Can You Breath Again?

What a historic day we are living through. I hope everyone listened to President Trump's Inaugural Address--preferably without the biased, liberal commentary of the deep state left. Other than on a few occasions like this, I am glad I have nothing but rabbit ears for television viewing. Main stream media provides little wholesome viewing and their deranged commentaries on the news do nothing but cause disinformation and globalists ideals to spread to the unsuspecting and uninformed. 

If I ever have a few moments when I want to let my mind go blank and just veg, I put in a DVD of an inspirational movie or an old tv series that isn't laced with media propaganda. However, I have discovered that some of the television series I thought were nothing but the creative genius of writers were really contrived glimpses into the future the globalist elites and deep state had in mind for us--one filled with terrorist activities, manmade disasters that displace our citizens with no relief or recourse, civil unrest, human and drug trafficking, unrelenting war and crime-ridden cities--to name just a few.

It made my heart hurt during my hour or so of viewing as I was forced to listen to the platitudes and lies the anchors perpetrated about the greatness and humility of the democrats and known rhinos who were in attendance. Those dialogues became even more intolerable because not a single patriot was spared at least one disparaging remark. Even our lovely, kind and gracious First Lady, Melania, was censured as being a former model who was overly concerned about her appearance. 

But in a way, I am glad I watched it on a very politically biased outlet because it made perfectly clear the far-reaching extent of hypocrisy in the outgoing administration, and put into perspective just how greatly our beautiful country has suffered under their leadership. 

I hope never to forget the look on President Trump's face in those brief moments before making his inaugural address to our nation. He appeared calm and composed on the surface, but his eyes let me know just how human he is and how heavy his burdens weigh. I prayed for his continued strength, safety and guidance, along with that of his family who have already endured so much opposition and hatred. These stalwart, loyal and brave individuals could have walked away from the continuing fight for our freedoms, but they close to stand by their husband, father and grandfather not knowing what other sacrifices they might be called on to make as a family.

President Trump has lived through and risen above many horrific battles, including several assassination attempts, but the precipice he was standing on at that moment could bring the ultimate battles of his life. The stage had been set and the majority of people stood with him, but the dark and sinister forces he had been dealing with for the past nine years had barely begun their fight. When Kamala Harris said just a few days ago--with that ever-present and annoying cackle--that she would not disappear into the night she was including her unprincipled comrades who had already unleashed almost intolerable pain and chaos and stood ready and prepared to do more. 

But for President Trump, whom providence had protected and brought to this moment, there would be no turning back after his speech was delivered. While his remarks would bring rounds of applause and unprecedented joy to those who believed as he did, they would also unleash unimaginable fury from the far-left activists as he reemphasized his promises to return our country to God, to its amazing constitution and to the lawful citizens whose beautiful home it is and who enabled such a glorious victory.

I felt immense pride and gratitude as he rose to his feet and made those few steps to the lectern. He was prepared, powerful and committed. Nearly every promise reiterated brought a standing ovation from the crowd, but all the former presidents and their wives--including Harris and her husband--sat as if unable to move. The expressions on their faces ranged from rage and fear to a pretense of apathy. They managed to pull it together when he mentioned the hostages being released, but their contempt was ever present. 

It was impossible not to notice two things during the short ceremony that may have been more than a simple oversight or a mechanical failure with the sound system. The facial reactions from those individuals mentioned in the above paragraph was very telling, and the outcome far different from what they expected. First, time was not given for President Trump's family to join him before he placed his hand on two Bibles and Justice Roberts began to swear him into office. The smaller Bible had been given to him by his mother and the larger one president Lincoln had used at his inauguration. 

Could there be some underlying meaning with that? Considering the sharp division in our country after the last four years of brainwashing and manipulation it seems entirely possible. As does his inauguration landing on Martin Luther King Day--also a time for remembering promised deliverance from oppression. 

Second was the loss of sound when Carrie Underwood stood up to sing America the Beautiful. The faces behind her were not sympathetic, but she handled it with complete grace. Her a cappella rendition was so moving most everyone joined in to sing with her--even some of those who had been so completely stoic before. The love for our country and the joy felt to be on the verge of reclaiming its foundational principles must have been electric. Nonetheless, I cannot help but wonder why the soundboard was still working for all the microphones on stage and only the channel controlling her background music was affected. Guess the conspiracy theorist in me is still alive and well.

