...

(february 09)

It happened. She went and did exactly the thing I told her not to do: turn 18. Yet she did it anyway. My daughter. I told her I was going to ground her for this, but she laughed and said she's already grounded. (She and her friend decided to go to Austin a couple weeks ago, sans parental permission.)

This morning I awoke with the bittersweet knowings in my soul of doors closing and new ones opening. I feel sadness and loss, I feel tears welling up as I type. But I also am running over with such joy and relief. I'm nothing short of an Accomplished Woman. I did it. Don't ask what. Just know, I did it.

I made her a pillow for her birthday. It was going to be a quilt, but instead, it's a big decorative throw pillow for her bed. I've been saving her favorite little shirts and dresses and sleepers ever since she was a baby so that when she turned 18, I'd make a quilt out of them. Over the years as she'd outgrow something, and if it was something colorful and cute and full of warm memories, I'd stuff it in the special bag, usually cutting a fabric square out of it first and tossing the rest. The bag has become fat and full over the years and I've lugged it with me everywhere I go. I never open it. But I had to a few months ago. I opened it up and dumped it out and found myself surrounded by a sea of warm memories of hugs, cuddling, laughing, reading books, stroller rides and playgrounds. It wasn't exactly easy to sew these patches together and create the finished product, but I did it. I've been working on it for the past few weeks. It's the craziest pillow you've ever seen, complete with big hot pink strings of fringe coming off each side. She's going to open it and laugh.

I did other things, too. I've done alot over the past couple of months.

I stood back up on my feet. I got a job, doing what I know how to do well- I'm back to talking customer's heads off about vitamins. I found an affordable apartment and I'm making plans to move very soon. I wrapped up my Season of "Purging". Purging. A good word, is it not? An old friend referred to it as that recently. I never looked at it this way. I viewed it as giving, sharing. But purging is quite accurate, although a little rough sounding.

Speaking of this old "friend". The tears that wait to be acknowledged in my heart this morning are also there because of him. I feel a certain sadness as I become more and more aware of how different my life has become, how unconnected I really am, how the ties that once held me close to certain people have now become frayed, untangled, and have come loose. I used to think it was just me. Now I realize, that's just life. I blame my hermithood but in all honesty, I've chosen to live the way I do.

I had this vision a few nights ago: A river, with three distinct "paths" lying flat upon the surface of the water, these paths appeared to be tire tracks, muddy. The paths ran parallel, a wide one in the middle and two slimmer ones on each side. Three paths, three tracks, three lives. They were in the river, going in the same direction. Above the river was a small golden bridge, it arched up and over, connecting the two river banks. I saw the three paths running one way, and the bridge going another way. I knew in my spirit, the bridge was part of my own path.

I stand on the side of this river now. I stand and watch the water flowing, I see these three lives going their own way. Where will they go? What will they do? Where will the flow of life take them? My tears are coming up now as I type. I know I must say goodbye to these three. I know the truth now, none of the three were mine for romance and love, yet it was the hope that kept my selfish female heart connected. The simple truth is, I was called to minister to these three, to wake them up, to speak truth. What a test this has been. I fell for each one.

One was my first love, perhaps the only man I have ever known "true love" with. It was powerful and real, but too strong at the time for me. The second was much younger than me, yet made my heart laugh with joy and made me feel free and fun. The third was the vessel that was used to cripple me and infect my mind during the past year, the most ingenius weapon that has ever come against me in the form of another human being.

Speaking to these three is how this all started, and not by choice. It just started to happen, beginning in '04. My heart was burdened for each one, dreams and visions were shown to me about them, and this, combined with feelings on and off, created a real confusion festival in my head and in my heart. I've been dancing with three men, yet none took the time to take my hand gently. I suppose the river is a good place for them to end up.

Pride. Self. All three struggle with these things. Do any of them realize that my personal writings speak of their own issues as well? Can any of these men take a look in the mirror and see, what I have shared with everyone are lessons for them as well? I spoke of my pain, my mistakes, lessons learned the hard way. I told them of how hard God dealt with me regarding pride and vanity. Can they open their eyes and see that I was struck down as a result of not yeilding these things to Him? Can they see, their lives are very much like my own?

