will not do your drawings, or you'll never learn. Well that's not exactly true.

I remember the day I came home and wrote that.

I was already feeling sorry for myself because I wasn't invited to my friend's slumber party. Then, those same girls asked me to draw

pictures for them. I jumped at the chance. I drew for them all during recess. I even had requests from boys. I drew race cars and

cowboys for them.

Art gave me confidence. It was my band-aid. But it grew into a beast. It was my security and without it I was naked. Why did fitting in

socially matter so much to me? I have no idea. It never was an issue until the girls noticed my toe, that's how the whole complex

began. I developed this thing, this paranoia, constantly wondering what people were thinking or saying about me. I remember looking

forward to Tuesdays at school in the third grade. That was the day that we had a class called Guidance. We learned about all kinds of

good things, they were talking to us about feelings and feeling good about yourself and being kind to others. This was a whole new

world of learning for me. They were speaking a new and wonderful, although mysterious, language. So different from the typical

Catholic stuff they pounded into our young minds. And so foreign. I never heard any of this stuff at home. The teacher was putting my

loose thoughts and feelings into words. I was fascinated. And devastated when they stopped having it. It only lasted one semester,

then poof, it was gone. I still remember my bright yellow folder. I wrote in big capital letters "GUIDANCE" on it. Nobody else did. I

didn't know why.

So over the years, my whole identity formed around who I was as an Artist. It was a big deal. I thought, this is who I am. This is what I'm

good at. I am going to grow up and be famous and EVERYONE will want my art and I will be liked and I will be popular.

And I already told you that my plot somewhat panned out in high school, I was well on my way. My little Art IV award was proof. That was

all I needed. Art was my whole mission in life.

It earned me attention. The good kind. The kind you get before they ever can look deeper and find out what a nerd you really are. That

was my trick. Instead of waiting for ridicule (the wrong kind of attention), I soon figured out, I'll beat them to it. I will draw attention to

myself, and it will be on MY terms, not theirs.



So flash-forward to the fall of '06. I had only done one painting in years, that was a fish painting I did for my coworker/friend, who I

decided needed a bit of funky color in her life. She likes nice things. Like, pretty things. When I see a finely decorated home, I can't

stand leaving well enough alone. I have to leave my mark. People with good taste need strange art. It's a fact. See I am here on this

planet to bust people up out of their former way of thinking. You can thank me later.

Anyway. That's the only painting I did, and I knew it was ok, because I didn't create it to get back into art. I did it for her. God sees my

heart. Oh, wait. about that. Remind me to tell you about the peacock she saw in her driveway the day I gave her the painting.





There is a picture in the family albums of me, it was my birthday and the whole family, aunts & uncles included, went to Spaghetti

Warehouse downtown. They came out with a small cake for me and everyone busted out singing. I was shocked and mortified. I was

tricked. Nobody told me we were going there to make me a public spectacle. But I was. The whole room full of people were singing. I

started crying out of sheer humiliation. Then I slid right down my chair and under the table. (they still talk about this and laugh.) A

waiter came along and scooped me back up. He not only got me out from underneath the table, but he lifted me up off my chair, in full

view of the entire world, while they finished their song. In the picture you can see my aunt & uncle, Susie and Bundy, looking at me,

Bundy is amused and Susie is feeling sorry for me. They live in Midlothian now and I thank God for them, they've helped out so much

with Leah during this time. That's something else I've learned. To not take family for granted any more. But that's another blog.



In the fall of '06, I was praying, just a normal everyday prayer. And then I heard in my spirit that God had something to show me. You

just never know with Him. Could be good. Could be ominous. Could be something that makes me laugh, could be something that makes me

spend the rest of the day with wide eyes and a blank look on my face.

So I put my head down and waited. And then He showed me. The above photograph that I just told you about. I saw it. Just from out of the

blue, there it was. Hadn't seen it in years, never even thought about it.

He said, "Do you remember this?"

Then He said,

"This pure child was humble and did not seek attention. I will lift you up. I will lift you up."

(there was a definite emphasis on "I".)

I remained still. And waited. I said, "um...ok?"

That was it. I did not know what He was referring to. I thought He was patting me on the back for being so humble and pure. I thought it

was a reminder that He would always take care of me. This is where I mess up. I assume things.





Two days later, I laid in the bath and thought about that extra $80 that was sitting in my bank account. I was saving to have some

repairs done on my car. (The same car that is trying to die a slow death, as we speak.) As I soaked and thought about it all, I decided

that I deserved a treat. I considered how long it had been since I'd done a painting. I thought, after all I've been through lately, I owe

it to myself. Just for me. I won't sell it, I won't get back into art. I just want to get some tension out and do a nice big wild one. And so I

did.

I jumped out of the bath and drove to Michael's in a mad furious frenzy. I loaded up the basket with colors and picked out a nice white

canvas. And then...I made my way down the gloss aisle.

How I loved me some gloss. Polymer-resin. Liquid plastic. Absolutely gorgeous on a painting if you know how to do it right. You have

to know how to mix it (it comes in two parts) and you have to know how to pour it. Spread it around fast enough before it hardens.

Exhale on the air bubbles that rise to the surface, the air you let out is what makes them pop. Temperature in the house has to be

perfect. Yes you need proper ventilation but not too much, any wind or too much air movement will mess it up while it's drying.

Therefore I keep the windows closed. I always have. Thermostat has to be perfect. Warmer on a humid day. Anything less than

perfection will cause it to dry tacky and sticky and it's totally ruined. So I do my thing with no ventilation, then just close the door

and let it dry by itself, undisturbed.

I have been doing this for years. Mastered the art of polymer-resin gloss. In fact one gallery owner, when looking at my paintings, held

one up to the light and checked out the gloss. He said it looked better than if it had been framed in glass, that it was perfectly even.

Glass-gloss. Liquid Nails, it's sometimes called. But come to find out, it's also not so good for your brain. I always knew this, but

what art supply WASN'T bad for your brain? I had been inhaling paint and glue and clay and spray-fixatives for years. Not intentionally,

of course. But I just sort of figured I was immune.



So back to being in the gloss aisle. I went over to that beautiful purple box and picked it up. I was standing there, looking at the

price. $24. Just to gloss a painting. But so worth it. But as I stood there, trying to calculate the cost in my head, I just so happened to

turn the box over. I started to read the warning that is printed on the box. And that's when I saw it. This is the only time I have ever

seen a word LITERALLY jump out at me. I glanced at the warning, and I saw the words BRAIN DAMAGE in bold, when all the other words

around it were normal. It just lasted for a split second. It was in bold and the letters were large. It just sort of flashed in front of me.

