Sickos - If Only

Doctors are amongst the sickest people in the world. I type this morning realizing I am experiencing extreme angst, something so unhealthy that my soul is unsettled. 

People are still doing it ... they are still lying to themselves about life, about death. What's a gal to do, I ask you, when the march of death is on and the masses, like penguins, limp and waddle their way toward precipice. 

I have her perfume: it's called Poison. Who would name a perfume Poison? I forget it is there. This morning I spotted the blood red jar and lifted the lid. I drew the bottle under my nostrils and inhaled. There she was: my sister's signature scent brought me to her. I dreamt about her recently. We embraced for a very long time as I wept. The holding, the pulling her close, was for me. I wasn't trying to help or heal her, I just held her and she hugged me tenderly too. I needed that. 

I know people are still doing it, getting injected while they face myriad, strange, and incurable illnesses. What was that thriller movie called, the one where the psychopathic killer came at his victim, knife raised, while they were showering? Ya, that is how I see what is happening. Psychopathic poison pushers stand poised and ready to inject, while unbeknownst to the patients, they await their death stabbing. 

In my late twenties, I had an ear infection. I was on antibiotics, and the more of them I took, the worse I felt, but I thought they were supposed to make me feel better. Under this uneducated belief, I took a middle of the night dose hoping to be cured of the lousy feeling that was taking over my entire body. In the morning, when I flicked on the bathroom light and saw my face and neck, I was shocked to see welts. Not knowing what caused the raised, red, angry looking welts, my former husband and I went off to emergency to discover, I had broken out in hives as a reaction to something in the antibiotics. Lesson learned.

Some people learn from other people's mistakes, some people learn from their own, and some people never learn. I wonder, if the majority of people fall heavily into the, some people never learn category. To be forewarned is to be forearmed: alas, individuals have lost their senses, meaning they are not only not reading the room, they are not reading the signs of the times. 

In common parlance, instincts, a sixth sense, trusting your gut, following intuition, means there is an inner knowing of danger, or of what is to come. When you and I know there is danger, it behooves us to fight it if it is in our face, or to move quickly away for self-preservation. It appears to me that this switch of knowing has been permanently flicked to off - instead of second guessing strangers and the dangers they bring with them, people trust as though their lives depend upon it. My God in heaven, people trust other people, as though their lives depend upon them, to keep them from harm, and to preserve them too. 

Christians speak of discernment. It is the gift of God's voice, the sweetest steering and clearing voice one can ever silently hear. If only ... If only people cocked one ear heavenward and shut their big as a bass mouths, and listened to HIM ... if only. 

Periodically I watch television with my mother and son. Drugs with all their side-effect warnings are commercialized, one after the next, getting so much air time that one would have to be an utter idiot not to notice that the very drugs being pushed, are poisonous too, and while the suggestion is that they may cure one problem, they cause so many more that to take them, is to put one's life in jeopardy. Some of the ads have gorgeous people doing fun and fabulous things ... the unspoken proposition, is: If you suffer from this or that condition, you need a certain drug in order to continue your active and delightful lifestyle. That is what the public bought: the lie that life will be long, that they will prosper, and they will not have to think about their health, if only ... if they just ... take this, and accept that, and Do as I say, and all will be well with you. 

God did this first, dear reader. He effectively said, Do this, and Don't do that, and all will be well with you. The Israelites didn't listen to him, preferring to pick their poisons as suggested by the devil, and to hell with the side-effects, the co-lateral damage, the carnage, illness and death of the soul, it would cause. To this point, we have causation: sinning causes soul sickness; trusting wicked wacko strangers with your health and wellness causes body ailments that rot and kill wholesome God made tissue. That is what we are taking about, dear one. Peace with God is life, and peace with the world is a selling of the soul. Disobedience to his commandments is the equivalent of backing up into the dagger that is poised to enter into your back, or running toward the blade aimed at your heart .... or going to a pharmacy or to your doctor for your next, in-the-arm-injection. 

