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She was so beautiful.

Long, lovely hair. A cloud. A mane. She was known, above all, for her beautiful hair.

Her dancing smile. The way her blue eyes lit up. The little crinkles at the corners of her mouth. Her little giggly laugh. The shy smile that lit up everyone’s life when she finally smiled.

How her dog died, and that dog meant everything to her. She didn’t think anyone would get it. She apparently had it all together. Successful, money, husband, nice house, good looking children. For all that, she was alone.

That dog meant everything, and when she died, world was wrecked. No one knew.

Her life was a story of, “I Wish Mommy Loved Me.”

Growing up, awkward, braces once. Glasses. Her brother was in love with a beautiful girl from church; the whole family loved her. We won’t talk about her brother. Her other brother was in love with the same girl.

Beautiful girl from church, who she wanted to be like in every way, once told her, “You are beautiful. You will grow up to be beautiful.”

And so it was.

But she took the home she grew up in with her, in her heart. Beautiful girl did grow up to be beautiful. Grew her long, thick, lovely hair that was her chief beauty. Went to school; did all the right things. Married a good husband; someone who was successful, made a lot of money, would take care of her.

She was told to do all that, and she did it very well, methodically, and faithfully. That’s who she was.

She took the home she grew up in with her, in her heart, and scars, and secrets. The person who hurt her, and she had to leave home. She was thrown out and he stayed.

Mommy love me. Why won’t you love me?

The song in her heart, carried through life as the world grew progressively darker. Life didn’t get better. She was promised, if you just do the right things, all that would fix everything. Success at work. Success in school. And she taught that to her children, who also faithfully obeyed and did likewise.

Mommy love me. Please.

And the man who hurt her, when she found out he was hurting beautiful girl from church, who he had married, just like he hurt her, she didn’t save beautiful girl. She herself hadn’t been saved.

Mommy and Daddy knew, just like they knew in childhood. About everything. How he hurt her, and she was the one who had to leave. A message written on everything she was, and ever became.

She didn’t save beautiful girl. And this cut deep, where she didn’t acknowledge it. Deep like a sword, and this sword ultimately slew her.

Mommy and Daddy hated beautiful girl, rejected her, did terrible things to her. Protected the man instead, just like in childhood. If I reject beautiful girl too, and help them, Mommy will finally love me.

And so she did.

And we won’t discuss that.

When you choose evil, evil chooses you. It overtakes you. Eventually you are running from the evil you chose and now regret, but you can no longer escape it. At all.

And the sword of “I will do anything so Mommy loves me” eventually became a very terrible dark shadow monster which slew her, in a very horrible fashion.

This Story Is A Tragedy

I want to write a happy ending, but I must write the actual one. I wanted the ending where she learned she was loved by the Lord even if Mommy never loved her at all. I wanted the ending where she was healed and whole, and finally happy.

No one got that ending. We all got the shadow monster ending, and have to live with this.

This is the ending we actually got. Where Old Yeller, a faithful and beloved dog, gets rabies and has to be put down. Cannot be spared. Cannot be allowed to live this way.

No one wanted the Old Yeller ending. No one EVER wants the Old Yeller ending. Above all Jesus doesn’t.

Jesus who formed every feather of the sparrow you saw this morning. Every complex feather, every fine bone, breathed life into it. Knows the sparrow’s name, her little bird thoughts.

Jesus knows why the sparrow sings.

Every plant, every tree. A leaf. Everything that ever was, or will be. Jesus passionately cares about ALL of it.

So We Are Here To Remember What Was Good

And know that Jesus cried. He cried buckets during the Old Yeller ending. And is devastated today, in every way.

It is cloudy and overcast here today, a bit cool. Good weather to say goodbye to someone Jesus and I loved so deeply.

 

Goodbye, beautiful girl. The world is a sadder, darker place without you today.

Love, Jesus and Amy 

https://youtu.be/D3wYqB3WKLM

 

 

 

Pastor Timothy Goldeneagle recently pastored a church for many years in a small town somewhere in the desert. His Lord recently called him to a new mission on a mountain, where he continues the work the Lord gave him.

What do you do when life just freaking traps you?

You have been through so so much. Death and life again. Amy here talks about Roy, who was someone really really important to her. She continues to be devastated by all he did.

Roy made a bad choice. Amy has to pay for all he did now, and that irks me to no end.

But I am not here to discuss Roy’s choice, but mine. The pastor who died, then lived. Tried to do it all right, yes I did Lord. Only You and I know all I went through.

How that little church wouldn’t let me go. Rebirth but into old life. And no one around me wanted to change, or even wanted me to change. Business as usual. Let’s just go back to the way it has always been.

A long time ago, in another life, I watched this blog in horror as Amy reluctantly lowered the hammer on a friend, someone she really dearly loved. The Lord handed Amy a paddle, said go spank your sister. Amy didn’t want to, but she was obedient and did it. Then had a really bad day that day.

I then watched everything Amy said would happen, happen. I told the person, if Amy did something nice for you, you should have just thanked her. Just said thank you, ok???

We have all learned so so much since that day in another life. I have seen it rain. And I have seen it rain fire, brimstone, coal, and large hailstones too.

The Tempter

Temptation comes in many forms. I had a personal tempter, living in my house under my roof. An ancient evil truly. No one but Jesus knows all I suffered.

Amy kinda had some idea. She still doesn’t know, and if I have my way, she never will.