I opened my life to show what I lived and what I learned. And now I stand, rejected romantically by the ones who wanted me, back before they understood what I was really all about, on the inside. I held out for this. I have been tested, and so I test in return. None have passed my own test so far. Not one man has swallowed his pride with me. Look at what pride does to you. Look at the lost opportunities it brings. Look at the roadblocks it creates. It all goes back to pride. Listen to me now. Humble yourself and deal with this sin before God does it for you.

I stand and feel the loss of these three possibilites, but I have learned so much. I now look at the bridge. I can't see where it leads. I can't see what's on the other side. But it's my own path to walk and I step on that bridge with a smile. I say goodbye to the river that washed me, goodbye to the memories that propelled me, goodbye to the men who taunted me. I loved you all, but my love can never be enough. May the strong current of the river lead you to a better place in life, a better way, a better day.

A vision comes to mind, several months ago: jello on my kitchen counter, all set up, and a handful of strawberries being tossed upon it, but bouncing off. It was too late to add fruit. The jello was already "set up."

Goodbye, boys. You rejected my fruit, but I laugh as the river carries you away.

Not saying it was a set-up or anything.

~*~

Another vision just a few days ago: a small drinking glass, clean and clear, yet filled with lots and lots of cigarettes, all crammed in there. Each cigarette appeared to have already been smoked, but they were still almost full length. As if someone just lit one, took one or two puffs (I don't know smoking terminology.. drags?) and then put it out. Not only that, but the end of each one had alot of that smokey gray ash hanging off of it, like it was really burned out. The glass was filled with these.

I'm being shown what my cup has been filled with, all of these years- burned-out relationships, not even finished, and barely started. Cigarettes are not good for you, just as none of the men I have been "sampling" have been, for me at least. I don't even smoke. What are these burned out things doing in my cup?

The enemy has tried to fill my cup with so many "failures" that I might be burned out and jaded regarding men, relationships, and love. That I might believe the lie that I've tasted so many, and only come up empty-handed, it's pointless. That all men and all relationships are bad. I have been subconsciously carrying this lie around with me for many years. That love goes nowhere, that relationships burn out fast, that the bad boys are the only ones I know how to taste.

I'm realizing, these negative and false things do not belong in my cup. I was not meant to spend my years searching for love and being hurt, and hurting others. I was not meant to experience so many dead-end relationships. I was not meant to lie down in a man's bed in hopes of something meaningful evolving. I have, up until 2004, been living like an unpaid prostitute, giving myself away for free.

I take this cup and hold it in front of me. I examine the ruins of my heart. I gaze upon each burned out option, each dead end. I don't empty the glass into the river, no, the river is already doing it's cleansing work. I think I will take this glass and bury the contents somewhere. But the glass I will take along with me, as I walk across that bridge.

I'm curious to see what exactly God wants to fill it with.

~*~

In 1990, when I was pregnant with my daughter, I had a very powerful and vivid dream: I was standing in an airport, waiting to board a flight. I was standing in line and there was lots of tension in the air, I was filled with apprehension. I carried a baby girl on my hip, we were getting ready to board a flight, a journey.

In '03 I had another dream along those lines, except this time, I was alone. Right around that time, my daughter went to live with her dad for a while. I knew I was beginning a new journey, a new path, one that would be deeper and more difficult.

Just a few months ago I dreamed of being in a small plane, I was the only passenger, and the pilot was my dad (my "Father"). He said, "Are you ready to come in for a landing?"

I am ready, Daddy. I am ready. Thank you Father for this incredible journey You have taken me on. Thank you for every trial and tribulation You've allowed me to experience. Thank you for the lessons You've taught me. Thanks for the peace I now have in my head and in my heart. Thank You for allowing sickness, and bringing healing. Thank you for showing me the painful things I didn't want to face. Thank you for the hope You've given me. Thank You for the promises You've given me. I believe You, Dad. I trust You. I know that all I need to do at this point in time is take my empty cup and cross that bridge.