Thus saith the LORD; Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the LORD. For he shall be like the heath in the desert, and shall not see when good cometh; but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land and not inhabited. Blessed is the man that trusteth in the LORD, and whose hope the LORD is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit (Jeremiah 17:5-8)

I see people as the walking dead when they do not know Jesus as their Saviour. It is as plain as day to me because I am one of his creatures, not just because he formed and shaped me, but because I not only hear his voice, I listen for it, attune my ears and long to hear, and I have the gift to discern the times. While the sun is shining, there is darkness in humanity as they rush early to their graves. How horrifying it is, to witness this strange en masse agreement to assisted self-murder. 

It is father's day, and I can only think of one Good Father, that ought to be spoken of frequently and with reverence. He is the Good Shepherd, provider for the flock, and he wants none to be lost, wandering, bruised and bleeding. It pains me greatly to hear and see the suffering, knowing there is an answer that is not even considered in these desperate days of drugs and botox, vaping, fornicating and drinking. Godlessness has turned people and their poison pushers into sickos, and today my angst is tangible with this knowing. 

I end with this suggestion. Do not forfeit your life, dear reader, for emptiness, for hollow and shallow promises of pleasure that are fleeting and injurious to your being. To live, is Christ, and nothing else with suffice ... If only I could inject this truth into all that I meet, into all that read these words; if only. 

Puck In The Face

Billets: families who invite players into their homes to be a part of their family during the hockey season. 

London Ontario, Canada

Young men living with billets, families that are not their own, mere teenagers, at a tender and hormonally charged age, are given by their parents to strangers to be housed so that they can play hockey and become competitive, with the hope of being chosen as an elite few, that get to experience the sport as professionals, paid for playing the game they love.  

This is a criminal act against these boys soon to be men: it is a form of child sacrifice. Once the care of these boys to men is relinquished to handlers, there is a no holds barred philosophy seeded into them, hardening their hearts to morals and ethics. Copious amounts of alcohol and sex, along with endless physical training and skill development for their sport, becomes the life of the impressionable, and man alive, it turns some of these young men into rapists and alcoholics. 

There was a hockey team in London a number of years ago. Their manager/handler set his sights on a young girl while the team was at a bar. Methodically, he filled her with alcohol, and something else, to ensure intoxication along with some form of awake-ness. She was alone, and the team had needs that the manager wanted taken care of, and she was the unwitting victim, carried into a hotel room, and abused by at least nine of the team mates. They were all invited to participate, and one by one, they said, via text, I'm in. 

I wonder how many times they did what they did? I wonder how many of them are drug addicts now, or alcoholics, not because they like the stuff, but because as a team, as a small and intimate group that shared the ice, they also partook in perversion, colluding with one another, excusing themselves and each other, despite being rapists, without any signs of regret, remorse, repentance. Sexual "addiction" is something else to consider, a behavioural side effect of wanton indulgence of sexual urges, with people that may or may not, consent to intercourse. When someone feels entitled to impose their body onto someone else's, what difference does it make who they do these things with? 

There is a sick cloak of secrecy amongst many a former and present hockey player. Being excellent at a sport draws eyes, and the sad thing that comes from this is idolatry. The player and their parents sacrifice much for the budding athlete, and the sport becomes the be-all-end-all, love of their life: they become deprived, depraved, and eventually devoid of any sense of caring for others. A teenage boy at the age of 16-17, still needs his father, and especially his mother, to lead the way, and also to call them out when they get too big for their britches. Hockey scouts and managers, team owners and trainers, want the boys to be confident and cocky, to win at all costs. The wicked amongst these handlers keep the boys well occupied when they are off the ice, with all manner of misbehaviour and sometimes, perhaps too often, they encourage heartless rape as a way of getting what they want without any consequences, until of course, someone blows the whistle to end their game. 