Deep in my spirit I knew it was a warning. But I was determined that day. This was just one more thing I didn't take seriously.





Are you still with me?

Do you believe all of this?

Do you think I've gone off the deep end completely?




So I got to work on my painting. Nice big canvas. Solid bright yellow background. Then, running up through the center of the canvas I

created this splash of black and white and rich deep browns and dark blues, and the colors blended and swirled together, and I did my

thing where I throw salt on it, and it makes these little speckles of love in the paint. When I finished creating the main form, I took my

brush and splattered streaks of black all over it. Just shook the paint off the brush, and as usual, the end result was a painting that

looked like somebody got shot in front of. Nice and violent. How else am I supposed to get out my frustrations?

As I sat and watched it dry, I thought, maybe I should get back into painting, seeing as how I'm short on cash. These are the types of

paintings I used to do for the galleries, they sold. I thought, what's the harm in doing a few? For the purpose of earning money? How

can that be wrong? Artists all over the world were doing it, each and every day. I gave myself permission that day to get back into art.



After two days passed, it was time for the gloss. I didn't have anything to mix and pour it from, since once you use a container for that,

that container is done for. You have to toss it after that. I searched my kitchen and couldn't find anything that I could sacrifice. I

almost went to the dollar store to buy a pitcher, when all of a sudden, I remembered my big fat measuring cup. I kept it under the sink. I

didn't use it because it made me mad. But today was it's lucky day!

I mixed the gloss and as I did, I started to get dizzy. Which is rare for me. I poured it out onto the canvas and started spreading it

around, and as I did, I felt high as a kite. I thought I was going to pass out. But I kept going. The whole thing took me about 20 minutes,

and by the time I was done with it, and shut the door, and went outside to get some fresh air, I was ready to drop. My head started to

hurt. It was pounding. It felt strange. And...it started to feel HOT.



You know, I did tell my mom about the gloss when all this first happened, but like everything else, it was just theories. Each time I said

something to my mom about my situation, she said, "Let's just see what the doctors say." And so I did.

And made the very most of the time.



But wait! There's more!




I already had a compromised conscience when I loaded the painting up in my car. To take it to work. To show it off. And maybe sell it.

But it was more just to show it off.

So it's there in my car, and I told a few coworkers I brought one of my paintings. They had mentioned that if I ever did one again, they

wanted to see it. But I would have shown this one off, regardless. Do you see how carried away I get? I turn into a monster when I paint.

All my humility goes right out the window. Sometimes I wonder, do people even really like me, for real? What do they REALLY think? Am I

as annoying as I think I am? This is one more reason why it's good for me to lay low and keep myself down, all throughout life. In fact,

losing a limb or two would do me good. Anything to keep me frustrated and miserable. It's better than who I am when I think I'm just one

painting shy of World Domination.



I showed it off. Got the usual responses, compliments, questions, etc., and then it was a regular old day at work again. Stinking reality.



And then it happened. The headache from hell. I'm driving home that day, exiting the highway, when all of a sudden, my brain starts to

heat up again and swell, it felt like a searing hot balloon was in there, it was pounding, and I started getting dizzy. I managed to drive

home ok, but when I got inside the apartment, it exploded. My head was in the worst pain imaginable, a headache like nothing I've ever

felt before. I paced the floor and bawled and cried and started to panic, Leah was following me around saying, "Mommy what's wrong!

Mommy what can I do to help!" She watched me cry and finally collapse on my bed, almost on the verge of screaming, holding my head.

There was no Tylenol in the house. There was nothing for pain relief at all. Because of what Leah did several weeks prior. She took it

all. Along with everything else I had in our vitamin cabinet.




I found myself on my knees, begging God to take away the headache, asking Him what was going on.

And that's when I experienced an entire new side to my God. Never in my life have I felt Him so ANGRY at me. I felt the heat. I can't

explain it, but He came down on me hard. I was in trouble.

Normally I can plead my case and pray my way through a tough situation, asking for grace and mercy. It's not that those things were not

there for me. It's that I needed to learn this important lesson. Like a parent who whips up on the child they love enough to discipline.

That's what I got.

I kneeled there on the floor, bawling more and more, hearing Him say one thing after the next. That I had disobeyed Him. That I had

neglected to heed His warnings. That I allowed pride and vanity in once more.

As I felt His presence, I bagged up all my paints into a trash bag, ready for the dumpster, continuing to cry the entire time, my head

still pounding, Leah asking through the door, "Mommy are you ok?"

I not only loaded up all the paints, but the painting as well, and drove them to the dumpster. It was empty, so I tossed the painting on

in, face down, slamming it down in there. Then I drove back home, and faced God once more.

I felt His anger subside, and took this opportunity to plead my case. I said, "God I am breaking, I can't do this anymore. It's too much.

My life is too much."

He said, "Judgement has been set."

and

"You are going to be very ill, but I will save you."



I started bawling once more. I asked him what was wrong, and He said it was my brain. I asked Him to be more specific, and He said the

thing about fluid build-up. But I cut Him off after that. I didn't want any further diagnosis.

I then said, "God my life is too much, please fix it. You put so much into me, I have so much to say but no way to say it, I'm exhausted

and scared and broke and stressed, I can't go on like this. Please either take away my life as I know it, do whatever you have to do,

remove my arms and legs and make me immobile, give me a situation where I don't have to think about money or bills and just let me

share what You put into me to share, OR, make me normal, take all the spiritual stuff away, and give me a normal happy life, a family, a

yard and fun and food and a dog again. God I can't live in two different worlds at the same time anymore."

He said, "I will give you both."

?

So I took this to mean, I was going to meet my Prince, but then all my limbs were going to rot off, and I'd be a stump. I was like, "Thank

you?"

I really did think that. When He said that He was going to give me both, I really did think He meant, at the same time.

Am I missing something here? Like, a functional brain? Do you see why He has to handle me like I'm in kindergarten?

I finally calmed down, and thanked Him for not letting me get away with anything. And He said,

"You have chosen your purification."







...btw~ come to find out, He judged in my favor.


"Your thoughts toward Me are good, but you do not spend enough time with Me."

"I have so much to show you, will you not commune?"



Cup 4~ nervous breakdown



2005 and '06 were the most intense and amazing years for me, spiritually. I was flooded with dreams and visions. Flooded.