But she knew enough to know it was bad. Keeping Amy out of all our business, it was always such a problem. She is incredibly smart, smartest person I know and I include myself in that. Perceptive.

And Jesus tells her anything He wants her to know, and that, my friend, is the scariest prospect of all when you have so many secrets to hide.

Keep her far far out on the edges. So she doesn’t know what’s up, what we are really doing. Amy always knew anyway. The littlest things spoke volumes. Keep her away totally; well we tried that and that did not work either.

My personal demon, my torturer lived with me, day and night. Couldn’t get away. And this person often let me know how in control of my life they were, how they pulled all the strings, knew all the secrets. If you slip, if you do not do as I say, your life is over. I hold all the keys.

You are allowed a role. You have so beyond messed up you are no longer in control. You’re just a figurehead now. Go run services, and we will run the church.

So there I was, a prisoner in my own realm. Supposedly running the whole thing, but really I practically had to ask permission just to wipe my butt. If I got permission to leave and go to the bathroom, that is.

There was the bright sunny church on the surface, and then there was the darkness beneath no one knew. The (not literal) subterranean caverns of the spirit. I am speaking spiritually; there is no cave system that I know of where I was.

I am saying happy church was the tip of the iceberg, and the reality was the dark, mysterious, scary iceberg. It was actually more like that town out of Indiana Jones: The Crystal Skull. It looks happy and peaceful. It just exists to be blown away in a nuclear blast.

 

Exiting In A Refrigerator

I expected to be more amused by this clip. Indiana Jones survived it all in a refrigerator, and he even more improbably meets a creature Amy assures me is a prairie dog. The movie continues.

But it is too too close to real life; I am honestly shivering and it is a warm day.

The fake…everything. Smiles. Everything literally plastic. Ice cream. Kids. People watering the lawn.

We look so great…we are so convincing. Just like a real town. Real house with real furniture, and even a show on the TV. All very convincingly normal.

Except the whole town was just built for a nuclear test. To perish in nuclear fire. And no other reason.

Indy doesn’t waste time. He is given one exit option: the refrigerator. He takes it; he literally doesn’t have any other choices. Improbably, this works.

A Little Entrance Conceals Much

I am picking on this well known base in Colorado as they track Santa yearly. I am assuming they do other things as well; I am not privy to whatever they are doing there.

I chose this image as this is the entrance to NORAD near Colorado Springs. It is very unassuming. There is a little guard post, a small stretch of road, and then a tunnel entrance. Looks pretty normal and unassuming.

What’s inside though?

Apparently a Stargate! According to a popular TV show. Maybe aliens from the Stargate! Santa may need help; they probably use the Stargate if the reindeer are tired or something.

The point is the government is doing stuff there they don’t want people to know. They have a big base and you don’t get to go in without permission. All you see on the outside is a little guardpost and an unassuming tunnel entrance. But inside is…SECRETS.

Amityville Spiritual House Of Love Was Like That

That’s not the real name; it is just the name I chose for the blog after making sure there is no real place named this. Apologies if there is, but I checked. Noticing the acronym is ASH. Terribly appropriate, honestly.

Happy faces on the outside. Go in the tunnel, get past the guardpost, and you find out what is in the funhouse. There were clowns. And other things.

That is a nice picture of a clown. I could have chosen a scary one. Our clowns were not nice clowns. At all. The other stuff was also not nice.

Keeping Amy outside and not letting her through the tunnel was a PERPETUAL problem. She didn’t like to be detained at the guardpost. Her sharp eyes might notice something odd about the trucks that did go through the tunnel entrance. Forever living in fear she would know all, tell someone.

We all lived in fear of Jesus too. The last day, the very last. The signs Jesus left at the library in chalk for Amy. Not one. Many. All colors.

“Break Every Chain” said one. The rocks will cry out.

Everyone knew if Jesus had scrawled signs in chalk at the library for Amy, however He accomplished it, the end was near.

Amy Had Gone Solo Mountaineering

In this post, Amy explains her journey up the mountain and why. She went alone as she felt she couldn’t ask for help. From anyone. Solo mountaineering is a good way to commit suicide. Amy knew this.

She went and didn’t care whether or not she survived. She in fact fully expected to perish on the mountain.

Jesus didn’t let her. But she was stuck on the mountain, with no way down ever. Just her and Jesus.

I couldn’t let her be there alone. I could not. ASH was why she crawled up there. She asked ASH for help and they stole from her instead. More than one thing. More than one time too.

All Amy had ever learned is the answer is always no, and all doors are always closed. She could write a college curriculum on evil and teach master classes in it, having learned all knowledge as VICTIM. She really knows nothing about love, grace, or goodness.

She made it up the mountain, survived the trip, but she was alone.

I Was Stuck In ASH, In One Of Our Many Torture Chambers

You obviously do not show the torture chambers to guests. They might get upset, especially as you are supposedly a church or something. The torture chambers don’t literally exist, like there is also no cave system in that town.

But they are real nonetheless, and people do suffer in them.

I had my own personal chamber in my home, set up and maintained by my personal demon. The person was expert in all the instruments of pain and kept adding new ones.

I had realized ASH was going to eventually perish in nuclear fire (again not literally), had decided I didn’t want to be there when it all went up, and was once again planning my escape. Refrigerator did not seem to be a viable option, however.

I Went To Join Amy On The Mountain

Amy thoughtfully arranged for Jesus to turn me into an eagle, so in the end I just flew to Amy’s mountain and there we both now live. And will always live. The mountain is outside of time and eternity. It is amazing Amy got to a trailhead. I will wonder for all eternity how she even made it to the trailhead outside of time.

