Healing is Only a Prayer Away!

Find out how to be transformed by the grace of Jesus Christ via Anita Ivette Ferrer blogs. God bless you on your Healing Journey!

Anita Ivette Ferrer

Anita Ivette Ferrer
Asbury Park Angel

Sunday, September 12, 2010


Prayer Breakfast Jumping Brook, Neptune, NJ

Journal Entry, Sept 11, 2010

Music, clapping and loud voices emanated from the dining room where the Prayer Breakfast was to take place at Jumping Brook Gold club Hubby Mark and I entered to see a parade of our warrior saints marching around the rooms with their arms raised in joy.

I know, I was there for one reason, to join forces and celebrate our Heavenly father, the Most high God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. I wanted to unite in power, prayer and authority and give the enemy a couple fo good black eye he would never forget. Our worship leader was roamed around the perimeter of the room like a growling predator seeking its prey. She was spiritually preparing the way for us to surround and conquer.

Our focus was on praying for our nation and polishing our spiritual armor by first crying to God for forgiveness for our personal, community and national sin. The air bristled with the Holy Ghost Power.

Several of our brethren approached to podiums with strong words of faith. With each, word, the momentum of the morning quickened as we listened and agreed their aggressive decrees. God was certainly here this morning and the breakfast could wait!

As I was savoring the Holy Ghost aroma, my camera was taking in all of the excitement of the Holy ghost shenanigans! Donna came up to share a word, Pastor Sandra opened in prayer and then I opened up with what God has so heavily placed on my heart all month. We shall go forth welding God’s power because He ordained it. I prayed for the women of Afghanistan and the middle East, bearing the burden of their stifling Burkas. God was reminding me of how blessed we Christian women were here in the united States. Jesus anointed the women to announce His return right after his resurrection, and we have inherited the blessing!

I prayed out loud boldly, knowing God was listening. I was sharing some of His heart. We were victories soldiers enlisted in God’s army and were always on the front line. We had to be ready and equipped. Our ammunition was powerful prayer and fasting and I even joked that many could afford it. I couldn’t to pray that we would aggressively stem the tide of the enemy by our .fasting like queen Esther beseeching the secular king. We served a mighty God.

But there were also people all over the planet still imprisoned by sin, their tradition and even their own religion. I ended my prayer by saying, America Bless God.

Richard came up, led by the Spirit and spoke about the Koran it’s lies. Then Pastor Sandra asked for any remaining people to speak before she gave the blessing. Mark raised his hand and walked with purpose to the podium. Mark flowed with the Spirit and although not surprised, was moved that he was becoming more and more confident to pray in public and even challenging all to stop, look and listen to what we were allowing to happen in our country by not praying for our president and his cabinet. It was a moving prayer, so similar to Nehemiah’s holy assembly thousands of years ago.

Pastor Ehraim was doing a beautiful job filing, while I continued to take pictures of the significant happens that was taking place before my eyes. Pastor Sandra called me up to share my song, “Psalm 91" as we prepared for Pastor Margaret to come up to give her word.

The stately woman shared from Jeremiah 29:11 and for the next half an hour, we got an amazing sermon about God’s powerful plan for our lives. Pastor Margaret shared her testimony about her healing and then she and the elders laid hands on me. I had to drop my husband off to meet his friend for a week-end getaway. When I back, most of the worshipers had left or were leaving. I saw pastor Margaret and called out to her. I grabbed her with a bear hug and thanked her for the magnificent morning. Her lovely brown eyes radiated with the presence of GOD as she prayed a new unction over me that I know has changed me forever. What a glorious time I had and not even a drop of liquor. No drug or alcoholic drink could compare with being drunk in the HOLY GHOST!

God has placed some ordinary, formerly broken nobodies in Pastor Sandra’s life. Richard, Mike, Donna, Sister Earlie, Mark and I sit under the tutelage as she teaches us to plunge into God’s depths. It is an exciting and arduous journey.

We made a huge dent in hell today, Sept 11, in memory of our comrades and public servants who lost their lives 9 years ago. Yes, our moral fibers have disintegrated drastically, but God is still on the throne. God’s people, though a remnant, are still walking in authority and power in the Holy Ghost. The enemy thinks he’s winning. He may be winning small battles, but the final and greatest battle has been won by Jesus, the King of kings and Lord of Lords.