I was shocked when I learned there is a "slush fund" for this type of criminal behaviour. Imagine having to build into your budget, money that will cover culprits in cases of rape. Hockey players playing hockey, unimpeded, uninterrupted, is more valuable, then teaching these boys to men, that sisters, aunts, cousins, and mothers, must be protected and treated as precious. How many of these rapists have sister siblings that have had the same things done to them, that they did en mass to their victims? 

The men that were recently on trial in London Ontario, do not want to be found guilt of the crimes they clearly committed. They each had legal representation, and had their mothers by their side in court, and rather than coming clean, despite all the evidence proving them culpable, they tried to cover-up and blame the girl they viciously misused as though she wasn't a person to be kindly considered. Imagine with me, being a mom, or dad, and hearing the despicable things your child did, and now blatantly lies about, as they try to wiggle out from under the law that ought to have them rotting in jail. 

Is it the parent's fault for giving up their children to the god of ice, the idol of sticks, pucks, and catch them nets? I think there is something to look at here, dear reader. We must not ever, hand our vulnerable, susceptible, easily influenced children, over to strangers that take advantage of their talent, and indulge their whims, while encouraging the marinating and soaking of their sins, in alcohol. It makes bad people out of what could have been, good and honest men. 

There is another case pending, while this one is being deliberated by the judge, after hearing evidence and testimonies. These are the few cases that we know about: there is many a rape victim that silent suffers in shame, not knowing who to trust or how to begin the healing process. We live in a godless society, where pleasure is paramount, reigning supreme and effectually, killing conscience and turning people into mindless, merciless monsters. 

God sees all, and while these hockey players are hoping they will be let off the rapist meat hook, they know what they did, and so do their equally ignoble team mates. And ... their moms know too. 

A Heart

Everyone has one, but what, pray tell, is yours made of? 

I bought Goggles Livingstone for my son. My son is a self-described geek. He loves reading and writing, the very things that I prayed he would love; more importantly, he loves the Word of God, and preaching. We have had many a discussion about staying true to The Bible, and when he teaches via recorded messages, he does not add, nor does he take away, from what is in scripture. I used to call him a puritan, because of his desire to remain true to all that God gave us in the Good Book. He has learned through painful trial and error, that to deviate in any way, shape, or form, from what is plainly written, can be like driving one-hundred-forty in the wrong direction, into oncoming traffic, down a highway with a one hundred kilometre an hour limit: a crash is inevitable. Goggles Livingstone is a playful grinning planter of pleasure for my son and I, because the little character, named for his glasses, and the type of plant embedded in his head, remind us of him, my son Matthew. He is a brainiac that has spiritual eyes to see. We are living stones, dear reader, and we are the makeup of God's temple on earth, representing Christ Jesus. 

1 Peter 2:4-9

To whom coming, as unto a living stone, disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of God, and precious, ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ. Wherefore also it is contained in the scripture, Behold, I lay in Sion a chief corner stone, elect, precious: and he that believeth on him shall not be confounded. Unto you therefore which believe he is precious: but unto them which be disobedient, the stone which the builders disallowed, the same is made of the head of the corner, and a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence, even to them which stumble at the word, being disobedient: whereunto also they were appointed. 

But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light. 

Goggles Livingstone needs sunlight and a periodic soaking of his soil. Because the little fella has eyes, I turn him toward the light in the morning to face the sun. It is a little laughable, a little silly, a little ridiculous to talk of him this way, and yet, we have attributed personality to this living-stone plant, with the glasses and face. The jutting green rock like structures protruding from the hollowed out planter are set in soil, and I weekly saturate said soil to ensure life continues. We are washed and rinsed, dear one, with rain, with tears, with conviction in our conscience, and when we remember to turn toward the Son, the Saviour, our only true source of pure light and love, we feel the brightening of our spirit. 