I am so grateful my fellow patriots and I have made it this far. The hope for a beautiful future with our constitutional rights being upheld once again and all the woke nonsense and support for criminals being abolished is strong. But I fear the war we are waging against so many unseen forces of evil is far from being over. That's why we can never become complacent and think we've already done our part. 

President Trump and all those unnamed heroes fighting for our freedoms need our support and strength more than ever. We can now speak the truth and stand up for what we believe without fear of complete retribution by unknown forces that have been allowed to silence us during these past few years. Not that it won't take time to undo all the damage that has spread into every sector of our lives, but the plan is being implemented as of today. If we stand strong and immovable we will prevail and our posterity will be true recipients of the American dream that has been undermined and, in far too many instances, destroyed.

I do feel like I can breath again--at least for the moment. But evil men and women, whose true master is Satan, never sleep and have unlimited resources. However, what they don't seem to understand is that God is truly in charge. He is our maker, offering strength, courage and hope because righteousness will eventually prevail. And if we are on His side we really have nothing to fear. So I'll say my prayers and try to remain as prepared and positive as possible for whatever may come my way because I am a believer in God, in truth and in the goodness of the vast majority of my fellow travelers during this mortal journey.

 

A Quarter of a New Century Gone

It's mid-morning on January 1, 2025 and the clouds hang heavy outside my living room windows. The white branches of the Quaking Apsen trees stand still against  a milky whiteness that appears thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Gone is the sunshine from yesterday making it a very dreary day indeed. But there is a certain solace in a world without outside movement after the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season. My body and heart are ready for some time spent in self-reflection and deciding what I want this new year to be.

My thoughts about the importance of the minutes and hours it would bring changed very rapidly last night after my son picked up the two family dogs I had been watching for a week while they spent time with his biological family. Needless to say, the week was more bitter than sweet. While the enthusiasm of the puppies is fun to watch, my allergies kicked in with more force than usual almost immediately--most likely intensified because it rained or snowed the entire time and their little feet brought in plant mold and mud from the yard in addition to the allergens their bodies automatically produced. I got extra shots to help combat what having them around did to my own system but by Sunday night my eyes were horribly red, swollen and itching. I spent the last two days of their stay in the basement tying off queen-size quilts since they much preferred the main part of the house and only came down occasionally to see if I was still there.

After the baby quilt humanitarian project of October and November, I had decided to  make large quilts for each member of my immediate family for Christmas next year. While that was a noble and reachable goal, my OCD behavior told me I might as well use up all the fabric I had left in one of my storage closets. I knew it would make my kids happy because they seemed to enjoy complaining about having to get rid of all my stuff when I was gone. I had finished tying nine big quilt tops--enough to fulfill my goal with two left over--by the time the dogs left and was excited to get my house de-dogged so I could sew together the fabric for three more. That would take care of all the batting I had and all but a few folds of fabric. 

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that every piece of fabric I had matched so carefully with something else was only 36 inches wide instead of the 44-45 I had been using and needed for the size of the quilts I was making. Normally, when confronted with such a disaster that stopped my plans cold, I would have fallen into an immediate panic and begun planning a next-day trip to the fabric store. But as I stood at my dining room table where my sewing machine sat ready for use, a sudden burst of relief washed over me. I had the amount of quilts I needed for next Christmas and enough was enough!!! I may have wanted but certainly didn't NEED any more. So I returned everything I had planned on using to the basement closet and took the long quilting frames to the garage where the were returned to a top shelf for storage until another overwhelming mood hit me.

I thought I would regret my decision this morning, but I had a dream last night that didn't make much logical sense because it bounced around so much, but the overall meaning was more than clear. My time for busy behaviors that kept me from dwelling on recent hurts, even more than those of the past, needed to stop. Change was coming and I wouldn't be prepared to deal with any of it unless I was in a place where hearing the promptings of the Spirit of God was possible. 

While we have a new president-elect whose plans to Make America Great Again fill me with a hope that brings tears to my eyes, I also know that we are in the final hours before our Savior's return and that means the chaos, fear and unimaginable acts of cruelty and horror are not going to end. That is certainly made clear enough as we see the potential for war looming in many parts of the world, the horrific crime in so many areas of our country dramatically escalating, and those who oppose the patriot movement to restore our constitutional republic ready and willing to commit any act of treason or inhumanity to keep their depraved actions hidden and their goal of enslaving the world from completely falling apart.