Jesus arranged for us to have a covenant relationship with each other, which He has executed and fulfilled. It is unbreakable by life, death, time, space, eternity, Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, nuclear fire, cockroaches and prairie dogs. There are no refrigerators on the mountain.

We have to have somewhere to live, obviously. Jesus doesn’t want us to camp. So I built us a castle, put all our names on it everywhere, every stone I laid. Our life on and in every stone. Put up a banner when I was complete, and had made sure there were no more ties back to Amityville Spiritual House of Love, nor would there ever be again.

The banner says, “You Have No Power Over Me.”

There are angels on the mountain, obviously. More than one kind. Demons not welcome. Ever.

https://youtu.be/or_AwJelTTM

https://youtu.be/IqHtVrBkDaI

It can be so hard to resist the old tempters. But eventually they all fall.

 

Praise Jesus for the victory! Amen!

Sometimes life is so incredibly, stupidly hard.

I am talking to someone on Facebook. I won’t say who. He is going on about how he is single, check me out ladies. People bother him; they were mean and he felt upset and decided life was over.

The truth is actually a quiet desperate plea he wrote in Spanish. Forgetting many people know Spanish. I read it. Said, I will keep this in my prayers.

Talking to him, saying, keep living. Don’t let stupid people get you down. Don’t let someone else’s decisions end your life. Their behavior is a reflection on them and not your value.

Right now life is great. New beginnings; I am honestly excited. The beginning of the rest of a good life.

Already he and I are overwhelmed by the past. Trying to dig out of the mess we left behind.

Grief and sorrow. Over how others broke our heart.

Broken hearts mend, but this takes time. Facing all that was done to us. Sitting there, realizing people crapped on us and having to deal with this, and realize it is a thing.

Going through life, realizing it wasn’t all my fault after all. That I did a lot of stuff wrong, but so much wrong was done to me too. That I was trapped in so many ways. That even after I got right with Jesus, I was ensnared by all those who wouldn’t let me walk with Him, do what He said.

So we cut the ropes and now I am free. I will never fly that way again, or anywhere near where I can be caught and trapped.

I flew to the mountain. My last message was, the Lord tried my heart. And found it true. I am going to meet you at the mountain, honey; I am coming there to you. Wait for me.

And there we are. We are on the mountain, and we will never leave this mountain. Only Jesus can get you here. It is a very special place.

Watching the firework show. And wondering what is next from here.

The Lord said, daily bread. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Don’t stockpile. Live today.

Grief and sorrow and pain. And dealing with who we are, how we feel about all that was done.

But even when we fail, Jesus never does. ❤

I met a new friend recently. I will call her Miss Sunshine.

Miss Sunshine did something hard no one else wanted to do with me. She talked with me about Roy. How I had loved him, but also let his bad decisions wreck my life.

That I needed to stop letting people do that, stop hooking up with abusers. Stop letting myself be in situations where people intended and did harm continually.

Roy sincerely meant well, sincerely loved me, but he made bad decisions nonetheless. He wasn’t malicious. But he was bad for me and my life was worse after.

Miss Sunshine said, stop that. Value yourself more than that. Don’t let any mortal human take over your life and wreck it. No matter who.

Get your life stable; live it sensibly. Recover from what you have been through. No more abusers!

Miss Sunshine was scared to have that talk with me. The situation with Roy was pretty much 99% him and 1% me.

But if Miss Sunshine didn’t address the 1%, it would continue, and we cannot have this.

Grateful beyond words she told me to get my crap together and make no deals with abusers.

 

So this is a message for all the heroes.

The Avengers.

 

Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

 

A woman who gets up daily, after fighting her own personal battles whatever they may be, flashes that famous smile, and uses the platform she was given to make the world a better place.

 

Heroes behind the scenes.

https://youtu.be/gCQoTjZvCm4

 

Mighty birds of prey, of all kinds.

https://youtu.be/DRv2cVF0CdM

 

Dreamers. Of all kinds.

 

We are all in a battle. A battle between Good and Evil. Our enemies take different forms. Sometimes they are literal demons. Sometimes they are an ugly boss. Sometimes an unhinged person with a gun. Sometimes a twisted miserable bitter lady in a flower print shirt, who is only known for selfishness and making life worse for all.

Our battlegrounds are where we live. Where we work. The far reaches of the globe, places public and secret.

“Master,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we tried to stop him, because he is not one of us.”

“Do not stop him,” Jesus said, “for whoever is not against you is for you.” ~ Luke 9:49-52, NIV.

The time is short, and the battles are getting thicker. The enemies stronger, braver. More numerous.

Hold your position. And continue to carry on the mission, whatever it is.

Saved Sinner Seren Wild, out.

Here I come.

The Bottom

At the bottom of the mountain, it was warm. I bought gear.

I had my hiking boots, good ones. Socks. A backpack with everything I needed: food, water, first aid kit, ropes if necessary. Extra clothes and a coat because it would be cold at the top. A rain poncho in case of rain. Sunblock so going up in elevation didn’t scorch me. And whatever else I wanted to take with me.

I had my sign all made. The sign you make when you scale a mountain. You go to the top, have someone take a picture of you holding the sign. The sign says the name of the mountain and the elevation. You stand there holding the sign as proof you made it. I packed that too.