If we face each day with the power and determination we all felt and experience at that prayer breakfast every week we will be victorious I’m still basking in the Holy embers of our day with the King. We are on the threshold of stupendous miracles and evangelism. God has indeed promoted me to journey in the elite procession of “Worship Warriors’.

He has called us to come up higher to a new level. Lord, here we are. Amen.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

IN the BLINK of an EYE, (DUI)

Journal Entry October 17, 2009

Mark and I were on our way home from a nice dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. I thought about my day and prayed for my family and loved ones who were struggling with their life issues. We were about to make our right turn onto Spring lake Boulevard, when high-beamed headlights veered into our lane. Mark lay on the horn and mumbled out loud,
He suddenly slowed down and pulled over to the shoulder. I was wide awake now.

"Hold on, something’s going on up there," he pointed to our intersection. He pulled over onto the shoulder and got out of the car.

"Wait here until I get back to see what's going on.
Straining to see in the darkness, I saw car hazard lights flashing. In a minute he was back, a look of concern on his face.

“There's a bad accident up there. Get over there quickly and see if anyone needs help. It looks like someone’s about to die."

Adrenaline rushed and panic gripped me as I strained to see through what seemed like a thick, acrid smoke wafting through the night air. I asked the Lord to help me to help someone in such a time of need.

As I approached the scene, now clear as day, I saw a overturned van in the middle of the road. It’s front end was completely sheared off. In my haste to assist Mark, I rushed out of our car bare-footed and gingerly made my way through the glass-littered roadway to the first victim. My heart raced wildly as I surveyed the horrendous scene before me while my eyes misted with sorrow at the outcome of such a tragedy.

It was eerily quiet in light of the violence of the impact that most certainly happened only minutes earlier. As I approached the overturned van, a blood-soaked man lay motionless on his side. I stopped in shock and then turned to see Mark waving his arms, to warm approaching vehicles to stop. My senses took in all the ominous sights, smells and sounds, but I was most aware of the smell of burning rubber still billowing from both impotent vehicles. Directly across the van was a tiny souped-up sport car also overturned. It's front end had also been torn off. I could hear a man moaning out loud as I stood staring at the injured man at the van.

Mark rushed up to me, "What are you doing? We’ve got injured people here?”.

I must have been in shock as I surveyed the grisly scene before me, for I couldn’t move or even think. Mark called out to me again as he rushed back to attend the traffic.

“That one over there,” he said pointing to the man in front of me.
“Lord, help me to attend your healing to this man....I speak life to this” The man groaned softly as I continued to pray and speak life over his body. Although my mind recoiled in utter sadness, I believed even more in Jesus’ power to heal the man. I continued to speak to my Heavenly Father on behalf of this unfortunate stranger who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Precious Jesus, please help us. In your name, this man is healed. We ask you to be here with us.” I bent down and stroked the mans shoulder.

“You’re going to be fine. Jesus is here with us. You’re going to be fine,“ A calmness settled over us as my voice repeated the soothing refrain. I knew all would be well. My thoughts were rambling as my emotions got caught up with the deadly chaotic drama around me. Had I not believed that angels were surrounding and ministering to the man and I, I would not have had strength. My head was still bowed, but I could smell blood and acrid smoke. A young EMT rushed up to us.

“Sir, can you get to your feet?”

I was surprised that with the poor man’s head leaking blood that he would be expected to stand, but the man stirred, groaned and stumbled to his feet. I grabbed his arm and steadied him against the van. Again, I knew the Lord was sustaining me as I was able to steady and hold the man who was twic my weight for what seemed like an eternity.

“Thank you, Jesus. Thank You Jesus.” I continued to stroke the mans shoulder and softly encourage him that he would be fine. I could tell he was weak and trembling, but having a calm composure would mean the difference between his surviving or dying. Blood continued to pour from somewhere in the back of his head, but he kept steady. Another man who sat in the passenger seat with the injured man asked the mans name and if he spoke English. The injured man nodded is head and mumbled that his name was Ahmed

“I kept soothing. Jesus is here with us. Don’t be afraid. It’ll be okay,” Finally another EMT approached us, pushing a stretcher.