What, pray tell, is your heart made of? Is it a stone of stumbling, confounding you and keeping you from believing in the One, sent to save you from your sins? Or, dear reader, are you a lively stone, peculiar and precious, building up a spiritual house, as a part of a holy priesthood, a living sacrifice, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ, known as the corner stone. 

Believing in Jesus as Saviour is reserved for those that do not mitigate or mask their faults, flaws, foibles, faux pas: it is for the humble of heart that love Christ to the point of hating their own sinful nature. Those that love him ever-so, are repugnant to those that have hearts of stone; the latter do not want him to reign and rule in their personal or professional lives: they are antagonistic toward God, his Son, and his people. This explains much, does it not? It is thusly simplified, isn't that right, dear reader?

You don't have to agree with me, when I ask you if I am right. We don't have to understand the world the same way, especially if I speak of scripture and you have yet to read it. I am a nothing, a nobody, and as the Casting Crowns state in their lyrics, I am trying to tell everybody, about Jesus. He can be located in history immemorial and future without end, and read about in The Bible. Don't look to me or any other human to help you fix your eyes on God. Go to him directly, let your soiled soul soak in his wisdom, cleansing your heart of all unrighteousness, so that the Son can brighten your spirit to a radiant glow, as evidence that you have spent time in his glorious presence. 

May the God of wonders be with you today, and always, world without end. 

Psalm 40:5

Many, O LORD my God, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which are to us-ward: they cannot be reckoned up in order unto thee: if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered. 

Post Script

If you are interested in Biblical preaching and teaching, look for: 

MatthewByers-Preaching brighteon.com

God Is Not Waldo

Seeking God is kind of silly, more then kind of silly, it is ridiculous ... no wait, seeking God is outrageously stupid: there, I think I nailed the butterfly wing concept down with push-ins. 

There is something called ... hold your breath now, a seekers church. O, you already knew about that? Well of course you did, these institutions have been parading as parishes for a long time of pretending. Why are you being so downright mean about this?, you ask. My reply:  I have to tell you the truth, dear reader, otherwise I am remiss in my duties. Think with me, Why would you or I have to seek, search, look for, and eventually find, God, when he is everywhere, always, and forever? 

If I want to find Waldo, I have to look for him amid a mass of stories, tiny vignettes told on each page, with come alive characters that seem to be enjoying themselves solo, or interactively, as cartoon creatures. Is this what people are doing when they attend a seekers church? Are attendees looking for God in sugar coated pretend pastoral wagging tongues that use up words without tapping into meaning; in songs that sweetly sing of Jesus as a best friend, rather than the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world via his sacrifice on the cross; on projection screens with lyrics and images that move a person to sentimentality minus a striking of conscience; and in the actors that crowd the stage as a crew to perform a skit they practiced all week, that more often then not, has nothing whatsoever to do with sin and salvation? 

What about the concept of me not finding God, but God finding me? If I had coffee in my mouth just now, I would have sputtered it out onto the keyboard and screen in front of me. God made you and I, and we know not how, but here you are, reading, and here I am (was) typing, and holy God in heaven, how insane is it to think that God is searching for us, as though each of us is a version of Waldo in a massive conglomeration of collected people, places, and things. The thought makes me giggle, because that's just silly, that's just ridiculous, that's just stupid, and dumb too!

I attended a seekers church for many years. I was already saved, which is the terminology we Christians use to indicate we have been redeemed by the blood of Christ after acknowledging our sin, repenting, and giving God all the credit and glory (another Christian term), for his mercy, forgiveness, and saving grace gift of new life in Jesus Christ as Lord. There was nothing I could do or say to have God save me from myself. I wasn't seeking him, because I knew he existed, undeniably so. I wasn't lost, and then found either; while I was wandering and wondering how I could live with myself, and with the guilt and shame of all the things I thought, and all the things I had done, that were offensive to God, he had me weeping at the age of twenty-two in gratitude, when I realized I didn't have to be perfectly well behaved, performing like a well trained monkey (more on that in a bit), I was required to acknowledge HIM, as God Almighty. There was a quickening in my spirit, a coming alive to knowing God, and the freedom from the burden of conscience was astounding, and still is, each time I pray for and receive, strength from my God to sin no more. 