I wasn’t sure who was going to take the picture, as I was headed up alone. This isn’t recommended. Solo mountaineering is a good way to commit suicide honestly.

Going Up Alone

Years ago, a devastated boyfriend whose marriage proposal I sadly had to refuse did a lot of that. Solo climbs, extreme skiing, dares because he didn’t really care whether or not he lived. He did live. But at the time recklessness sounded like a good way to accidentally die. The view would be great; he would go out gloriously.

He lived. And joined ski patrol because all that extreme skiing made him really really good at mountaineering and skiing.

But I had no one. Last relationship got off right before the wedding. Sorry honey, I am breaking the engagement. With my death.

We won’t be getting married tomorrow. Or ever.

The Eagle

So there I was. There was a great eagle high above me. Beyond law. Beyond time. Hovering high over me. Semper Fi. Great glorious golden wings, magnificent strong talons. A fierce and utterly beautiful bird of prey.

But the eagle was at the top of the mountain, and I at the bottom, and I had no one to help me make the summit.

Jesus was obviously with me. But no one else.

I Set Out

So I went, and, with the last of my money, geared up for the climb.

I had nowhere else to go. All options foreclosed. No way back. If I survived and actually made it to the top, I had no idea what next.

Roy didn’t drown, but he might as well have. Deep at the bottom of the sea, unreachable, lost forever in the trackless waves.

I had enough provisions to make it to the top. That was it. I knew I needed to make the climb. A genuine one way trip. Just enough to make summit. No idea what then.

The Journey Begins

I packed everything in my old truck and drove it to the trailhead. Got my huge backpack, and was very glad life had made me strong enough to carry that thing.

I took the keys with me. I would never drive the truck again. Wondered what would happen to it, would someone just steal it. Who knows.

I took a deep breath, one last look at my truck that had seen me through everything, made sure my boots were properly laced, and set off.

The sign on the trailhead said “Garden of Gethsemane.” How ironic. A wooden sign, with the letters woodburned into it, with cracked and peeling paint.

The trail wasn’t well maintained; it honestly looked like no one ever came that way.

There was one old trash can at the bottom of the trailhead; no liner. I wondered when the last time was anyone ever touched that trash can. Shrugged, holstered my backpack, and set off.

The Forest

I left early in the morning, of course, while it was cool but not too cool. If I wanted to make summit before dark I needed to allow enough time to see to get up there. I set out at dawn.

The beautiful dappled light shone through the thick pine trees. The trail was really badly maintained; a lot of pine needles and roots. Rocks, lots of rocks. I stepped carefully.

Very quiet. Where are the birds, I wondered. The silence almost eerie. The forest was thick; didn’t allow through a lot of light. Just enough to make me remember it was morning.

The Trail

After awhile, nothing but the trail. Just me, the forest, and the trail. No sense of direction. I hadn’t brought a compass. The trail takes you to the top. Or it does not. If you get lost, you’re lost. And maybe you die. Solo mountaineering is a bad bad idea; do not do this.

Especially as I had told no one where I was going. No one to tell. If I died on the mountain, I would die. No one would literally ever know. They would find my abandoned truck, conclude I was up there somewhere. The mountain is too huge; I could be literally anywhere. I would disappear.

I knew this and absolutely planned for that.

The Perils Of The Trail

I really hoped I would encounter neither mountain lions or bears. I am not a good runner and bears climb trees. I was wearing bells in case of grizzlies, but I was probably dead if I encountered either. So just prayed for mercy on the ascent.

If I hit a rock, turned my ankle, broke my leg, I was also dead with no one to help. Not going to heroically chop an arm or leg off to survive. It was a one way trip as I said.

I didn’t even know what was up the trail. Would I find a bridge that was out, uncrossable. Would I have to scale a cliff and literally hope for the best. I really didn’t know. Just one foot in front of the other.

With luck I would survive and make the top.

I Break Through The Forest

I spent a long time in that freaking forest. Lower elevations are pretty much pine trees pine trees pine trees. On this mountain they hadn’t been half killed by bark beetles or fires. They were all strong and healthy, tall. So therefore the cover was thick. And the light dim.

Just follow the trail, hope it leads to the top and I got good directions and the map was right. If not, well, there is nothing to do now.

Occasionally there were rustles, but mostly the woodland creatures left me to myself. Grateful for this; even the small ones could be a danger. Saw the occasional chipmunk but that was it.

Finally the trail led into a meadow, and I found a big rock to rest on. Happy to see the sun again. I reckoned it was about 10 AM or so by the light. I had been hiking since dawn, so going awhile. Pulled out my water bottle and some trail mix. Sat, rested my aching legs, looked up at the sun.

And the eagle was there. Flying above. He circled me, far far above. I thought he might land, but he didn’t. Obviously he was watching. Checked in, good she made it to the meadow. And soared off.

He was a fine fine sight, a glorious and amazing bird. Gave me hope to get to the top, that there was a point to this journey.

I had been thinking about Roy in the forest, Roy under the trackless waves, Roy and the disaster he left behind in my life. I really didn’t care anymore, just like devastated boyfriend of my youth. If I die, I die. Maybe death will actually claim me this time. I would go to Heaven.

There honestly didn’t seem to be much point to anything. I had essentially lived a solitary life. Sure there were people who apparently cared. Made a huge splash, will go down in history yay. I didn’t really care about that and don’t.

I will disappear on the mountain. Eventually someone will notice. Who knows what all will do. I don’t care anymore. About anything at all.