I knew it was coming, but I had no idea what to expect. God had me cornered in that little white house. He showed me so much during

that time. And a new thing started too. He started showing me things about other people. And what's more, I was supposed to tell them! As

in, find a way to roll it all up and let them know that the Living God had something to say to them. I was... baffled. I was like, God, You

have absolutely GOT to be kidding me. As if!

In the past, I had been given dreams and warnings of things to come, and I'd always share them when necessary. Most of the time it's

just so I can pray. He even told me that one time when I was freaking out about all of it. He said, "You must remember that I show you

these things so that you can pray." So it's not like I'm supposed to be some detective and figure out what it all means, it's more like,

He helps me know who and what to pray for.

But there are times when He shows me things that are specifically for other people, and He does not clue me in as to the meaning. This

started in '06. Hit me upside the head with a string of visions and dreams for this one guy, this interesting guy who made me want to grab

a banjo and run off with the gypsies. I tried not to flirt with him but he was too cute. It all sort of took off and next thing you know

we're talking and going out, not seriously, but you know. Then my head was flooded with vision after vision regarding him, and not only

that, but I had to tell him! Talk about confusion! How do I do that? And do I even want to? I was like God, he's cute, and I want to have

fun, nevermind the fact that I'm old enough to be his ...big sister?

But I had to do it. And I did. Blew my mind. It was during this time that I started to lose my balance a little. I started to hesitate when

going into prayer. I started to slack off. The truth was, I scared myself. I was in that little neighborhood where all kinds of

questionable things took place. It was all starting to get to be too intense.

One day I was just laying in bed, and I just churned out a short little half-way prayer, I just told God I loved Him, and left it at that.

And He said, "Your thoughts toward Me are good, but you do not spend enough time with Me."

Come to find out, that was the answer. Prayer. Too simple.

But I was blind. All I saw was how intense it was getting. I really didn't want to mess with it. I wanted to go at my own slow pace. I totally

overlooked the fact that in His presence is comfort. So what if He wants to show me stuff. I can take comfort in knowing it's all in His

will and He's got me covered, no matter what.

I knew all of this. But I still chose to let fear get hold of me.



Fear or no fear, that didn't stop God. He kept on whether I was up for it or not. He showed me so much. I was given a series of visions

regarding the times to come, one after the next. I wrote them down as I saw them. By fall of '06 I had an entire page filled up with them.

Up until this point in time, I just shared them here & there, but now it was pressed on my heart to do something more with them, to put

them all together, print them up and share them with a handful of people. Like, officially come out of the closet and be public.

Not only that, but it was also time to share the vision I had for J.



I was a nervous wreck. Anxiety waves flooded my entire being.

Because I chose to operate out of my own strength rather than take God up on His continual gentle call for me to spend more time with

Him in prayer.





On Friday, September 15, as I sat on my couch and sipped my tea, I wondered just how to tell J. what I saw. It was important. But I had no

idea how to do it. Call him? Go see him? Or, seeing as how his birthday was in a week, how about send him a birthday card. And just

sort of slip it in there. And that's what I did.

I was like, "Hi J., hope all is well, blah blah blah, and oh by the way, _____".

Yeah. Am I slick or what?

I don't even want to know what his reaction was. I don't even want to know.

I mailed this the next morning (couldn't email due to the fact that I had donated my computer several months earlier in a mad furious

determined frenzy to do away with the beast, once and for all) and that's when my heart started pounding. I started to get a feeling. That

something was up. And not in a good way.



On the morning of Monday, September 18, '06, as I sat down on the couch with my tea before I got ready for work, I heard in my spirit,

"Behold, the moment you have been waiting for is at hand."

This startled me. I wasn't praying. I wasn't thinking about anything. I wasn't even fully awake yet.

My heart started pounding. This sounded ominous. I thought about it. I was like, ok, WHICH moment?



And then it hit me. Suddenly it came into my mind, the warning dream, the scary one. The one that had been on my mind for a year. It was

still a mystery. I did pray about it on & off. I assumed I had prevented it from happening, seeing as how J. was with me in the dream. My

solution to seeing to it that this dream never came to pass was simply don't ever go anywhere with J. Ever.

But I still knew, deep down inside, that this dream was going to get me, one way or the other. See I handle things on different levels of

understanding, all at the same time. My mind assumes things. My spirit knows. My emotions are too scared to face reality and my body

caves in with waves of anxiety. This is pretty much how I handle every big thing in my life, even now. But this is going to change.

So the dream continued to haunt me, and on this day, the images contained in it would not leave my mind. All day long at work I had a

bad feeling. I kept thinking of the dream. I kept thinking of Leah. More than anything else, I was worried about Leah. No outward signs

of trouble at all, she seemed fine. But something was in the air, something was very, very wrong.

This was an important day for two other reasons as well: not only was the warning dream front and center in my mind, but on that day, J.

should have received his birthday card in the mail. The one with something important that he needed to know. Also on this day, I knew it

was time to write out all the visions that I'd been given regarding the times to come, and print them out, and share them with lots of

people. It was a day of coming out. Not something I looked forward to doing. But I had to. My anxiety flooded my entire body and by the

time I got home from work, around 4:00, it peaked.

Leah was in her room with her friend. I changed clothes and got something to eat. But I couldn't eat. I was too on edge. Leah asked me

what was wrong, and I said, "Leah I need to take a drive. I need to go out to Val's so I can use her computer to print out something. I'll

be back later."

This was the first time I had ever left her alone at that place, my apartment in Midlothian. But it was ok, since she said she and some

other kids were going out to eat. And that they would be here in about 30 minutes. So I left with a good conscience, knowing she'd be

out having fun and not there alone.





As I drove down the highway, my heart began to pound again. I felt a sense of urgency and I had no idea why. I felt the need to hurry.

I never speed. It's hard for me to speed. But on this day, I started to fly down the highway. I needed to do this. I felt like it was a race

against time, and there was no way I could have ever explained it. I had to do this. I had to write these visions out and I had to print

them out. 10 copies, that's what God said. He even informed me as to who should get a copy. A few were folks I hadn't seen or spoken to

in a while, and one of them didn't even know this side of me, so I'm sure when they got it, and read it, they were like, "what?"



So I make it out to Lewisville and use my sister's computer. Then I grabbed my keys to leave. She asked me why on earth am I leaving

so soon? I just got here! And I said, "Val something is up, I shouldn't have even come out here tonight...I don't know, but I have to get

home..."

