conversations and clues

the entire region was thick with smoke as fires burned out of control. she was driving back from a quick overnight trip. they agreed to meet for late lunch when she returned. the trip was uneventful until she was twenty minutes from home.

traffic slowed, then stopped. there was a wreck on the highway. someone had died. she was triggered. hands shaking, she used the voice recorder to message him a heads up about the delay and the triggering. he responded saying he would pick her up at the house.

as she neared home, she called her friend to pray with her. images of the wrecked vehicles wanted to stick in her mind like super glue, only causing more angst. she fought to keep her peace. it wasn’t the first time she was triggered by a wreck and a death. she let the thoughts go by, asking jesus to heal her and wash away those images. breathe, just breathe. keep breathing. inhale, exhale. let it out.

he pulled up to the house minutes after she arrived. she jumped into his pickup and they drove downtown to their favorite hangout in town, choosing to sit outside in smoky haze generate by fires hundreds of miles away.  they ordered late lunch, happy to have their regular server welcome them.

he pulled out his phone to show her several new family photos sent from his mom. they were photos of his own dad and his daughter together, another of both his parents with his daughter. “look at this!” he said. “purpose. they have purpose! she has given them purpose to live! i guarantee he would not be alive now without her living with them, giving them purpose.”

tears filled her eyes as she listened to him. he had missed all of his daughter’s growing up years, the birthdays, the special events, proms and homecomings. even as regret tried to strong-arm him into condemnation, he was beyond grateful his parents raised his only daughter. she was a beautiful, confident young woman. her grandparents had poured love and care into her. his fought through a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, battling to get free of years of guilt and shame.

tears in her eyes, she only affirmed him. “i’m so proud of you, so glad you can see this. this was the absolute best thing for her under the circumstances. they gave her a stability you could not. her life would have been destroyed if she’d been with you these years.” it was not an easy truth, but it was the truth, nonetheless. they both knew it.

when lunch was finished they walked to the marina, resting on ‘their’ bench for a minute before walking down the sidewalk. he shared how there were issues with a couple who were friends of his. the wife was having some issues with him being around her husband. he was angry about it, feeling rejected.

she was silent, knowing well the why the wife felt this way. conversation continued as they walked along the river and sat down at a picnic table. the smoke from the fires was thick now. it was getting harder to breathe. wisdom showed up to warn them, but they did not hear her voice.

his work was ongoing drama, too. a new female mechanic was not performing up to his work standards. he was angry at her sloppiness, wanting her to steer clear of his own workspace so he wouldn’t get hurt. he was afraid of getting hurt, afraid of getting sick again. afraid of so many things.

fear had entered his heart as a small boy when he had leukemia. the demon of fear and it’s sidekick infirmity still tormented his mind like a battering ram, keeping him from sleep most nights.

she gently tried to steer him out of the current thought pattern, but he wasn’t having it. suddenly, she’d become the enemy as he looked back at her with daggers in his eyes. she apologized for what she said. it was the quickest way to diffuse his anger and fear.

after a time, they walked back to the truck and he took her home. she mentioned her upcoming trip to him, and asked if he’d take her to the airport. he answered her query with his own. “do you want me to take you to the airport?” “yes, i’d like that very much.” “okay, done.” 

a few days later they had dinner at their favorite mexican restaurant in the city. it happened to be the same place where they often had lively conversation about matters of the heart and family. old memories came back to her as they found a table in the backyard.

shortly thereafter, his phone lit up with a photo of a woman on it. she was calling him. the ringer was silent, but it didn’t keep the photo from popping up. he nervously looked at it, then across the table at her, trying to find a way to explain what he hoped she had not seen.

Communication, Telephone, Phone, Espionage, Spying
photo credit: pixabay

he excused himself to the restroom, clearly busted and guilt-ridden for something she was not yet certain of. filing away the important and curious clue, she later presumed he’d left to call the woman for a brief moment. she saw it, knew she was correct. it was painful when the seer gift showed her more than her heart wanted to see.

they ordered dinner. he began to talk about how he joined a social organization called, ‘meet up.’ it allowed him to meet other people, get out and socialize, so he wouldn’t be ‘that creepy guy” any more. she’d never seen him in that light, but apparently he saw himself this way.

he offered that maybe she could join, too. there were a bunch of christian groups doing things. he pulled out his phone, showed her the app, opening it up so she could see. she might like it. she studied him again. what was this all about? was he inviting her deeper into his world? did he want her to join him in some other type of activities? more puzzle pieces, more filing.

people who go here aren’t looking to date other people

he was going to yoga class, too. hot yoga, designed to release tension, without any of the foo-foo religious stuff. this was purely for stretching and endurance. as they drove down lombard street, he showed her where the studio was.

then he made the oddest remark of the evening. “you know, people who go to this class aren’t looking for people to date. it’s almost 100 degrees in here, so most people don’t have a lot of clothes on.” what??? now, that was just plain odd. what was he talking about? another clue.

her trip was only a week away. he still on board to take her to the airport and pick her up when she returned. the following weekend, she drove north to her friend’s house. she texted him on saturday morning when she woke but never got a response. it stung. something was amiss, out of order. what was it?