An Interlude

For some reason that meadow was amazing. Spring, the rains had obviously come. I have literally never seen anything carpeted with flowers like that. What a sight to behold.

I sat on the rock, ate my trail mix, drank my water, inhaled the heavenly scent. Noticed there was a stream further down the slope, icy cold and clear. Listened to it babble.

No matter what happened, I was gonna remember that moment. Sitting on the rock, the meadow with the riot of wildflowers, unusually so, the clear mountain stream going down the slope, crashing to the rocks below.

The sun was getting high. Break time over. I slathered on some sunscreen, as I was going higher. I needed to keep going if I wanted to make summit before dark.

If I ever made summit at all.

Higher And Higher

Mountains have personalities of their own. The reason you bring a poncho is lower elevations might be clear and sunny, but there is a good chance you may encounter a storm higher up.

I did encounter a storm. Higher up, the trail was rockier. The trees thinned out and it was mostly rocks. The clouds descended. The wind whipped up. My sunny day quickly turned into a grey and cloudy one like THAT.

That happens a lot on mountains, and you just come prepared for it. I stopped, grabbed my poncho, unfolded it from the tiny packed square it was into usability. Grabbed my hoodie and pulled it over my head. Shrugged myself into the now unfolded poncho. It was getting colder the higher I went up.

I was praying the storm would pass quickly, whatever it was. That I wouldn’t get massively rained out. That I would find shelter if I did. Rocks are slippery and treacherous, more so wet. Less cover higher up as the trees thin out. With any luck I would find a cave.

The Cave

Well it wasn’t really a cave. Those can be little tiny holes that open up for miles. I needed more a cleft in the rock, a shelter. Praying as I followed the trail.

I knew I would literally never make it back down. There was nowhere to go but up. I persevered, putting one now tired foot in front of the other.

As the storm unleashed a torrent of rain and the wind whipped up, I saw what looked like an opening in the higher, rougher, and forbidding rock. It wasn’t much, practically just a lean to. But it was shelter. I struggled towards it. Collapsed inside the cleft, breathed hard.

Air is thinner the higher you go; breathing gets harder too. I drank more water. It was about lunch time. I pulled out the lunch I brought, munched my sandwich, watched it rain. Thought about the fact the trail ahead would now be slippery too. Calculated my chances. Determined they were not good.

The Hope Of Golden Wings

I thought about the eagle. I was so tired. Really not thinking well by then. Maybe the eagle was a dream. A vision. Maybe he wasn’t waiting at the top.

Maybe nothing would be at the top but rocks, broken dreams, and certain death. I didn’t know. It was too late to turn back.

Roy was somewhere at the bottom of the sea. There was nothing left. The eagle at the top, or I just died up there.

I no longer cared in some ways which it was. I hoped dear God please let the eagle be there. But if he wasn’t, if the eagle was some vision, then I would go up, and there I would die. I was prepared just in case.

The Storm Passed

After awhile the sun came back out. Again it was eerily quiet. No birds. Why are there no birds on this freaking solitary mountain? Where are the animals? It seemed like all that existed was me and the mountain. All that had ever existed, would ever exist.

I waited a bit for things to dry, took off the poncho, folded it away, and reshouldered my backpack. Time to continue.

The Untouched Mountain

There is nothing like the smell of fresh rain. Especially on this untouched mountain. Literally untouched. Most mountains, lots of hiker trash. It is a problem. People even graffiti stuff now. This was untouched, no one there. Looked like no one had ever come this way, actually. Was starting to wonder, who created the trail, who maintained it.

I had gotten the map a very strange way. A stranger handed it to me. This is the way, walk ye in it. He was compelling somehow. Different. He blended back into the crowd, a memory. And I was left holding a map.

The map had survived the rain, but there really wasn’t much to it. Just follow the trail, mostly. That’s how trails are. This one had no forks. Why do I even freaking need a map.

But the stranger gave me one. I peered at it with tired eyes. I appeared to be on course from what little I could determine. OK, heading on up.

The Clouds

You can tell when a mountain is very very high as ultimately you walk INTO the clouds. I had no idea how high this one was. Just knew the eagle was at the top. So far had run into a few rough bridges, but they were solid. Difficult to cross but safe.

I ran into a whiteout on the way up. Just the trail. And fog. Couldn’t see anything but my feet and a few feet ahead on the trail. It was now completely silent.

I remembered Roy said the bottom of the sea was silent when he worked down there, and walked on.

A long time ago, in college, two friends and I walked out on a frozen lake. We were in a cloud bank like I was in now. The lake was frozen over and snowed on. All we could see was each other and our footsteps leading back to shore.

I never ever forgot that.

I Broke Through

Finally came above the clouds. Yeah. That’s something flatlanders don’t understand about mountains. Eventually you go so high you’re above the clouds. You look down on the rolling clouds BELOW you and cannot see the ground. You are obviously really really high up by then. Above timberline.

Nothing but rocks up here and a little lichen. I hoped to see a marmot but it didn’t seem like that would happen.

I was almost to my destination. I guesstimated it was late afternoon/early evening. I would likely make summit before sunset.

Good, what then?

I looked for the eagle, but he was nowhere in sight. Faith running thin like the air. I took big gulps of the progressively thinner air. Unpacked my coat and put it on, as it was now pretty cold.

Last Rest Break Before Summit

So I sat, for the last time. Drank the last of my water. Ate the last of my food. Again, on a huge rock, and looked down at the clouds. They obscured the ground and the life I had forever left behind. Somewhere down there was my truck. Hoped someone at least used it.