~*~

I have seen glimpses of my future. I have looked into the eyes of my son. He has laughing, smiling eyes. The vision of him remains in my mind, yet I have been so quick to forget his appearance when I have tried so hard to make the puzzle pieces fit together. By that I mean, I think of a man I might know, or am attracted to, and I forget that my son looks nothing like him. Oh stop shaking your head at me. I'm not crazy. You just haven't gotten fully on my page yet. Get in my book, ok?

He looks nothing like any of my former "top-3". There is only one man that I know that he resembles. This just occurred to me last night. I was going through my head, trying to think of anyone I might know, that could possibly physically match up with the vision I had. There is only one man, and he's someone I've never been in a relationship with, but I do know him. He's a little bit older than me. I had a raging terrible crush on him from 2000 to 2003, but circumstances prevented me from ever expressing it. Maturely, at least. He's the only one that I know that looks very much like the vision that was shown me, not only facial features but also body type and even personality. I sensed my son, I sensed his being. I felt his laughter. I saw him viewing me and laughing at me. I felt his love.

The thing is, I've always known that I'd end up with someone I already know. That's why I've made the mistake so many times of assuming it's such and such. I've been acting like some kind of detective when really I should be enjoying my life. I want to be a normal woman so very badly. I want to learn to handle the things God shows me, yet still enjoy things normally. How? I guess I'll just have to figure it out.

Look at me. Talking about needing to stop trying to solve puzzles, and at the same time, saying who I think my future son looks like. Look at me! Do you agree that it's a good thing that I'm stopping all this blogging? I am, by the way. I am. I already did, in fact. I'm no longer on the computer. I just wanted to do this one today. I woke up with this full head and I need to spill it out.

~*~

Last night at work I met a man from India with a very fluffy beard. And he looks around my age, he's not even old. His beard is puffier than Santa's. I was fascinated. He was speaking softly about vitamins yet all I could do was gaze at his beard. I didn't even answer his vitamin questions. Instead, I told him that his beard was very puffy. He smiled and touched it and told me all about it. He uses vitamin E soap on it. He said if he didn't trim it, it would grow extremely long. I told him he reminded me of Cat Stevens. He didn't know who he was! So I had to tell him all about him. He said he'd go home and look him up, then next time he's in the store, he'd tell me of some good music I can check out. I made a new friend. I love this job. I don't see it as several different jobs, no, it's all one long vitamin selling job, just at different stores. So I can say, I've been doing the same thing since '99. That's when I got my very first job in a health food store, making smoothies. I'm on my 7th store now. I think I've found Vitamin Nirvana. It's the best one so far.

Something I really like about it is one of my co-workers, he's only 20, and that means FUN. We invented a new concept the other night: Alternate Reality Vitamin Store. It's where you go and buy things like Tapeworm Eggs instead of colon cleansers, Arsenic Concentrate Drops instead of ionic minerals, and Cow Pattie Dainty Soap instead of herbal cleansers. The list goes on and on. I love my new job.

...

freedom is never free

I saw that somewhere when I was a teenager, in a book maybe, and I tore it out, "laminated" it in scotch tape, and affixed it to the inside cover of my jewelry box. Freedom is Never Free. I was fascinated with the phrase. Freedom. What was it? Why do wars break out over it? Why is it what's taken away from a prisoner, as punishment? What is this concept that is so important to us? I knew, even as a teen, it somehow went much deeper than physical freedom, like the right to vote, freedom of speech, etc etc. So when I saw that, according to this quote, that it was never free... I began to wonder, so then, at what cost? And where do you go to buy it?

"There are so many to set free" is what I heard in my spirit in '05, as God showed me a vision of rows and rows of people behind bars, arms outstretched , hands waving, begging to be released. I had been praying for the people in my neighborhood at the time. From all outward appearances these people were not imprisoned in any way, no, they were the most relaxed folks I'd ever seen, without a care in the world it seemed, spending time on their front porches of their dilapadated homes. The kids romped in the street and played. The women had huge potbellies that rivaled the men. The men sat and drank beer and watched life go by, from the vantage point of the porch. I loved it there.