“Keep him steady,” He positioned a collar around his neck. I continued to pray for the man even as ambulance, police cars and a fire truck approached the intersection. The badly injured man was lain on a stretcher. My job was done there and I started off to address the needs of the other accident victim.

Lord, touch this man and bring wholeness and peace to this situation,”
I heard the man crying out as I approached the tiny car, now a crumbled heap of twisted metal. He seemed anguished as I saw him trying to move. As I got closer, I shirked back in fear because I couldn’t see his legs. I prayed they weren’t amputated underneath the crushed dashboard and steering wheel.

“Help me. Oh God someone help me,” he cried out.

“It’s okay. I’m here. It’s gonna be okay,” I opened the passenger door and peered in. Thankfully, I didn’t see any blood or severed limbs, just a frightened, disoriented young guy shaking his head back and forth. .
“Hello. Are You okay?” I asked again.

“Where am I? What happened?” he kept sobbing. “I can’t feel my legs...Oh God!”
“What happened?” I asked in concern, “ Did You fall asleep at the wheel?”

“Ahhhh.....I don’t know what happened. All of a sudden I’m here. Get me outta here” He screamed hysterically. I kept praying for God’s peace and wisdom as to how I could assist this man.

“It’s okay, Jesus is here. He sent his angel to comfort you. Be not afraid.,” The words flowed from my mouth as a healing balm that calmed both him and me.

You’re gonna be okay.. God has sent my husband and me to help you.”

“God sent you? Am I gonna hear another sermon, he complained.”I’ve heard enough preaching this week.”

The remark took me by surprised but I continued to give credit to God for the mans fortune. “God knows exactly what’s going on here and He loves you.”

The young guy started to cry.

“Do you live here in Country Lakes?” I asked him. “What is your name?”

“Cool. My ex bass players name was Lance. You/re gonna be fine, lance,” I stroked his arm again.

“My name’s Angel, Lance. God sent you an angel tonight” He started to cry again and grabbed my arm.

“I’m so glad you came here to help me, Angel”.

A policeman, EMTs and firemen with extrication equipment approached us and asked me to be on my way. Other police were blocking of Route 70 for a helicopter to transport the accident victims to the nearest trauma center and hospital.

I stared at the wreckage before me, devastated at the folly. I walked across the highway to where Mark was talking with a young couple who said they saw and heard the accident at the moment of impact. Other drivers also witnessed the accident, but sped away. The husband was angry that anyone could be so cruel and just pass by accident victims in need of help. He also thanked us for being kind Samaritans who were willing to stop and help out.

I gazed at grisly accident aftermath one more time before Mark and I headed for our car towards home. Thankfully were in our own neighborhood and that God had guided us so beautifully that night, to be His hands, heart and feet. I felt humbled and honored to be his angel and servant. That night, as Mark and I prepared for sleep, he shared with me what the couple told him about the driver who caused the accident.

The young man was stationed at Fort Dix and had a huge fight with his girlfriend. He went to the local bar and got drunk, speeding down Spring lake Boulevard at about 70 miles an hour. The young man said, he saw no brake lights or skid marks. He just barreled through the stop sign at the very moment an airport van was traveling east on Route 70. The impact caused the van to spin completely in the opposite direction they were headed for!

The victim most injured just happened to be arriving in the US from the Middle East, Mark also told me that when he first saw the man laying on the side of the van, he couldn’t see his head and though he was decapitated. When he looked closer, the impact had gauged a massive hole in his scull. I’m glad I hadn’t seen it because it would have traumatized me deeply.

I must admit, few people really understand the implications of such an experience, but I am grateful for the strength, comfort and loving presence of my Heavenly Father. I was so moved by this experience, that a few days later, I wrote lyrics and music for my song, “In the Blink of an Eye, (DUI) I believe God wants me to present this powerful and sobering message to our American people about the necessity of driving awareness.

Text messaging, cell phone use and DUI has claimed the lives of thousands of precious loved ones and permanently maimed thousands more! I can’t stress enough the urgency of respect life while driving. I take my driving as seriously as I do my career. As a matter of fact, driving should be as important as a career, not a leisurely, careless joyride. Mark and I drive thousands of miles a year and we’re shocked everyday, but the people we catch crossing lanes doing 60 while on their cell phones and not remembering to make their turn signal

I don’t know what it will take to make the roads safe for our loved ones. I know that the night that man arrived in America, he never expected to have his life change in the blink of an eye. All it takes is a second to take your eyes off the road or cut some one off and cause a pile up on the Free way. Just one second.....