I had someone say to me, Linda, you are good, but you aren't Jesus - you will forgive me for not giving you a back story for this statement; I cannot recall what came before or after this one line that has marked my memory all these years. This rebuke came at me like a dagger to my heart, spoken by one of the onstage performers at the seekers church. I have mulled over this many a time, and recently I revisited the thought and realized: I didn't want to be Jesus, I just didn't want to be me. Jesus is perfect, holy, sinless and, pristine! I was mucky and mired and messy and embarrassed of myself, constantly admonishing me with that finger in your face verbalized message, You shouldn't have said that; You shouldn't have done that; Seriously, again? When will you learn? Just speak less, behave appropriately, and we won't have to have another one of these conversations. If I behaved, like a good and well trained monkey, I wouldn't have to feel so badly, about being bad. Good God in heaven, works based doctrine had tricked me into believing that if I tried hard enough, I could be as good as Jesus. I have to laugh at this now in retrospect, because that is a meat hook I never want to be on again, and I am so joyful at having been taken off that hanger. 

My point is this: you have a conscience, we all do. When we go against the will of God, the conscience screams, Hey you, I saw that, I heard what you said, that isn't right. That is God's way of saying, I am right here, speaking to you. We don't have to go looking, he is present. In the seekers church, there is a lie told without words, that you can find God in the services they provide, as though your attendance there, will draw you closer to your Creator. They tell you, sing to you, play act for you, about a Waldo God that can be found, and you get to indulge the idea that it is up to you to have a relationship with him, using your freedom of choice to attend church, and consider whether or not you want him in your life. A true Christian does not want God in their life, they know he is not only there, but that he is at the helm, steering the ship toward heaven, and away from shipwreck.  

Many a Christian is now churchless. Most churches are apostate, and they are so worldly that it is impossible to tell them apart from the synagogues of Satan. They do not honour and obey God, as the God of The Bible, but playact as they perform for the crowds; for the people that think they can toy with the idea of God being real, not all powerful, but actually existing. 

God, is not Waldo. God will not be mocked. God is listening, he is watching, and he is mercifully measuring time for us to snap out of the stupor, fall on our knees, and worship him as Sovereign. 

1 Chronicles 29:11-12

Thine, O LORD, is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and the victory, and the majesty: for all that is in the heaven and in the earth is thine; thine is the kingdom, O LORD, and thou are exalted as head above all. Both riches and honour come of thee, and thou reignest over all; and in thine hand is power and might; and in thine hand it is to make great, and to give strength unto all. 

No Honour - I had to do it

There is no honour among thieves. A fraud, a fake, or in more specific terms, a malefactor, cannot be trusted, since lying is a way of life for them, and tricking people is a form of entertainment, a way of giving them hits of glee when their spitefulness turns into folly for the unsuspecting. 

I will give the malefactors a great compliment: they sure do know the dark side of human nature, and have shone black light onto the inner workings of the masses. The malefactors understand the love of money, and the devious nature that winds and twists its way into grey matter, then vine like works its way down, rooting itself into and around the heart, to grip and squeeze love of life and liberty to death. The effects, you ask? This adoring of the almighty dollar, has gripped and squeezed so tightly, it has turned many an adult against himself, making them mentally and emotionally handicapped. In their desperation to hold onto what this world has to offer, they forsake true treasure, the pearl of great price: they can no longer relate to God or their fellow men, in a godly fashion. 