Why did God show me that these people were imprisoned? From all outward appearances, they were free as could be. Chew on that for a minute why dontcha.

When all this started, God said, "Tell them who you are", and I just went blank. I had no idea.

All of this expression has helped me to answer my own question as to who I am. This strange journey began with a dream in the fall of '06, while the seizures were going on, but I was too afraid to tell anyone. I dreamed of walking alone on a road, and the wind started to blow. It blew with such force that I could no longer move forward, and I was blown to the side of the road. I even saw a car blown off to the side as well, showing me how strong the wind was. As I stood on the side of the road, I was given an electronic device, it looked like a waffle iron, but it was something to communicate with. I held it in my right hand and was told that with this device, I would tell others "where I've been, and where I'm going." I carried this thing and began walking on the side of the road, and a path opened up through the tall grass. I saw that the path before me ran parallel to the big road, yet I was protected on each side with tall grass, almost like a cornfield. It was a safer path to walk.

The electronic communication device, of course, turned out to be this laptop that my mother insisted I bond with during the past two years, while I recovered. The fact that it appeared to be a waffle iron goes along with something God told me, that this time would "iron out my waffling." Indecision, changing my mind, being unsure of so many things. I can say that now, my waffling is all ironed out. I know who I am, and I know what I want, and what I don't want. I am unafraid to speak out.

Spiritually, I am a prophetess. I can say that now. Others have said it for me, but now, I can nod in agreement with no shame or self-consciousness. I am unafraid of my gift and I am learning to manage it with more grace, maturity, and joy.

Physically, I'm so proud of my healing that I could burst. I laugh at what happened and I laugh at what God has done with me during this time. It's surreal. Only me. Only in my life would this happen. I'm not even 40 yet. What next?

Mentally, I need help. Currently, Acetyl L-Carnitine is my best friend, twice a day, and good old tea, all the time. And lots of sleep.

Emotionally, I enjoy being the woman God created me to be. I am sensitive. I stress easily. I like guys. Ok I love guys. I have nothing left to hide and nothing to apologize for. My weaknesses balance out my strengths. I'm the perfect chick for the perfect man, wherever he may be. I desire a strong hand to hold, I yearn for comforting arms around me. But I will never play games again or try to fit myself into anyone else's standards. Freedom is the name of the game. We all have the right to be free, not only in your physical world, but in your friendships and relationships as well. To me, freedom is key. In all that I do on this planet from here on out, FREEDOM will be there. Oppression, condemnation, and accusation will not be a part of my life, and people who operate in these things will have nothing to do with me.

I am hated for my strengths, did you know that? Many men have loved me on the outside, yet hated once they discovered what's on the inside. Boys, I am now inside-out. There are no secrets. I have created the most ingenius filter ever. Each new man I meet will be promptly directed to my online creations. No more up-all-night explaining festivals, any more. By that I mean, I have talked so many guy's heads off over the years in futile attempts to show them what my head is really all about, but I only ended up confusing them.

I'm growing my hair long again.

I'm wearing a smile.

View my beauty, inside and out, and weep.

Punks.

~*~

I was going to create a new spot to stick my blogs, other than Worm Island. I was thinking Butterfly House, or Maison de Papillon would be the next place, but in my story, that represents heaven. I can't be blogging from heaven. So Worm Island, the place where men die unto themselves, is where I will leave this.

I leave this strange virtual world now, with a huge sigh of relief. I did it.

For years I was always on the verge of an emotional breakdown, barely able to contain all that was inside of me, good and bad. The pain, the grief, the overwhelming pain of the loss of my brother. The loss of my role as a mother, or so I perceived it, when my daughter would live with her dad. The frustrations of being used, again and again, in search of finding love. The frightening dreams and visions that began to flood my mind as God began to reveal Himself to me, and then watching them come to pass, one by one, scaring the living daylights out of me, and sometimes out of the folks they had to do with, and the suspicious looks that followed. The uphill battle that has been the norm for me as a single woman, on my own since 1997, refusing any form of help from anyone, including my family, until I was forced to rest, after getting the brain infection. For years I have been a walking time bomb. No more.