We’ll take our driving seriously when it hits our own home.

Drive as if your life depended on it!

Wednesday, August 25, 2010


Journal Entry, August 23, 2010

Summer will soon pass. Fall has already made herself known through the subtle changing of leaves and the early crickets and cicadas. My favorite time of the year ends too quickly while the anguish of this stubborn vertebra/spine condition continues its incessant misery. I refuse to allow this difficult trial to overcome me and I continue to stand form in my faith as well as touching deeply the people who come through my life.

These times and people are the fodder that make my book, life and story so compelling. Baby step by baby step, I make progress with my 5 book series, “Arise From Your Grave!” Sue Ross, my mentor and publicist has been very supportive as we draft the details of my business plan. Amazing that I go through my darkness and she has just recently gone through hers. Now she is truly able to empathize with my illness.

My music has still been a sad area as I put it one the back burner of my spirit. Seeing and listening to the quality of other artists recordings only rubs salt in my wounds. I wonder why God didn’t allow me to be surrounded and tutored by knowledgeable collaborators and musicians who knew what the current sound is. These have had the luxury of enjoying their honing of their craft, going to music college, having professional music lessons and having parents or friends in the business to help them polish their art. Amazing the vibrant health to be able to tour and travel to shows and stay up late hobnobbing with the finest. I know if God gave me the chance, I could be a Celine Dion.

My flesh lusts after great health and polished collaborators, producers and engineers, but I brush aside the need less sadness that I know is the enemy trying to make me look backwards! That is always His device, to make us lust after the garlic and the leeks of EGYPT, lol! .

So I cherish the funeral services I’ve sung at, holding hands with weeping family members and sitting at the feet of Jesus. I thank God for the opportunity to give a 89 year old man, walking with a cane in the rain, down Route 70. I’m driving a BMW sport car, but I’m just like that old man, broken, needy and so in need of Jesus grace.

This is my 12 year delivering telephone books for PDC. This time, rather than ask God why I’m not on tour and performing at Carnegie Hall, I thank Him for His presence and for being able to get my favorites routes in the areas I like. Each year, I find beautiful furniture left out on the curb or make a new friends for life. I love the fresh air, exercise and being with my little cat, Peewee. A girl couldn’t ask for more.

Yes, the road has been, (and still is) so long. I go to bed at night and believe that tomorrow I ‘ll no longer have the horrendous cracking in my jaw and the unbearable fatigue. Less and less, I’m asking God not to let me wake up in the morning.

When I visited Daddy and Cruz, my Aunt Brenda had come from North Jersey to visit. Three of my other precious aunts called me up, specifically to pray for me. One of my aunts said she prays for me everyday. As well as dear brothers and sisters from my churches and my artist/musicians friends online. Only God knows all the people praying for me.

I look forward to learning about the mysterious craft of pop songwriting with my new friend Clif, a gifted songwriter. Since he's come into Mark's and my life, he's shown an interest in helping me to hone my artist as a mentor and guide. Had Clif been my music mentor ten years ago, where would I be?

I think about these things...the loss of my health, the long passage of time, my age and the wasted money and resources because of creating without the proper guidance and tools. I’ve learned now to be grateful for the smallest thing. Most of all, I have a compassion and pity for those who have nothing, no destiny, no plan and no hope. Struggling, lacking, failing and suffering teaches you to be compassionate and eager to guide, nurture and help others soar into their destiny...because you know what it’s like to have everything against you.

I pray that everyday, I will immediately put myself in another’s shoes...imagine what it’s like and God will take it from there!

Monday, July 12, 2010


Why? The ages old poignant wracking of the senses regarding senseless suffering or injustice. WHY does God allow such evil and suffering?