When I left Denver, the Lord was kind and covered Denver in clouds. So I didn’t cry as I left home forever. He covered it so I didn’t watch it go and cry.

The Standing Stones

There was something odd about the large rocky area I was taking my last rest in. The rocks were kind of jutting and tall. It actually looked like there was blood on them. And this freaked me out.

I was high high high on a mountain it was very clear NO ONE ever climbed. Given a map by a compelling stranger who then just melted into the crowd. I had packed the map by this time; it was useless mostly. Got me safely to the trailhead, but the trail took me the rest of the way. Where?

I had not had to scale cliffs and was beyond grateful. The trail was rocky and hard, but solid. Challenging but not impossible. The bridges had been solid if scary. I hadn’t needed to use my ropes at all.

The rain had dried quickly for some reason; the trail was basically dry. There hadn’t been massive amounts of rain washing out the trail. A lot of grace had gotten me that far.

So why was there very obviously BLOOD on these weird tall jutting stones? What strange movie had I walked into?

The Hall Of Stones

The trail clearly led between two lines of stones, and I wondered if I had walked into a movie. All the stones marked with blood. Clear, obvious blood. Who was the stranger?

For the first time, I forgot about my dreams and the eagle and really thought hard about retreat. Maybe I could somehow make it back down. Maybe someone wouldn’t have stolen my truck. I had options. There were always options.

I turned behind me. Saw to my dismay the trail behind me was lost in impenetrable fog. Like really lost, like if I went that way I could get confused and end up literally anywhere on the mountain. Where I would obviously then die.

There was just one way forward, and it was through the bloody stones.

I Proceed

As I walked between the stones, I noticed the occasional bright, huge feather. Even weirder. They weren’t golden but blazingly white. They glowed of themselves.

I had still not seen the eagle, wondered where he was. Would I ever see him again. What was beyond the hall of stones?

As I walked, the scenery changed. Flashes back to a very different life.

Spiritual And Physical Are The Same

I walked through the standing bloody stones, all marked with blood. More and more strange white huge glowing feathers.

And flashed to another life. I was waiting at a bus stop. I had gotten on the bus and my bus pass failed. How could I get to the summit?

The bus driver, with a bus full of high schoolers, for some reason opened the door and said, “It’s someone’s birthday. Hop on.” And I did.

I walked through the stones, and they were no longer silent. Power, thrumming, a low hum that I could feel in my very bones. More and more feathers.

In the other life, I was on a bus hurtling to my destination and no way to get home. Only way to go is forward. I started asking for change. Was denied. What do I do.

Then a kind stranger gives me what I need. He is a Christian. And we stand and talk about Jesus, right there on the bus. How he was retired from a big job, and now helps disabled children. Adopted one, a very sick child, and how that kid just graduated from college.

In that life, the bus hurtles to its destination. The stranger and I talk about how his gift is getting me to my date with God, to go to a church and give my testimony about Roy. Roy under the waves who isn’t, but dead all the same.

The bus driver listens. Everyone listens. When I get off, the bus driver has a most peculiar look on his face.

Spiritual And Physical Converge

I move forward through the stones. Come to a stop before a very large one. It has a sign on it, a sign I would recognize anywhere. I know now where I am, what the blood is, and Who gave me the map to this very strange untouched mountain.

IT IS A CROSS.

Carved into the stone. It is clearly the only way forward, the only way to ever get to the summit. Time has stopped. Nothing moving at all.

In the other life, I get to a place where I can rest and eat. Stop for a bit, get them to feed me. Close to my destination. And I met an interesting guy, a musician, along the way. I sang songs to Jesus on the bus. I no longer cared what people thought.

The receptionist hears my epic tale and her eyes are huge, and jaw practically dropped open. I sat and ate my real food, and drank my real water, as Jesus provides all.

I knock on the stone. I have read Tolkien; I know what comes next.

The last light of day hits the stone, and a bit flakes away to reveal a keyhole.

And I open it with the key in the map the stranger gave me. The key of FAITH.

The stone parts, splits open down the middle. No obstacles now. Going straight to the top.

The Summit

In another life, I walk to a church. A very particular church. Where the Lord has sent me to talk about Roy under the waves. Sustained by the food I received, I make my way to this church. Very very early. As everything is locked, I sit on the front steps with my food the Lord gave me, and decide I will preach to the passersby.

A truck driven by a man pulls up. He claims he is turning around. Then asks if I need a ride.

I know what he is up to. But I smile and wave, tell him I am here early for services. Talk to him about Jesus. And for some reason, he smiles back, wishes me a good day, and drives away.

In this life, I wave at the cars going by, eat my food, curl up and read my Bible in public. I fear nothing at all anymore.

Another truck pulls up nearby, and I see that guy watching me. I ask Jesus to handle it. After awhile, I look over. He has gone into wherever he was going. The truck is empty. Jesus kept me safe.

Back On The Mountain

This is literally the gentlest summit I have ever made. It is an easy walk to the obvious top. Nothing up here but bare rocks. I didn’t expect anything different.

I take off my backpack for the last time. I made it to the top of this weird mountain. I can’t get back down, ever. I don’t know why I came in some ways. Something drove me here.

The sun is going down. The clouds have cleared, and I am treated to the most epic view ever on top of the mountain. A sunset so glorious I have never seen its like. And a clear view to the bottom. That is every mountaineer’s dream. It doesn’t happen often.