I flew back down the highway, and once in my town, I did two things before going home: first thing I did was go by the post office and

mail the things I printed. This was important, I knew that it was now, that if I waited, I wouldn't get it done. Then, I drove by my friend's

house, who knew what I was doing, I had told her earlier that I was printing it out, and when I was done that I'd give her a copy. So I

drove over there and she met me in the driveway. I gave her a copy and as we stood there and spoke, I got more and more nervous, and

she asked me what was wrong. I told her I don't know, but I had to get home. She prayed for a minute for me, then looked at me and said,

"Amy I just hear in my spirit, "FEAR NOT." I started to cry a little. My comforting friend. For real. So I got into my car to pull out, when

her grandkids come running at me to tell me hello. I think those two gave me the only smile on my face all day. I just wanted to do

something nice for them, something, anything. I couldn't come up with any funny or nice words, so I thought, maybe I have something

cool I can give them. All I could find was a bookmark I had made a long time ago, with a hand-painted cross on it. I gave it to my

friend's granddaughter. Then I looked for something for the boy but my options for that were severely limited. As cool as I am, I just

don't always have the evidence to back it up. I told him that I was sorry, I just didn't have anything. That's when he said, "Oh! Wait Miss

Amy! I have something for YOU!!" And he ran into the garage. A second later he returned with this plastic gold token, it hung on a purple

ribbon to be worn around your neck. The token had praying hands on one side and a cross on the other. I took it and teared up and

thanked him sincerely. Kids are amazing.

I told them bye and my friend reminded me to "FEAR NOT" once more as I pulled out of the driveway. I wrapped the token around my

gearshift and it served as my reminder to trust in God, no matter what. It lived on my gearshift for a while, then when I came out to my

mom's after my mental blowout, it hung from the switch on the floor lamp in my room. It's important. I don't take these things lightly. You

know what? When a child gives you something, keep it. Because kids are sincere. They give from the heart.



I made it home, and ten minutes later Leah arrived. Her friends had dropped her off. She came and sat beside me on the couch. She

looked at me. Her eyes were huge and round. She hugged me. And then she broke down crying. And then she began to panic. And then she

started wailing, saying, "Mommy I did something...Mommy I did something bad...Mommy help me...."




My daughter decided to end her life that day.

When I left the apartment earlier, her friend only stayed a few minutes after that, then Leah was alone. She said that she was standing in

the kitchen, and out of the blue, literally from out of nowhere, she felt the overwhelming urge to overdose. She says it was a like a

dark, oppressive cloud that just came over her, it weighed her down and she said it was heavy and scary and all she could think about

was taking her own life. She felt like she couldn't take one more breath, that it was time to go. She has tried to describe this feeling to

me, and I sort of understand it, but not really.

She says she just opened up the cabinet and she started with the Tylenol, taking about 11 of them. Then she moved on to the Advil,

about 8 of them. Then regular aspirin, and as if that were not enough, she also took several Benadryl and then a variety of

supplements, just anything. And then her friends got there, so she left.

All of this came out later, the details of what was going through her mind and what all she took. But when she first told me that she had

overdosed, she was panicking and frightened out of her mind. She was hugging me and begging me to help her, saying that she didn't

want to die...

I have no knowledge of how to overdose, and I was so shocked by all of this, that it took me a few minutes to process the reality of it

all. Instead of immediately calling 911, I called my friend and told her what was happening, and she said by all means call 911, this was

bad.

I don't function well in these kinds of situations. For some reason I freeze up and I can't think. It took all I had to call for an

ambulance that night. However I did have the presence of mind to give her a few charcoal capsules.

They came and took her away. My friend came and got me & drove me. (I literally cannot drive under stress, trust me, it won't work.) I

called Leah's dad and told him what was happening, and he met us up there.



When the paramedics were at my apartment, there was a cop with them. And there were a few questions about drugs. I had to tell these

guys, no, she's not on anything except a year's supply of Tylenol.

They took her to the ER where they started an IV that was going to flush her out. She was pale and her lips were blue and she was

shaking. She began to vomit black and purple. This lasted all night long.

I stayed by her side and told her how much I love her. I stroked her hair and held her hand. But you know what? More than anything

else, I was angry at her. But I had to keep that in. Now was definetely not the time.

She cried and kept telling me how sorry she was. How stupid she was. How scared she was. At one point she said, "Mommy am I going to

die?"

As we spoke in the ER, I was able to ask her some things, and that's when I found out about the feeling that came over her in the

kitchen. This was all coming together in my mind. It was dawning on me what had just happened. You'd think I would be relieved to know

that this was something God saw a year earlier, but no, at this point in time, as I watched my daughter lay in that bed, I was terrified.

Knowing what had attacked her.

How could this be possible? What did it mean? More importantly, was this all my fault? Had I been careless, was there something I could

have done to prevent it?

God provided all of these answers and more, over the next several months, and just recently He has flooded the whole thing with so

much light that it's all clear now. My mystery is plain as day.





After the night in the ER, she was put in ICU for about 6 hours until they deemed her ok enough to go to a regular room. There was a

nurse who sat in the doorway the entire time, with her back to us, at a computer. She looked at Leah frequently. The door remained

propped open the whole time. I found out that Leah was on suicide watch. I said, "Even with me here?" Yes. I also noticed the

suspicious looks on their faces when they found out she was there because of an overdose. At one point I was called in to discuss

everything with the head nurse of the children's ward, in fact she was more than a nurse, she wore regular clothes and had a nice

office and she told me to sit down and tell her what was going on. Looking back, I think they were checking me out to make sure my

daughter didn't live in a bad environment.

I told the woman all about Leah, how she is this and that, straight A's, lots of friends, has struggled with depression before but this

was totally unrelated. There were no signs of trouble when this happened, it really was out of the blue. Of course when discussing all

of this I always omit spiritual things, I would never even think to talk like that around medical people. They have their job and I have

mine.

I am well-balanced enough to understand that this life on earth is not just compromised of the spiritual. When an event takes place,

several elements are involved. That's how I described it to Leah. She was confused as to what happened to her, so a few months later I

told her parts of what was shown to me, but not in a disturbing way. I wanted her to understand that this was a matter of spiritual

warfare, HOWEVER, we can only be attacked in the areas where we are vulnerable. The spiritual side is just one side. My daughter was in

need of some good wholesome teenage counseling, and she got it. We found a perfect counselor for her in Midlothian, they clicked

immediately and Leah began a weekly thing with her. This was needed anyway, and she was finally ready. She was able to get some good

guidance as she sorted through her past. I had tried before, but didn't get anywhere. You know, as parents, one of the best things we

can do for our kids is know your limits. Don't play like you know it all. We don't have all the answers. And we do make mistakes. And

there are other people out there~ teachers, friends, relatives~ there are others who have strengths where you are weak. I have

learned to receive advice. I also had to learn how to let go.