My lovely songbird friend, a mother of a small son and very idealist, cried to me not many afternoons ago. Her life is in shambles and she wonders how she can redeem herself from her credit rating destroyed by her irresponsible soon-to-be ex husband. She was distraught, but proceeded to share her feelings about a young humanitarian church woman who was followed from her church by a man who then brutally raped and murdered her.She could not understand why God did not step in the save this woman from her horrndous demise.
My friend and I are both very creative in art, music and fashion

Life happens and reality reigns.Though poets and artists hope their art will change the world, the reality is we are just a drop in the bucket. Lately, several in my inner circle sing the same refrain, "I am weary, burned out and ready to go home." I too, long to go home to be with Christ, my King where he will rule justly and there will be no more tears nor injustice.

As I write this entry, a soft rain falls. My front lawn is nothing more than dry, maize straw. I pray there will be enough moisture to restore the barren, parched grass into wholeness as I await my own parched spirit to regenerate into the fullness I used to have. I ponder the conversations of my closet confidants who poured there hearts out to me regarding many unpleasantness happening in the lives the past year.

"I can't understand what is going on," they say, exasperated.
The doubtful and the unbelieving ask, "Where is God in all this." I've been around the block long enough to know that God is in the midst of our most fiery trials. He never promised to keep us from them, but he did promise to be with us through them.

My temple has fallen apart the past three years. Every organ and gland in my body was damaged by the Lyme spirochete.My health practitioner, Natalia recently retested me with her digital diagnostic machine and smiled in pleasure.I had improved about 40%. We gazed at my first test. She looked at me,

"Young lady, I didn't want to frighten you last year, but you were very near paralysis." Tears filled my eyes as I ascertained God's mercy in helping me to decree that I would recover fully.As I gaze at the dry, nearly dead lawn in front of me, I see the parallel God shows me, his miraculous hand and restorative power! My redeemer lives, but had my words and healing declarations not be said...where would I be now?

God was cultivating a radical concept and practical formula of recovery and it was by speaking aloud His spoken Word. Do I believe that He is the resurrection and the life?

I call myself a Christian, a little Christ, an imitator of my Master who bought me with a great price at Calvary by His shed blood. At this stage in my faith walk, do I truly believe He is who He said He is?

Grueling tests before and at present, disappointments, acute physical and mental anguishes, heartaches, alienations, postponed dreams and visions.

Mary groaned about her brother Lazarus's death, weeping, "Lord, if you had been there, my brother would not have died."

And Jesus, answered, "Did I not say to you that if you believe You would see the glory of God?"

faith that pleases God must encapsulate unwavering and consistent belief and trust in what He will bring to pass, regardless of what is NOT. Having that strong, unwavering faith and trust avails the promise...His word. Faith is a choice. I choose life if I want to live Duet. 30:19.

We must ask, seek and knock. Will we expect to receive anything from God when we are shifting back and forth like the waves of the sea. God has committed our lives to success and restoration. Sometimes He will take us through the roughest and most barren terrain and leave us to die...before He will resurrect us!

My own tests have pushed me to the very limits of my human and spiritual endurance. In my grasping for tangible relief or trusting in my own efforts, I have failed to receive the promise already mine. I stand at the crossroads and await His direction. The saints before me cheer me on as I lift myself up from a fall.

This is what the journey is about, trusting Him even living in a broken body. Do I believe that He is my healer and that I am made whole? Do you believe?

Monday, June 21, 2010

MY BED in HELL, Journal Entry, March, 20, 2010

When God throws you into the sea of turmoil, you claw for life like a terrified cat thrown into the river for the first time. There is no rhythm to the undulation of daily pain and I'm more consumed with the torment that my hell will never end. The more I struggle to clamor into the presence of the King, the more I'm pulled in different opposing directions, yet I still grope for El Shaddai, the God of all comfort.

As I type and compose this message, every other word is misspelled and needs to be spell-checked. The former flowing creatively thoughts flowing from my mind is now interrupted by the ugly chore of going backwards each sentence to correct misspellings and typos. Very fun.

This miserable condition called Dystonia has truly made life and living a chore. The hobbies and gifts I've enjoyed in the past are nothing more than a ritualistic way to move past the hours in the hopes that maybe tomorrow, the incessant spasms will end and I can move forwrd to enjoy my life and what God has called me to do.

I want to run. I want to hide. I want to be carried off into Elijah's chariot away from the pulling of my spirit, the irritations of my soul and the constant, exhausting efforts of opposing and pushing against. And there are many who are in worse conditions than I. Poor souls who cannot even speak, they must talk through an electronic instrument. Some cannot feed themselves their hands are gnarled and drawn up to their chests.