The why explained

I had to do it. This is the excuse used as an explanation, that people made when they felt coerced into getting covid injected. You read that correctly, they got injected with covid. Think with me on this sentence. People were injected with covid ... all that could go wrong in the human body, was meant to go wrong in the human body, via strange and iniquitous toxins, known to injure and kill creatures of all kinds. Only the naive believe that what they have received into their bodies was for their benefit. When someone does not understand what is happening at this point, it is because they really do not want to know, and they will tell you as much. 

I had to do it. Employment was at stake, and when we look at employment, and take away all the descriptions of what you and I do for a living, we see that money is intertwined, inherently. Think with me on the statement, What I do for a living. Does our work equate with living? Yes and no is the on the fence answer. We work to get paid to buy the things we need to sustain life, but the work and the pay and the things must not be made equal to actually living. Living is an extra-ordinary thing that is incomparable to any other occurrence. The great lie told and repeated is that in order to live, we must cling to our work as our source, as our be all, end all, and forsake all else to ensure we have cash flow. The evil ones knew that the majority of people are enslaved to their income, that without it, their abodes, modes of transportation, and ability to fill their bellies, were at stake, and they were willing to sign on the dotted line, without ever asking to read the fine print of product information.  

I had to do it. There were many reasons, and lots of explanations, but the fact remains, that as long as a person continues to say I had to do it, they continue to insist that they do not have freedom of will. I heard the strangest logic that had my mind bending, while I dropped my right ear toward my shoulder so I could listen intently with the left ear, aimed at the speaker that stated: I prayed that God would protect me, and I did all the protocols to prevent side effects, before I got the shots. The speaker knew that the injections cause maiming and can kill almost instantly, but she was confident she could out smart poison. Her organic body, made by God, was in her mind, going to be protected by him, while she sinned in her disobedience. 

Romans 12:9

Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good. 

1 Timothy 6:10

For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. 

I started this piece of writing with dumpy trumpy and the muskrat in mind. These two are quite the non-comedic pair, aren't they? What else do the filthy rich have to do, then entertain themselves by shooting insults and threats at one another, like a pair of SNL (Saturday Night Live) characters, pretending to hate one another, while back stage, the two laugh and cavort like naughty children that care not what the teacher thinks of their misbehaviour. The teacher, if we continue this scene, is God. While SNL's dark humour hits the funny bone in a most painful way, Trump and Musk are doing the same, black-lighting their sick humour at the expense of humanity. Mercenaries are merciless, dear reader, and while people are suffering because they had to do it, these sick bastards are dancing on graves, and having the time of their lives. 

The end of this writing has arrived, and the end of humanity will come quickly, like a thief in the night. I write for those that are on the cusp of acknowledging that they loved money more than they loved God or their fellow man, and they have some heartache over choosing very badly, very wrongly. I pray for souls to be saved as people come to grips with the fact that they did indeed have a choice, that they did not have to do it, meaning get the injections that were foisted by bullies they had never met. I pray and I pray some more, for honesty to become the newest and greatest best policy amongst the lost, because dear one, Truth makes us free, and that is the very best remedy for soul sickness. 

Dumpy trumpy and the muskrat make fools of themselves, publicly. There is no honour among thieves, and while they may or may not mean what they say to one another, they are slinging insults, and they are well deserved. Since wicked people cannot be trusted, it serves us well to witness how they turn on one another; while saints edify one another with scripture, these fellas demean and deplore one another, tweeting on twitter, X-ing and hexing one another in a most embarrassing, unbecoming manner. 

And the crowd goes wild ... 

Paid Talent

We are looking for paid talent. Our talent will get you work, all you have to do, is send money! It's a win-win for all you desperados out there, that just cannot seem to make it to the big leagues in social media. We've got you covered. Now about payment: we take bitcoin, any major credit card, or your first born child. Cash is dirty, so none of that! Thanks, we look forward to soaking you, until then, chin-up, be positive now, your future is in our hands and it looks bright!