Her system was flushed, but she remained pale and drained and totally out of it. It was not my kid. Her dad & I did all we could to

comfort her, but at the same time, we were so taken aback by the whole thing, we were silent in there more than anything. There were long

periods of time where all you could hear was the clock ticking.

My mom came up there and sat by Leah's side while Tommy got some lunch and I took a walk. I didn't want to eat. I just needed to walk

around and think. I wandered until I found an empty waiting room. I sat. I stared into space. I closed my eyes. I cleared my head. I said

a quiet prayer to myself.

And then I knew what I had to do.

I reached into my right pocket. There was a folded up piece of paper in there. It was one of the copies of the thing I printed out, the

visions I needed to share. I thought to myself, this is war.

I took the paper, folded it up small, and tucked it in between two couch cushions. Littered.

I decided that I would not stop serving my God, no matter what. I decided that I would not be intimidated. I decided that nothing would

stop His will for my life. I was going to do what I had to do. And I knew at that moment that I was taking a risk. My daughter lay hooked

up to an IV and she was still pale and sick. I knew this was a battle. And I also knew that victory belongs to us, if we have Christ.

I left my mark, hidden away in the couch, for some unsuspecting soul to find some other day. And then I went back to Leah's room. I

asked my mom to please go away for a minute. I called Tommy to make sure he wasn't coming back just yet. I waited till the nurses were

done with their last round of checks on Leah.

And then, I did it. I went and stood beside my daughter, taking her limp hand in mine. I held on to it tight and I told her how much I loved

her. Her eyes were closing, she was trying to drift off into sleep. I put my hand on her head. I said a silent prayer to myself. I said,

"Please help. Please help us, God."

I heard Him say in my spirit, "Just say the word."

I knew what He meant. I had been avoiding this.

I was to pray specifically about the demonic force that He showed me in the dream. I did not want to do this. But He said, just say the

word. So I took Him up on it.

I prayed in a low voice, both hands on Leah. She trembled underneath my hands. I lifted my kid up to God. I started off with the Lord's

Prayer. Then I said, "Lord set her free. Please set her free." That's all that could come out of me. My strength was limited.

As soon as I finished, Tommy walked in. Leah opened her eyes, and bolted up. She sat up and the color returned to her face almost

instantly. She looked at me and smiled and said, "oh Mommy I feel SO MUCH BETTER!!"

I took a step back and stared at her. Tommy said "Well hi there, Little Bit! What took you so long to join us again?"

Oh boy.

You know if I had a quarter for every miracle I have experienced on this planet I would be rich. Oh, wait, I already am rich. I got me

some Jesus!






In the warning dream, the demon snuck into the car on Leah's side as we were heading north on I-35, right as we approached Oak Cliff.

On the day she overdosed, I left the apartment at 4:00 and headed north on I-35, that would put me near Oak Cliff right around 4:25~4:30.

Leah's friend left minutes after I did, and that's when she did her thing. That's when the darkness came over her, when she was alone.

She took a few minutes to write goodbye letters to everyone, then went into the kitchen and did what she did. This would have been right

around the same time I was approaching Oak Cliff on the highway. It all fits together.



In the dream, my old self, my old identity, a familiar spirit, old vices, you name it, I don't know what to call it....in the dream, it had

been trying to lure me back. When I resisted, it began a full pursuit against me. The painting says it all. Other things too, other issues

that I had been dealing with as well. But I'll tell more about all that later. I'm just trying to stick to the point for now.



But that's not all. In the dream, J. was with me in the car. Over the years, I've had many "car dreams", and my car represents my life.

Sometimes I'll have a flat tire in a dream, or a broken rear-view mirror, or the locks don't work, etc. These things help show me what

areas of my life are in need of attention. Sometimes I'll have a good car dream, such as the vision I had in '05~ I saw me downshift into

second gear and accelerate, I heard the car motor rumble and I was gaining momentum, but as I did this, I saw a female demon appear

above the gear shift, screaming. Angry. As usual, I overlooked the fact that there was a demon in my car, and just patted myself on the

back, focusing on the fact that I was accelerating. How does God put up with me? Will He ever run out of patience with me?



So the fact that J. was with me in the dream simply represented the fact that he was "with me" in spirit, connected, at that point in time. I

had just told him something, and he was on my mind. I prayed for him on a regular basis. The dream was a warning that when these

elements all come together, Leah would be attacked. It was about timing. And it served me well.

If I had not seen the warning, I would not have handled the situation like I did. I was scared, but at the same time, I had peace. I knew

that God was in control.



When we arrived home, we had to stall Leah while I ran in to confiscate these letters she told us about. We decided to get them and

give them to her new counselor. Leah was not happy about this, but oh well. So Tommy kept her occupied outside while I went into her

room and grabbed them. I came back out, smuggled them over to Tommy, then we stood on my patio while Leah got all situated inside.

It was a beautiful day. I remember that. As Tommy & I talked, I noticed something behind him. On the metal railing. It was big, brown, and

hairy. And it moved! I realized that I was looking at .....A TARANTULA!!!! I screamed at the top of my lungs and grabbed Tommy, who said

I almost gave him a heart attack, he was jumping around, saying, "What?? What??" I screamed and pointed, I couldn't get the words out.

He looked at it and said, "It's just a tarantula, you want me to kill it?"

What kind of question was that? I said I don't care what you do with it, just make it go away! He knocked it down with a stick, and you'd

think it would run away, but it didn't. We looked over the railing to the ground below, and there it was. In the grass. Still. And it was

HUGE. I had not seen a real live tarantula in years.

Tommy said it would go away, so he didn't finish it off. After saying goodbye to Leah, he left. I looked over the railing once more.

Still there. In the same spot.

A while later, Leah & I left to pick up her prescription, and when we returned, it was STILL THERE. In the same spot. Freaking creepy

spider. My furry sign from God that this in fact was real, that I was not imagining things. My warning had come to pass.



I thanked God for my sign and grabbed a brick and finished him off.

Two days later, as I was backing out of the driveway, I saw something underneath my car. I got out to see what it was. It was him. The

spider. Dead, legs all neatly folded up like a crab. Under my car. Out of all the cars to end up under, it chose mine.

I really didn't want to kill it. I knew it meant no harm. But I did it for myself. When I dropped the brick on it, I heard in my spirit,

"It is finished."





...how bout THEM cookies?

You like my cookies??



but wait! there's more!




While Leah was in the hospital, I layed down on this bench thing that was in the room and closed my eyes. She was going home now, all

was well. We were waiting on them to come unhook her from everything.