That's why my focus this year has changed from learning everything I can about how we got to where we are as a human society that seems intent on destroying itself to defining who I am as an individual and what I can do in my own circle of influence to help those I meet feel some of the hope and peace I do. God is in charge, and come what may, I want to be His hands in helping to move His work forward. What a glorious day it will be for the faithful when the Savior returns, but we have to get through all the revelations about the destructive and dreadful last days first. I'm ready to put on my running shoes, take my vitamins and push forward with more energy and purpose than I ever have before.

But . . .  That's always the word that gets me in trouble, as it may well do for many of you. I can find excuses every day to remain complacent and leave the foot work to others. I love being in my home with the doors and windows locked to keep the outside world away, but that is neither possible nor profitable for an extended period of time. While my need to find my center again is great, I can't just abandon duties and responsibilities to take an extended ME vacation. But I can focus on creating a better balance between personal needs, wants and desires, rendering service and compassion to others and finding out what God really needs for me to do before my earthly journey is over.

That seems like a daunting task and one I have contemplated several times in the past before something seemingly more pressing has pulled me away. Take, for example, the need to write a personal life history that may give clarity to my existence to whatever posterity I might have. I have been working at, or around it, for years but my time is running out. That quarter of a century I mentioned in the title is kinda bugging me since I have already lived three-quarters of one and don't seem to have much to show for it except an aging body, lots more wrinkles and saggy skin than I would like, and the lack of energy to do much more than what is required at the time. It's also been hard to accomplish much with a project like that  since I have near total memory loss when it comes to my life's experiences and what I do remember has been both traumatic and painful. It's also not my place to cast blame on anyone or bring to light faults, shortcomings or downright abuse administered by others since I have plenty to account for myself. Besides, all of us will eventually receive just rewards for the kind of lives we've lived and the thoughts we've had while on earth, and having someone who is far wiser do all the judging is okay with me. 

However, I do have a responsibility to leave something to those who come after me. Will anyone really care what I ate for breakfast or how much things cost? Highly doubtful, except for perhaps a passing interest, since they will be consumed with their own challenges and worries. And I'm certainly not able to predict what their futures may hold, but I can write about my own dark moments of pain, disappointment and loss of things I desired most and the growth and personal understanding they have fostered. I can talk about what make me happy, gives me hope and broadens my spiritual perception. But mostly I can bear witness that God lives and loves us, and that our Savior, Jesus Christ, died that we might live again and even gain a state of exaltation if we're willing to pay the price of repentance for sins committed. That includes truly striving to keep all the commandments given for therein is true inner peace, safety and joy regardless of what might be going on around us.

I'm not sure how long my resolve will last. I tend to drift easily away from things that seem overwhelming or uninteresting like eating better, daily exercise and the like, but something feels different today. Maybe it's the landmark of having seventy-five years of living on this planet behind me and knowing that each year I am given now is a true gift. There just isn't time to worry about all the things that have mattered most in the past. I will never be young again in this part of my journey and most people will still dismiss me as having having no value because I'm old. But I'm still young, vital, hopeful, energetic and even playful on the inside where it really matters and I'm not going to let others tell me I can't dance to my favorite music or whirl around in the rain or eat chocolate every day because it tastes better than lettuce. 

That beautiful, God-given spirit I came to earth with still resides inside of me and I need to acknowledge and honor its presence since it will remain with me throughout all the eternities that lay ahead. How grateful I am for a new year that can be filled with peace, joy and understanding in a world filled with strife and chaos if we choose to focus our attention on the things that matter most--our families, our life purpose and our relationship with our Heavenly Father and our Savior.

The sky is the same weirdly heavy white it was when I started this post. Not even a branch in the trees has moved. That kind of stillness has a certain forbidding about it since there is no way of knowing what tomorrow might bring. But it won't really matter as long as I'm doing what I feel is right. I'll be up early and on the road to a place where I can offer the kind of service to others that they cannot do for themselves. May 2025 be the best year ever for all of you. It truly is a glorious time to live.