I was on substack and happened to notice a repeated theme. There were lots of requests, written in similar sounding language, wanting newbies to send their writing to these popular influencers, so the smartiepants' could read, then encourage, and possibly promote, those that are hidden solo in the shadows of obsurity, that have yet to be discovered as brilliant and noteworthy. I think of all the scam artists that would tell pretty people, and sometimes rather unattractive people too, that they could be models. The only prerequisite to paid modelling work, was headshots, to create a portfolio for the scouts to put out there for the client. The prey were told they must pay for the photos, and for the services of the promoters, and voila, the grifters managed to bilk their unsuspecting quarry. The same thing is happening on substack I suspect, and why not? the criminally minded abound, and there is no safe haven from their insidious reach. 

I write blogs, and in 2017 I published one hundred stories in a book entitled Love Master. I have a couple of boxes of my book in a downstairs closet, but otherwise, they aren't in print. Over the years, I have had many a call from people eager to transform my printed work, into a movie: each call made me chuckle, and had me thinking: 

1. Now how would they make a movie out of a bunch of blogs?  

2. They have no clue what my book is about

3. I am on a calling list, dang it, how annoying

My name, my book title, are out there floating around in the ether, and I am a pigeon in the eyes of the wicked that want to make money off of my "talent". Man alive, I guess we all have to make our cash somehow, but I wonder how these spammer scammers can possibly feel good about themselves, when they spend their days dialling strangers, knowing that their end goal, is to trick them into believing fame and fortune awaits them, for a price.  

I think substack has been taken over by bots and needs a little clean-up. When the same message is posted repeatedly by "different" people that have hundreds of likes and follows, there is something amiss, something suspect, that requires investigation. 

Dear reader, how important is it for you to keep all pretending and posturing out of your personal and professional life? When I see Ai, I cringe, and then I consider how much further we as a global society, have travelled away from the sanctity of Truth. It makes me want to find a small town that hasn't any internet, where you pick your own non GMO fruit from trees, and uproot plants from mineral rich soil, and picnic by clear waters on a red and white checked blanket with ducks floating past, and dogs catching frisbees thrown by rosy cheeked, energetic, happy children. You know, the golden olden days, where summer acted like summer, and May felt like spring rather than the beginning of fall. 

Okay, I will stop my daydreaming, and make a request instead: resist all things that imitate humanity. Satan attempts to mimic God to win and woo people away, while bastardizing and twisting all he touches; his is the hand that animates those that want to replace you and I will fakery and fraudulence. He is a self-appointed god, and he hates us, to the point of wanting to annihilate all humans everywhere, and people haven't a clue what they are giving up, every time they give in to his ploys. We are not just losing money when we are deceived, we lose portions of our soul. 

Scripture states eloquently, what you and I cannot find words to express. I leave you with God's Word:

Colossians 2:8

Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ.

2 Timothy 3:13

But evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived.

Doubling Down On Deception

I decided.

I am doubling down on my commitment quotient. I know it's a gamble, but I am game, and wanna really stick to me guns so to speak. If you aren't familiar with the double down, this is what Webster's has to say about the big DD: to become more tenacious, zealous, or resolute in a position or undertaking.

Now some might say, Linda, What are ya, nuts or something? I mean the big DD is crazy talk, and is gonna lose you some respect. You are bout to regret that decision. Well I say to them folk, O no, you can't talk me out of this: I am right, so move along now, go pester someone else with your silly little warnings and kiboshing nonsense. 

I did the right thing, and no one can suggest to me anything otherwise. I like Webster's description of me. Maybe they outta put me picture next to the words with some other words added, with me name included: Linda is so tenacious she is like a rabid dog with a bone and will bite your hand off if you try and take it; Linda's got so much zealous energy, she will fight tooth and nail, almost religiously, to prove her point of being righteously right, and take anyone down that disagrees with her massively correct view; Linda has that certain something, that resolution in her position, and she undertakes to make it well known, that to challenge her, is foolhardy and perhaps even, a little bit dangerous.