As I layed there, I had this vision: I saw myself at the top of a hill. I held a piece of fruit in my hand. I rolled the fruit down the hill,

like you would roll a bowling ball. It went down, all the way down, but just as it was about to hit the very bottom, the valley, it lept

over it~ it just sort of skipped over the lowest part, the place where you'd think it would get stuck. But it kept going, and began to

roll, all on it's own, up the next hill. On it's own momentum. Defying gravity. It rolled up and up and to the top of the next hill, where

there was a line of trees. The fruit rolled through the treeline and out of my view.



When I saw this I knew, she would be just fine. That God was taking care of her, and giving her strength. But I also knew, she would be

leaving me once more.

But you know what? I have total peace. I know she is safe and sound with her dad, who loves her more than words can express. He told

me today that he was listening to Bob Seger's "Like a Rock", and it brought back memories of him holding Leah up above his head, like

he did when she was little. He said that he understands that song now, more than ever.

Thank God for Daddies. What would the world be like without them?





The day after we returned home, I was laying on the couch again, trying to get some much needed rest. My eyes were closed, and there

was another vision. Wait, first I have to say, I had been crying about everything. Crying about Leah. Knowing she was growing up and

away.

And then I saw it: Two visions, one right after the next. I was shown that I have two more children.

First I saw a teenage girl. She looked identical to me, but with dark hair. She looked at me with such intensity and curiosity I could

feel it in my bones. She had on a sleeveless red sweater, so I saw her arms. They were my arms. She appeared to be in another place. I

knew instantly that this was the child from 1988.

A girl.

I was amazed. But that one is too much to comprehend.



The second one was puzzling to me. I saw a teenage boy, but he was most definitely NOT in another place, he was right here, with me. He

had my color hair, sort of wavy, and he had a smile on his face, as if he were laughing at me. I sensed laughter and I wanted to laugh

with him! He was dressed all casual and stood with his hands in his pockets. God showed me that this was my son.

???



For months after this one, I naturallly assumed that I would have a step-kid or something. That may be the case, but this kid was not a

step-kid. This was a mystery to me, seeing as how I had my tubes tied a year after Leah was born. And I never had any intentions of

undoing them.



There's more. Over the years I've had many "baby" dreams, and it's always a boy that I'm holding.

I just assumed that this was symbolic for "new life" or something. (wrong!)

Then, in '05, a minister said to me, "God says to you Amy, that He wants to bring you to a place in life, where He can birth new life

inside of you."

I took this to mean, healing and what-not. (wrong!)



Then, about a month ago, I had a vision of a baby boy, (cute! and blonde!) in a carrier on my mom's dining room table.

I assumed it was one of my sister's twins. (wrong!)



Then, the month following my ozone therapy, I started noticing some physical changes in me, things I haven't experienced since before

I had my tubal.

I assumed my body was adjusting to getting all better & what-not. (so very very wrong!!)



Then, a few weeks ago, God straight-up pulled me out of bed and had me pray, that He had something to tell me.



I wrote it all down, word-for-word. I can't post it here, it's too precious.



But boy howdy, is He ever going to bless me!



God is the God of all comforts. He heals and restores! He really does!

...do you know how hard it is to keep all of this to myself? What am I supposed to do with it all???







Something I forgot to mention about the ozone therapy: right before they did it, I got sort of nervous and went to the bathroom. It's a

thing that goes back to getting shots at the doctor's office as a child. I always found a way to buy more time by telling them I had to

use the bathroom. To this day, it's an automatic physical reaction: enter doctor's office, need to pee. It's a real phenomenon and it

remains with me to this very day. I even did it yesterday at the hospital when they were about to put an iv in my sister's hand. One look

at the needle and I was heading to the potty.

Anyway. They were waiting for me, the ozone folks, but I said wait, I need to go. But the truth is, for once in my life, I didn't go. What I

did instead, when I got into the bathroom, I needed to pray. It just came over me, and I found myself asking God to bless this treatment

according to His will, that He will bless my body however He chooses with it.



I guess you know what happened next. I started to mentally come undone, slowly but surely, the symptoms began to escalate and my

head got worse and worse, until December 16, '06, when my mom came and picked me up from work and took me to the ER, and so began my

9-month vacation.




Like a criminal who's handed 4 convictions, that's what I was. And I got to serve my time in style, with every luxury I could possibly

want: no arms or legs,(no car, no money, no way to do anything but sit and write), somebody else worried about the money, and the

ability to finally, once and for all, share the things that were inside me.

I am not a lazy slacker. I would not have survived mentally if I would have kept going like I was. And it's all about to crank back up

again, my car is on the verge of being fixed, or at least legal to drive. And on that very day, and not a day later, I am saying goodbye

to this computer AND I MEAN IT.



Are you bored yet? Or is this good stuff? I always wonder. I would love to know what people think about this wacked-out life of mine.

But for some reason I can't talk about it in real life, so I never know. In fact most people have no idea what really goes on in my head,

you know, casual acquaintences. But I have a feeling that's going to change, and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't hide

forever. I have to be a big girl and move forward.

Years ago I was told that God was "preparing me for the ministry". I was baffled at this, how? Me? As if I would EVER go to Bible

college. You couldn't pay me a million bucks to sit and hear somebody else's instructions on how to serve God. He plucked me up

when I was 17 and has taught me everything on His own, so it's very hard for me to trust people. This is why I have a hard time with

church. But that's also on my list of things I need to change. But what would be even better than a formal church membership: being a

part of a Bible study group. Home-grown. I see food. I see people and laughter. I see kids. And most importantly: I see my chocolate

chip cookies. Yes. Mark my words. One day, I am going to be an active part of a Bible study group, and I am going to make my cookies

every time, and I will get to hear it the rest of my life, how good they are. Living proof that I can cook.

That's exactly how I see myself "ministering". I know I need to start interacting with other people more, especially Christians. I

already know what the very highest calling of my life is. Spiritually speaking, it's not dreams or visions or words from God. You know

what the most noble and selfless and important thing any human being can do for God is? Prayer. Intercessory prayer. That's it.

Prayer for other people, in my mind, is the highest endeavor and I think it's the most powerful thing a person is able to do. I am moving

through and past all of this stuff, learning, and looking to the future of my life. I am only 38. So that makes me realize, there must be

new and higher mountains to climb. I told God that I wanted to start focusing more and more on prayer. It's simple. It's free. You can do

it from the comfort and safety of your home. And! Get this! It might keep you out of all kinds of trouble. I, for one, plan on avoiding

more trouble.