I bet I could see three states away. If the mountain was in America. Which it isn’t.

Or any other country in the world, actually.

Below me rolls an unfamiliar landscape. Untouched like the mountain. Virgin plains and wilderness. Whatever this place is, it is very very ancient. And I know I took some forgotten, ancient path to get here.

Bet the trail hasn’t seen anybody but me in centuries.

I left my food and water behind. What will I eat up here.

Up at the very very top, there is a table.

The Church

I have made it to the church. And seen the eagle. With his great, glorious amazing golden wings, his strong talons. He was there and not a dream.

But I am broken from the journey. And I collapse before the Lord in praise and worship. I am broken and know I will never get off the mountain. That my journey ends here and I do not know where here is.

I kneel before Him and pour out my heart, while the worship music rises like thunder around me. Like the thrumming of the bloody stones. The power that stirs the marrow in my bones.

The Table And Its Contents

On the table is the only food I will ever need again. I see bread. And wine.

They glow; they’re alive. They’re a Person. I know this Person. I recognize Him now. He gave me the map, with the key.

He helped me buy the truck. The mountaineering gear and backpack. And while I silently made my way up the trail, I noticed that my footsteps were doubled. Not beside mine. I was walking in His footsteps the whole time.

He brought me to this place. His Name is Jesus Christ. King of kings, Lord of lords, the First and the Last, the Alpha and the Omega, the Judge of the Living and the Dead. He who came in the flesh. I died for your sins and rose again. He is constantly telling me this.

He is sitting at the table, with a huge smile. His hands outstretched. And the eagle is not an eagle, but a man. And I recognize the man as well.

Jesus, Where Do I Go Now?

In the church I am kneeling. Sitting. Crying out to Jesus. I summitted the mountain. It took absolutely everything to get here. I can never get back down. Where now?

Roy had a plane. He could fly me off the mountain maybe. But Roy and his plane are gone. He died in a plane crash, because he didn’t trust the pilot. He took over at the end, didn’t trust the controls. And the plane crashed and was lost at sea.

Jesus said, maybe you are never supposed to leave this mountain, how about that? Maybe I brought you home, and you are supposed to live here.

Oh My Soul

And in the other life, later, I am sitting in familiar beloved front dirt. Looking at stars in a familiar sky. I brought Roy down here once; he said the area was a pit. And that I obviously loved every bit of it. He didn’t understand; he was used to fancy hotels and nice restaurants.

Once upon a time, I sat on a very poor bed in a very poor home, alone with just Jesus and I. And I asked Jesus to plant me in that very poor home and that very poor church, and make my roots go down, and never uproot me. I made a vow never to leave.

Jesus did that. Never forgot my vow although I did.

Looking at beloved stars, remembering the time I looked at them with Jesus. And Jesus is saying, you can come home to visit sometimes maybe. But you can’t ever live here.

You leave Mom’s house. You can visit her but you need to live on your own.

The Call

I call you into your calling. Amen. Said more than one man. Maybe one was an eagle. With great, glorious, golden feathers and magnificent.

Jesus gave me this church. He sent you to preach to the world, Amy. And as He gave this ministry to you, you must do it.

You must accept all He made you and the ministry He gave you, and go do it. I told the eagle yes. He stood before me, golden eyes, fierce and proud and strong. Burnished feathers, like copper, like flame. He stood before me like a light. His voice had the undertone of thunder.

His magnificent talons held a scroll. I asked to see it. The scroll’s name was, The Word. The eagle was given permission to break open the scroll. Before my eyes, he ate it. It was sweet to the taste, and sweet in his belly.

I watched as The Word filled him with power and strength. His beautiful wings unfurled to their fullest length.

And he began to preach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So this blog started out about death. I thought I was going to die.

It has come full circle. The person I loved most in the world died performing his job duties Easter Sunday.

I was horrified and shocked obviously. How can the day of Resurrection turn into pain, sorrow, and death? Jesus is Risen! Why did my beloved die on Easter???

In the days that have followed, have thought a LOT about death and resurrection. Ran across a piece in my email this morning really got me going.

The author is into Eastern mysticism, which is barking up the wrong tree. It is all occult. But you can learn stuff from everyone, so I read what he wrote with interest.

He said death and resurrection in many ways are flip sides of the same coin. Maybe he didn’t say that and I did.

He basically said there is no rising without first dying. In Christianity. In life. Period.

You Are A Plant

I was doing some street preaching the other night and I got going about plants. Basically how they sit there, grow, do nothing at all. They have to be acted upon by outside forces to survive. A tree cannot run to the store.

This sounds absurd until you think, what if I was stuck in one place all my life and couldn’t run to the store?

The example I used is, you are a really raggedy sick plant on the clearance aisle in a large chain store. The clerk is about to toss you the next day into the trash where you will die. As a plant, you can’t affect your fate in any way.

Then Jesus sees you. He takes pity on you, picks you up. Takes you to the front counter, pays for you with His unlimited credit card of Jesus’ Precious Blood. You’re His and He takes you home.

Rah rah rah, you’re saved! You are so happy. Off that shelf and you have a much nicer home now.

But you were sick and nearly dead, and Jesus isn’t going to leave you that way.

You need to be repotted into better soil. Given fertilizer. Watered. Make sure you get just the right amount of sunlight.

There is controversy over whether plants feel pain.