Dystonia a living hell I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy. This trial has been too long for me, three years and two months. I must pretend to be happy, after all I'm a long-time Christian. Christians should NOT reveal their pain and disgust with themselves or their sufferings...and when they do, they are rebuked and so-called friends will disconnect because they cannot handle the ugliness of the reality of chronic illness.

Count it all brethren...but don't complain OUT loud. No one wants to hear you die, LOL!

Sometimes I hold on and put on a strong face, but I'm not really strong. Any supplement or treatment that gives me the hope of some relief, I'll take.

And so, tomorrow is another day. I wonder how long Job suffered scraping himself of his boils. How many months or years before God gave him back his health, His children and his wealth? How many of us have truly wept at the suffering of this faithful man? He is now my second hero after Jesus Christ, of course. What piety and nobility that Job said, "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed is the name of the LORD. Yet though HE slay me."

I concur with you, Job! Where can I go from the Lord. Whether I make my bed in hell or reach the lofty mountain tops, I lift up my eyes to Lord in n whom my helps comes from. So be it Amen.

Friday, May 28, 2010


Journal Entry, May 27, 2010
An ominous, voluminous unseen cloud ever closer, enveloping my hopes, dreams, vision and sometimes even my God given promises and His truth. The cloud is called injustice and it has not only pervaded my life, but almost every person on this planet from the beginning of time til the present and even threatening the future.

My first encounter with injustice was experiencing the event of a policeman evicting me from my home because of a phone call from my emotionally disturbed mom. It was the beginning of a string of negative events of rejection, homelessness and depression that I have thankfully overcome through God's healing restoration.

If injustice were just my past, dead and gone, it would surely have been vanquished by my Faith decrees. But injustice prevails, a perpetually glutenous entity devouring unknowing and gullible victims of the present. Injustice deeply grieves me and history has depicted its cruel grasp on humanity.

Victims come in all colors, age groups, faiths, sizes and creeds. Priest and kings, slaves and the middle class have been dragged into captivity during the siege of Jerusalem by the King of Babylon.

Insecure, fragile, aspiring and vivacious women are beguiled and brutalized by violence and intimidation, (and sometimes even murder) by insecure, mentally ill, partners African villagers have been murders by terrorists wielding axes all because of the size of their noses Genocide has scourged people from the earliest times The status of helpless, unborn babies is still be debated while thousands more are ripped apart in their own mothers wombs, which become their own bloody tombs.

Unconventional and struggling artists and musicians combat rejection from an industry that hasn't the time for constructive criticism and guidance because they are too busy empowering the machine for lucrative gain. many spirits have been broken.

Prejudice, discrimination, short attention-spans and greed have opened the door to a technology-driven culture that becomes colder and number each day.

Millions of illegal immigrants continue to pour through our borders, draining our economy and burdening hard-working, tax payers and legal immigrants, (who gained citizenship by the book) who are rightful citizens. The middle class are bearing the weight of this fiasco injustice.

Many Americans foresee their future with great trepidation because of a president who has whose agenda is teh most liberal of any president in office. What is the future of our children? Will they enjoy the Christian liberties we have enjoyed for decades or will they suffer the constraints of Socialism and worse yet, Communism? r Are we paying attention to what is happening with out beloved nation?

Our health care care system will usher in changes that will affect out and our childrens lifetime.

I am told to rest in the Lord and meditate on Him. Most assuredly, underlying, unconscious thoughts about my country's future are contributing to the Dystonia nervous symptoms I've been struggling with. God's peace passes all understanding and no weapon formed against me shall prosper. That is true.

However, how do I address and curtail these broiling emotional issues as I ponder their repercussions? What do I do about the unconscious grievances for the slaughtered unborn babies, oil spills that have killed sea life and our environment, battered women and their children, martyred saints and the victims of genocide? Our soldiers paid a great price for freedom and justice for all Americans and yet...have we forgotten? It's business as usual for most.

Too many are mindlessly ignoring the condition of our culture, preferring to be politically correct. Morality of our nation is declining with the impending threat of socialism. I am a patriot and though I love peace...I hate evil. I despise the evil oppressing the weak. And I know that God despises evil overpowering the defenseless victim. He is a just and loving God.