I plumb exploded.

I am enjoying my life once more. I go to work and have a clear mind, for the first time ever. I no longer feel the need to talk about personal matters with people. I feel more capable of helping others, rather than needing help. I enjoy listening more than speaking. My nerves are healing, I no longer feel as if I could cry when the wind blows. I am free.

If I could leave you with one thing, I would say, HUMBLE YOURSELF.

That, or toy around with pride a little longer. Who knows, maybe God will grant you a nice long season of cleansing, like He gave me. The only thing is, that soap sort of hurts. You can do it the hard way, like I did. Or you can simply listen to me.

Give yourself to Christ. Turn yourself in. Surrender.

Don't make me get in my

(I still don't have a car so I'll have to get back with you on that one)


...

(april 09)

The other day I dreamed this: I was slowly climbing a steep staircase, it appeared to be outside and it was carved out of stone, it was covered in mud and it was scary. It was steep and scary, and each new step to take was impossible for me, until I actually lifted my right leg to take a step, that's when a big strong arm would come down and grab hold of my hand and pull me up so I could get on the next step. I'd stand there, look at the mud, all blocked and overwhelmed, then attempt to step up and right then the help would come. This happened over and over again. I looked behind me and saw lots of people climbing the same stairs. I noticed each time the hand would lift me up and help me to the next step, I'd come down with such force on the new step that I left heavy indentions in the mud, footprints, and I turned and saw that the people behind me were stepping where I stepped, their climb was made easier because of my footprints in the mud. I made it all the way to the top and realized I had been climbing a mountain, there was no more mud on top, I was dizzy and I said, "that was so hard!" And I saw who had been lifting me, it was Jesus. He laughed at me and said, "I know!" And I understood that He had been with me all along. I woke up and cried and felt reassured that there is purpose to my difficulties, that other people are/will be helped because of it. And that's maybe why I can laugh, because I can't give any advice in any area of life except the spiritual.

Oh and I should say again, the hand didn't come down and lift me up until I'd lift my leg to take the step. Even though I knew I couldn't do it. I still tried.

..

(may 09)

...did I ever mention one of the very first visions I had after the brain infection? Or, rather, while it was going on. Like maybe the first month I was out at my mom's, barely off the depakote, staring into space and wondering what on earth was happening. I saw this~ a beautiful fig tree, laden with HUGE golden ripe fat juicy figs, they were so ripe and ready they were making the branches droop. Then a strong wind came to shake the tree and I knew all the figs were about to be blown right off. The location of the fig tree in the vision was right outside my mom's apartment, in the corner of the building, protected. Only one side was exposed to the strong wind. Well trees don't have sides but you know what I mean. The fig tree was about to be blown but it was safe at the same time. God was showing me what He was about to do with me. Did you like my fruit? Did any of it fall on your head? I hope so.



...

(june 09)

It's really been on my mind and bothering me. I just don't see how it will ever work. The scary restaurant dream. Sorry if you don't know what I mean. That's too bad. I'm tired of this.

Look. I've been thinking, and I'm realizing, all this I've been doing IS like a restaurant already. It's always there, open 24/7, and I'm inside. Not for real, but even better than real. The best of me is inside all this. That's more than you'd ever get out of me in real life.

None of this means much now. But let it ferment, let it float. Times are changing. Things that are seemingly totally uncool now might be suddenly more appealing when

Just know that I created more than cookies. I made a feast. It's all I had to give. And I had to do it when I did, because time is short.

My life is changing, there's a turn up ahead on my road. Good things are happening. The landscape is changing, fresh air is coming in. I'm moving on and I really don't want to take any of this with me. I thought I was going to, but I changed my mind.

Love, A.

(that's not to say I'm quitting my Secret Operative position. Just the writing & video making.)