That video makes me laugh. My philosophy is of course plants dislike being eaten, so have developed defenses as they are alive. Animals also don’t like being eaten but they do that regularly.

One time I was in a psych ward. It was a psych ward that allowed TV. One of the staff thought Animal Planet was a safe channel. So I watched Animal Planet.

I watched Meerkat Manor. Cute fuzzy animals. Watched them fight and kill each other, eat their young. Wow. I am like, seriously no one has vetted this channel. This is more drama than most soap operas.

I watched River Hunters. Man vs….fish. Yeah. Really huge giant scary fish monsters and the men that dig taking them down.

I honestly think pacifists think animals sit around, drink coffee and sing Kumbayah. Nope they are out killing each other and tearing each other apart quite violently.

So then you must accept that, on some level, everything experiences pain and death.

Salvation Isn’t For Sissies

“But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars—they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death.” ~ Revelation 21:8 NIV.

There is a crowd of people who call themselves Christians who are rather self-righteous. They’ll read this, think things like, yeahhhh evil murderers and gay people (everyone knows gay people cause hurricanes), Pagans and magic users and you will all die die die hahahaha…what’s that??

What was that word at the start? The very beginning of the verse?

COWARDLY.

Everyone skips over this and hurls spitwads and crumpled paper balls at gay people and stuff. Liars sort of goes by the wayside also.

So while you are aiming your big toy water gun at your neighbor’s gay pride flag, maybe you had better ask if you are brave. Because Jesus put that in the list. FIRST in the list.

Are You Brave?

It was a small outreach, and the people listening to me at that time were all men. I didn’t want to scandalize them by being too explicit.

But this is my blog; I can be explicit if I want.

Do you have the courage to follow Jesus Christ? Do you have the brass balls? The actual gonads? What are you made of?

Do you DARE? Chicken! Can you do it? Prove it!

I am an XX chromosome woman with female equipment, but I nonetheless possess massive balls of Damascus steel. Awarded by Jesus Christ. For bravery.

The ex’s family also once awarded me an honorary Y chromosome for doing things like car maintenance and using power tools to build things.

Am I more man than you? A woman?

Will you follow Jesus Christ or not?

You Will Die In The Process

You see, little sick dying plant, Jesus has to do stuff to make you healthy. Repot you. Fertilizer which can be harsh. Water you. Prune you.

You will lose limbs. You will experience distress as you move into another pot. You will be completely uprooted in the process.

You will be exposed to harsh chemicals (fertilizer) which will feed you. Drenched in water. Wilt in the heat sometimes.

He has to cut off all the dead stuff so only the healthy stuff remains. Or you will die and He will have to throw you out.

Plants can feel to some extent. You are a thinking, feeling human. So when Jesus does all this, it HURTS.

Furthermore, plant has no idea what is happening either. It was in this pot. Now it is in a new one after being uprooted and transported. It is helpless to affect its fate. It just has to trust the gardener knows what He is doing.

So How’s That Working For You?

I am on LinkedIn. People post a lot about productivity and it is very serious. This is BUSINESS. REALITY.

What I honestly see is a lot of people caught up in careers. They were taught to climb. They got really really good at climbing.

They got good at work and juggling work and school and kids. They are excellent worker bees. They excel. They wear the right stuff and eat the right stuff. They go to the best meditation coaches.

Why?

There is a story where some businessmen get a happy fisherman to leave his boat and join the “real world”. Guy does. He works hard, stresses out, makes a ton of money, retires. And goes back to his boat, and catches fish again.

What was the point of all that, honestly?

The hamsters are having fun. Are you having fun?

The point is you can be really popular with your Jamba instructor, and this may not actually be improving your life. You made a perfect widget. Good job! Why did you make the widget?

I see a lot of people who climbed to the top, discover there is nothing up there but cold fresh air, and saying, so why did I leave my nice fishing boat?

Let Me Tell You About Stagnant Water

If you are on the hamster wheel, the rat race, climbing the ladder and have forgotten why you are even on the freaking ladder, what you are is stagnant water.

Basically, stagnant water is water that has stopped flowing. It is still and does nothing.

You may think that is good if you are into yoga. If you are water that is very very bad. Stagnant water causes things like malaria and dengue. It is dangerous to drink and often has human and animal waste in it. YUCK!!

Water needs to flow. Water needs to move to be healthy water. The Bible even talks about this.

“Will a man leave the snow water of Lebanon, which comes from the rock of the field? Will the cold flowing waters be forsaken for strange waters? ~ Jeremiah 18:14 NKJV.

What this Bible verse is discussing is mountain streams. Lebanon in the Scriptures is basically a mountain range kinda like the state of Colorado, except very very small.

Cold flowing mountain water is great stuff. Ever had a Coors?

Science says rivers and streams are essential for a healthy planet. We need healthy rivers and streams. What is one of the things that make a river “sick”? Damming it up. Stopping the flow.

Stop Meandering Please. What Is The Point?

The point is, above and beyond the Bible, NATURE says you must change and flow. You must move, change, flow or DIE. Nature is very very unforgiving. If a lion catches an antelope, the antelope has a very unfixable bad day.

Seeds die! And become plants! Caterpillars die! And become butterflies!

Are you willing? Can you survive the transformation?

The cross is to make you die. It is pointless without then rising to new life afterwards.

Jesus did it this way as all of creation (which He made) works like this. And I am drawing this from SCIENCE.

So…Are You Brave?

You ready to be utterly transformed? Have you got the BIG BRASS BALLS???