How do I balance hating what is evil and resting in the shadow of the Almighty's wings? I cannot be a hypocrite and embrace the beginnings of socialism, abortion and genocide/ethnic cleansing. I cannot smile idly while a liberal agenda threatens out society as we knew it and for what courageous veterans, (many of who lost their lives in battle) fought for our freedom and the right to protest!

I cannot stand neutral of issues of absolute right and wrong for it is my moral and godly responsibility to uphold those things that my Lord and Savior taught and preached against. ...justice and liberty for all. I have seen many Christian friends seek the admiration of men, but I am a God-pleaser.

This is a sad time where many will lose their lives and our Nation will be turned upside down. As for me and my house...we will serve the Lord!

Saturday, February 20, 2010


A landslide threatens to sweep me down the mountainside. All of my Christian strategy and knowledge have failed lately and my I feel like a teapot about ready to blow its top. When the rubber hits the road, the bottom line is that daily living and life can seem impossible to balance. I can't take anymore.

The last straw is ready to take my back down. The pain in my jaw and neck have been almost unbearable and it takes about 25 minutes for the muscles of my jaw, neck and throat to get relaxed, so I can fall asleep. I lay in bed, cry and can barely even intercede in prayer with You and Me's Pastor Dortch.

My precious father has been in the hospital for many weeks again and I miss him so. Seeing him suffer so and the doctors having no idea how to treat him has really discouraged me and I have lost hope in the medical system. They have done nothing more me either and I languish here.

God can be my ONLY hope to healing me and bringing this awful pain to pass.
My own mother ans sister have also alienated themselves from me. I am so spend from the relational and spiritual tug of war that pulls at my soul. And I try to be a listening ear for those in my circle who are going through their own hurricanes. It is heartbreaking to see so many people who are juggling multiple storms.

Some turn to music, some to drugs, some give up and become hermits and isolate themselves. I cry. All I can do is weep for us all. Can anyone remedy all this hurt?
MY poor husband is tire and angry...burned out by awaking at 5:30 am every morning and having to fight traffic for an hour. He is battered by the onslaught of arrogant service men who are unhappy with their routes, some are hunters who brag about all the does and fawns that they've shot and supervisors who criticize and accuse him that he is not doing his job properly. How can I expect him to have patience with me and my lack of patience. Several of our unruly male cats takes over the house jumping onto the stove and counter to get into and drag food all over the place. How many times have I asked hubby to supervise their activities? The white ferret chews apart every rubber and plastic item she can get sink her teeth into and uses every corner of the house as her toilet area. Frustrating!?

Besides trying to balance all my errands and duties of my indie music ministry which in itself entails a myriad of small things to be accomplished. Not to forget my heart of compassion for the many in my life who are going through unbelievable heartbreak, deaths of loved ones and serious illness. Quite a few more new people on my personal prayer list. I see their facers in the night as I lay in bed and wish I could quenceh every sorrow and tear from their eyes! Does anyone care?

The life of a Servant of God in these times can be overwhelming and heavy. I barely have the energy to be submissive and soft spoken and my strong voice betrays my frustration. Disagreements are fighting fire with fire. Unconsciously, my emotions are like tender fists in boxing gloves, held up against my husband unintentional blows. He never means me harm, but in my fragile, tender and angst-ridden state, every statement seems like a condescending barb. He's too worn out to deal with anything more than a dirty litter box. I must quietly find someplace else or some other ears to protest about the unnecessary nonsense I've dealt with.

So where does a small warrior go for rest? Thank God for tears and a gentle kitten or else surely I'd go mad. I want to make to world go away. Even more I want to be translated and get off this planet. The enemy has released legions of demons upon this planet and all are inundated with every type to irritant. Sickness, family schisms in families, prodigal children, adulterous spouses, bankruptcies, unemployment, car problems. We're waging a raging war. As enlisted soldiers, we won't survive unless we're bathed in the Holy Spirit's strength and wearing the armor of God.
When faced with a landslide, one must STAND! God know how much we can handle...and sometimes it is an amazing amount. Imagine that He thinks we can actually handle it! OH...but we need to help carry each others burden.

Shepherd, we are weary.