Wait, there's more.





Oh I forgot to tell you about the 4th cup, my little nervous system failure. I deserved every bit of it. It happened as a result of my not

spending enough time in prayer. He offered it to me. He warned me repeatedly that He had a lot to show me. He asked me to come into

prayer over and over again. So it makes perfect sense that I would be allowed to crack up a little.

By the time I crash-landed at my mom's, I was a real mess. Swollen head, seizures, limping, dizziness and confusion, general stupidity,

and last but not least, an emotional basket case. I cried when the wind blew. I cried when people talked to me. I cried when the cat

looked at me.

All of this was one big blurry confusing mess. My head was filled with fog. How do I handle everything I went through, and now this~ a

mental crisis. I am thankful for the timely seizure medication, it worked, and after 6 weeks on it, they never returned. The MRI's showed

a small mass in my brain, which remains a mystery. They say it's not a tumor. They say it's not MS. They said it could be demylenating

from the west nile, that viral brain infections can do the same thing MS does. They also say it could be scarring from the seizures. And

then you have the doctors (including the very first neurologist that I saw) that insisted it looked like an old head injury. I said no,

the only time I ever hit my head was in 1987, but I had a helmet on. But it's funny that the scarring (or whatever it is) is right were I hit

my head. They asked me about it and I just went blank. How do you tell doctors that a helmet was put on your head just moments before

you were sent crashing into the corner of a table? So I didn't. I chose not to. I just said yes, I have hit my head before, but I was

wearing a helmet.

Who knows?





Now I have to tell you about the lizards and the snake.






When I told my little sister this, she said, "Man Amy you just don't get a break, do you?" No! I don't! That's what I've been trying to say

all this time!

This is what I dreamed about two weeks ago:

I saw two pet lizards inside an aquarium, it was done up all cool, with rocks for them to climb on and plants and everything. One was

light green and the other was striped, red and yellow I think it was.

I looked at these lizards and I knew the green one was me. Then, I placed a small black viper in there with them, knowing full well it

would not be a good idea. Sort of like when I had a small aquarium a few years ago, had some Mollies. Then I got bored and wanted to

see if Leah's Betta would get along with them. I had heard that Bettas can be mean, but the Mollies were bigger, so anyway, I tried it.

Nothing happened at first, the Betta just sort of lurked in the bottom corner, so I was like, see? They do know how to get along with

other fish!

I left the room for a little while, then came back, and the Betta was in this bizarre dominance thing with a Mollie. It just sort of hovered

above it, looking down on it, like it had the other fish in some kind of trance. It was mentally controlling it. I am telling you, it was the

weirdest thing I had ever seen happen in an aquarium. The Mollie was terrified. It didn't move. It was frozen with fear and they just

hovered there, and as I watched this scene, I thought, maybe I should help the Mollie out. As soon as I took a step back to get the net,

all hell broke loose, and next thing you know, the Betta is biting at the fins of not just that Mollie, but the others as well, it was

darting all over the place and biting the other fish in a mad murderous aquatic frenzy.

I... I knew this was my fault. By the time I got the Betta out of there, a few Mollies had significant fin-damage. One of the fish I had to

flush. He got bit on the back.



Just so you know about my little problem with getting bored and experimenting. It's a thing. Anyway, in this dream, the two lizards were

just fine, that is until I tossed in the black venemous snake. It did the exact same thing the Betta did at first. It just sat there, all

coiled up, and watched the lizards. I knew this was a bad snake when I put it in. In fact I have no idea why I put it in there. Although it

was small (small enough to fit in the palm of your hand), it was deadly, and I knew it.

And whattya know, a few moments later, and it happened. The viper attacked the green lizard. It snuck up and sunk it's fangs into the

lizard's back, and I watched in horror as the poor lizard cried out in total anguish, lifting it's head up and opening it's mouth and I

knew it was in pain. This took place as the other lizard watched. I knew if I tried to do anything, I and the other lizard would get bit.

Like what happened when I tried to reach in and fix the fish problem. Sometimes you are stuck. There was nothing I could do but watch

this painful thing happen to the lizard.

Upon waking, I had a brief vision, I saw the old snake puzzle, it was blue and green and stretched out, waiting to be solved. I heard the

words "Snake Puzzle."



So I sat up and cleared the fog from my head and looked up into space and without even thinking twice, said, "Ok God, I'm on it."

I am slowly but surely getting good at this. Less time pondering, more time thinking things through, for real. I've discovered there's a

real difference.





All day long those lizards and that snake were on my mind. I prayed about it. But I still didn't get it.

Val & the boys went somewhere, leaving me here, all alone with my symbolic reptiles. I ate. I myspaced. I prayed. I layed in the sun on

the trampoline. Then I came back inside and sat down and thought long and hard about it. I said, "God I can not figure this out."

Just as I said that, I noticed a book on the end table. It's called The Bible in Pictures For Little Eyes. Used to be Leah's. Now it was

being read to these kids. And now, apparently, it was for my little eyes.

I picked it up. The pages are filled with colorful illustrations. I like it. In fact I think I'm going to read the whole thing. After my new

anger management book that is. (about that, I should probably start a whole new page just for that book. We can all read it together. I

will read, then report and offer my insight. In fact that's a really good idea, why should I have to learn all that alone?)

So I sat there and flipped through it. Then I got bored with it & put it back down, got up and walked away, that is until I heard in my

spirit that He had something to show me in there.

I went over and picked it up again and just opened it up to a random page. Wait, let me go get it. Ok. Page 58 is the one I just so

happened to open up to. And lo and behold, I saw a picture of these miserable Israelites, they were all getting bit by these poisonous

snakes.

I was like, "what?" For some reason I don't remember anything about this.

Here I'll just tell you what the page says.



Can you see all the snakes in this picture? Do you know why they are biting the people? It is because the people have been bad again.

So God has sent these fiery snakes to bite the people, and many of them are dying. These people came to Moses. They said, "We have

been bad. Please ask God to take away the snakes."

It then goes on to say how Moses helped them out.



So I looked it up in my Big Girl Bible. Turns out, God sent the snakes because the people were complaining. They had been wandering

for years and they started to doubt everything and forget all of God's blessings and promises.

I prayed and God said, "Do not complain against Me."



But that wasn't all. There was more to this puzzle. There had to be, since this was a simple enough answer. That wasn't even a puzzle.

Well I guess it was, come to think of it, seeing as how God had to use a children's book just to get me clued in.