Grin, this is impressive to say the least: now to figure out who to contact at Webster's to get this stuff added to their way to impersonal and short description of doubling down. We need real people examples for goodness sakes. Any ideas who to contact, to rectify this whole situation?

Being caustic

Dear reader, of course I was being as caustic in my writing as I possibly could be, because frankly, I am annoyed! I got an email from a brain training company (I will not say their name, because I sent them mail challenging their thinking, in the hope that they snap out of the spell they are in), that spoke about the long term effects of covid, and how brain training helps people to get back to work. They mentioned covid isn't being talked about anymore but there are still many people suffering ... DURRRRR! Yes of course people are suffering, because they were poisoned repeated, and wore masks that left them breathless for months, years even - some people still sport the damn things, forsaking the truth in favour of doubling down on their own self-deception. 

In my neighbourhood, there is a lady that wears a mask while doing lawn work. To ensure no strangers come to her door, she has hung a monstrosity, a black tarp, from her roof, that hangs hideously down to just in front of her steps. She is sending a message: Do not come near. The woman is mentally ill and is clearly, signalling to all, that she has lost all sense of reason, and is tenacious, a zealot, and completely resolute, in her messed up thinking regarding the validity of covid. Why bother gardening ? is what I want to shout out the window when I drive by. Why bother eating, drinking, sleeping, going out into the world, if humans are the enemy and being in contact with them can kill you at any given surprise moment. This woman is living the height of hypocrisy, pretending human life is valuable, hers, but living death on the daily. Her soul is shrivelling up in her self-righteous denial of truth, and it is hard to witness. And she isn't the only one.

There are people filing in and filling hospital hallways and offices, getting treatment for cancer that suddenly came upon them, stage 3, stage 4: surgery, radiation, chemo. Fight Fight Fight the cancer, you brave warrior. Ring the bell; you can beat this thing! This is what people are saying to the suffering, and it hurts my heart to hear it, to read it, and to know that the fluffy words meant to encourage, are just that: empty, meaningless fluff that ought not be spoken to someone that may be facing the end of their life on planet earth, without ever being told that the soul lives on, and doesn't go to a "better place" just because they were considered "a good person". 

Maybe I am doubling down, dear reader. Maybe I am obnoxiously committed to speaking the truth, repeating it ad nauseam. Perhaps I beg and plead with God regularly to change things, spin the dial the other way and have people know that not only were they lied to, they were had, and that the only chance they have to spend eternity with him in heaven, is to admit to all their transgressions, plead for forgiveness, and see that Jesus died for the sins of the world, including theirs. Covid injections were embraced as a saving solution, when nothing could be further from truth. People are sick and dying, and I feel like I am on permanent mute, because people like me voicing what I know, are not appreciated. I don't care really, about my reputation as a covid crank that beats the same drum endlessly ... I care about souls, and their salvation. People were injured from the injections, and now they suffer, while some of us watch, weep, and anticipate bad news.  

Sigh. 

I want to tear down the tarp and tell the woman that God loves her and that she need not act like a crazy woman in control of her own life, because she can't even plan her next breath, or day for goodness sakes. She is dependant, you are dependant, and I too, am dependant, on the Sovereign; the sooner we realize this, the better life gets!

1 Samuel 2:6

The LORD killeth, and maketh alive: he bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth up.

Try to fight the good fight, dear reader, as described in The Bible. It is futile to think that you are in charge of your own existence, since you didn't make yourself and admit it, you wouldn't even know where to start if you thought it possible. Arrogant self-deception keeps people clinging to lies told and believed. Humility lets us off the lie hook when we are willing to say, I was wrong, and now I will be an honest person, for my own sake and the sake of others in my vicinity. That is my challenge to anyone reading this: don't just unsubscribe because you don't like what you are reading, change your ways and listen to Truth, otherwise known, as Jesus Christ.