The very next day, I dreamed this:

I was walking through a long dark tunnel, but I knew I was at the end. Light was coming in, so I was able to see some of the hurdles and

obstacles. As I turned the corner, almost at the exit, I saw a child running ahead of me.

This child was not afraid. He ran to and fro, looking under things, searching, exploring. He was curious and joyful. As he looked

around, he looked under things, and I didn't know what he was searching for. He came to a rock and lifted it up, and when he did, a huge

demon flew out from under it. I saw the face, it was the usual~ big, red, scary, angry. It flew out and up and over us, it was scary, but

as soon as the boy saw it he ran and pushed a big red button. I think it was a panic button, or a stop button. Whatever it was, as soon

as he pushed it, the demon disappeared.

I watched this and realized, all of this was like a game. The hurdles, the obstacles, the hide & seek and now the button. I realized that

this child wanted to play and he was not afraid. When he pushed the button, the presence of God filled the place, and more light came

in. The boy was eager for more, but when I realized there were demons to be found, I started to back track. As God spoke with the boy, I

quietly started to turn around and go back down the tunnel, hoping I wouldn't be noticed. I was walking up a slight incline, back into

the dark, when I heard the voice of God:

"...And I will not let the little one on the stairs go, until she finds one of her own."



I stopped in my tracks. He saw me sneaking off. I was busted. I most definitely did not want to play this game.

But since it was God talking, I decided to turn around and finish my course. As I walked toward the lighted exit, I knew I was about to

find a demon, and it was really scary. That's when I woke up.



Oh, one more thing. The shape of the tunnel had the same bends and turns in it as the stretched out snake puzzle.

I realized, I was inside.





"...the little one on the stairs..."



The problem with that was, there were no stairs. I was on a ramp.

And then God brought to my mind a recent myspace page I did, the one with all my grandfather's letters on it. The background image I

chose is one of my favorite paintings. It's a big snake, sliding down the stairs, in a mysterious house. Wait! I just realized....red

doors!

Like in my bathroom dream!



Oh my...

Well about the picture, there is a big fat snake on the stairs. I was like, "What are You trying to say here, God?"



Another day passed. I was troubled. Really troubled. I prayed. I cried. I could not solve this snake puzzle for the life of me. And now

I was really starting to get creeped out.



See I was afraid to get the answer to the puzzle because of the whole demon thing. He said I couldn't go (this time come to a complete

end) until I found one of my own, or on my own, I'm not sure which. I don't want to find any more demons.

But finally I broke down and I was like, Ok! Just tell me! Fine! Show me! I'm looking for one!

I was really scared. This is not the kind of prayer I like. God said, "get up and go look in the mirror."



I stayed put. I thought maybe I misheard Him.

He said it again.

So I did. I got up, trembling and afraid, and went into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror, all prepared to see a huge floating glowing

red demon behind me, or in the bathroom somewhere, or in the sink....

And I waited. I didn't see anything but me.

I said, "Ok God, I'm here, what are you going to show me?"

He said, "What do you see?"

And I said,

"All I see is myself!"







...and there you have it.






At first I was like, "God are You saying that I am a DEMON????"



For real. I have no idea why it takes me so long to figure things out.

As it turns out, SELF is the root problem. It all goes back to this. All of my troubles. All of my sins. All of the weaknesses. All of it.

The identity crisis I always had is a result of basing identity on SELF rather than who I am in Christ. When we receive Him, we are filled

with new life, and our old self dies. Unless you are like me and don't allow it to die. I kept reviving mine. Giving it CPR. Giving it pep

talks.

The vanity and pride are also symptoms that come from glorifying the SELF. Come to think of it, that's the whole reason that Satan got

kicked out of heaven in the first place. He went from beautiful angel to belly-sliding snake almost overnight. Oh! Snake! There's

another one!

Wait...

(ok I am done liking snakes now.)



Anyway. About SELF. Putting myself before God's will is what has caused me all this trouble in life. I might as well have opened my

front door wide and yelled out to all the trouble in the world and invited it in. In fact that's just what I did.

All 4 cups of trouble were a direct result of putting myself first.

He told me to guard my mind, I disobeyed. He told me not to abuse His herbs, I disobeyed. He told me to not go back to my old idol of

art, I disobeyed. He told me to come to Him and spend more time in prayer, I disobeyed.

I chose to put my SELF first. I filled my own measuring cup right on up. The gloss came right up perfectly to the line, 4 cups. And I

poured it out, all by myself.



I remember a vision I had, shortly after the whole hospital thing with Leah. I saw a yellow triangle, and it said "Yield" on it, like the

yield signs. It flipped around and around, like it didn't know which way to go.

God said, "Which way does it go?"

I answered Him and said, "A yield sign is down."



I knew this had meaning. Instead of praying, I assumed He meant, a yield sign was down, as in, down on the ground, removed from it's

place. Like you can now proceed. You don't have to yield anymore.

I was all happy, thinking all kinds of warnings had been removed from my life.



As it turns out, He was saying, it was down, as in, needed to be put back up.

If I would have prayed about it, I would have been shown this. I have a problem with assuming things. I think I have gotten so good and

understanding things. As it turns out, I need God each and every day of my life. 38 years of this life and I am just now getting it.





the end of the snake!


Before I wrap this up, I want to tell you one last thing.



Just a few days before Leah's hospital ordeal, I was laying in bed, eyes closed, just thinking about nothing at all, when lo and

behold, out of the blue, a vision of Jesus! He was sort of in a serious mood.

I've seen Him before when He is laughing, I've seen Him hugging me and restoring my heart. But this time was different. He rode up to me

on a horse! For real!

The horse did it's thing, where it shifts hooves & acts all ancy, snorting, ready to run off. Jesus looked at me and told me all kinds of

things about my life, blessings and trials and miracles and difficulties of the past, present and future, it was just this amazing

download of information that went straight to my soul, I couldn't tell you what all was said if I tried. After He showed me all of this, I

cried and said, "Jesus I love you and I will follow You wherever You lead."

He said,

"Are you prepared to follow Me at any cost?"

I told Him yes.

That's all He said. No! Wait! He said one more thing to me before He turned and took off on the horse!

He said,

"I bring you love."





And that was it. He took off.

???



Oh and one more thing.

You know in the hospital when I littered that copy of the visions? As it turns out, I was being tested.

I think I passed.



For now.





That's all I have to share with you punks for now. And I really, really mean it this time.



But I always reserve the right to change my mind, and if I do, it's not going to be heavy and deep, because I don't plan on having

anything else to talk about like that, because I am staying out of trouble from here on out.



Love, A.

ps- He brings YOU love too!