her heart hurt as she went to sleep that night. peace was elusive. she would soon understand why. when dreams came, they were vivid, often strange. this one was no exception. it came to her early in the morning, when it was nearly time to get up for the day.

in the dream, there was a race with many people running in it. she was one of them. so was a woman she admired but did not know well. there was a man in the race, too. she knew him, too, but not very well, either.

she observed the man closely. while he wasn’t wearing a shirt, he was wearing running shorts, but something was wrong. he was missing the undergarment one would expect him to be wearing under the running shorts. as he was moving about, he experienced a wardrobe malfunction.

it was not the front of his anatomy suffering exposure, but the backside, the place where one releases excrement. in the dream, she saw his ***hole. it was unexpected and shocking.

at the same time she saw his ***hole, she heard the woman she knew calling her name loudly, warning her. as she transitioned out of the dream, it was her friend’s voice she heard calling her name…

tens minutes later, she had a cup of coffee in her hand as the dream replayed in her mind. oh, my. this would take a minute to process. and still no word from him. why? why was he ignoring her? why wasn’t he responding? it wasn’t like him at all.

the why was revealed in the dream. he was hiding something. he was being an ***hole and he was exposed. was this dream from father or from the liar? what was she to do with it? and what about those clues?

clearly, the inference of the dream could not be ignored. he’d been caught talking out of both sides of his mouth.

it was not funny or cute. it was painful and hard.

he was lying to her.

copyright © 2017 jane doe productions

securing things

memorial weekend. a girls’ weekend. had she ever been on one? no. it would be a weekend to remember.

two new friends were driving in from spokane, coming to her rescue as she worked through loss, grief and shock.

the loss was severe in its own right. she and her furry snowshoe siamese boy had become one, just like adam and eve had been one with creation in the garden. part of her had died with him in the emergency hospital that day. she had no idea how that piece of her heart would live again.

for weeks, the darkness just got worse as she processed through the sequence of events that led to buddy’s demise. wisdom spoke. not all things could be shared as she saw certain details with great clarity. those she’d loved and trusted had committed the heinous acts of betrayal, loosing dark, destructive acts of witchcraft against her in her own home and workplace.

she’d gone into the courts of heaven weeks previously, summoning the guilty parties as holy spirit pointed them out. the usual suspects were present along with some unexpected guests.

she shook her head in disbelief, noting they all belonged to the same witches coven. most of them were rejected by church people. the enemy wasted no time recruiting them, welcoming use of their gifts for his purposes.

jesus strode into the courtroom, addressing the group at large. “you all know why you’re here. let’s get down to business.”

he began the process of calling out the offenses each had committed against her, waiting for them to own their actions before moving on to the next person.

she watched as some hung their heads in guilt. others turned away from jesus in defiance. it was laughable when they turned on each other, pointing fingers and shouting, “he made me do it!”

she called one last defendant into court to join the other wayward children. he’d been clinging to and actively engaging in so-called white witchcraft, learned from his former wife seated at the table. while she was a practicing witch, he’d also done his share of damage. witchcraft is witchcraft. so is guilt by association.

he stood with his head bowed low as jesus spoke. “are you willing to repent, renouncing your allegiance and participation in all witchcraft and occult?” the man nodded his head, ashamed of what he’d given place to. he was unable to look up to see the love in jesus’ eyes’ for him. he couldn’t receive it yet.

the ever righteous judge ruled in her favor because of the blood, because of the cross. those that had placed a bubble of witchcraft around her were also judged not guilty. the cross stood before them all, a constant reminder of our perfection and innocence before father god before the foundation of the world.

when court was adjourned, she left with a spring in her step thinking the onslaught sent against her was over. it was not.

later, she’d see the one man who’d refused to repent. through him, the enemy kept on with intent to destroy her. his unhealed wounds resulted in extreme narcissism. he had a door flung wide open door for jezebel to walk through and she did, taking up residence and full control. while she lived through the last attack, her beloved kitty did not.

the grief was as relentless as the attacks. she’d done everything she knew to clear her apartment and workplace. friends prayed in agreement. demons still manifested in the wee hours of the morning, banging & tapping on the refrigerator. the one who would not repent astral projected into her apartment whenever he wanted. too tired to fight, she relied on her angels to keep her.

the atmosphere at work intensified, ramping up to yet another flare up with her boss. he was overcome with fear, unwilling to yield to papa’s recent invitation to be loved as a son, to walk with him in the garden.

his unhealed wounds allowed the enemy to use him against her. fear, greed, selfishness, pride. more usual suspects. so many of papa’s sons needed more prayer. her boss had no understanding why he did what he did so he blamed her. she asked for more prayers from her facebook family. they obliged.

the next morning, her angels checked in as she left for work. rafael stood towering above her, smiling confidently. “we have you surrounded,  madam.” she grinned, sensing their affection and dedication to her. she saw them in the spirit often. it gave her a sure confidence in father’s ability, desire and promise to protect her.

now she packed for this girls’ weekend. they were coming to her. she didn’t have to go looking for support. help was on the way. faithful friends are precious.

their accommodations were in the heart of the city, but the log cabin décor and atmosphere made them feel like they were deep in the woods. it was perfect. they were minutes from the waterfront, walking trails and great restaurants.

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photo credit: the heathman lodge
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photo credit: the heathman lodge

they got in late friday night and spent time talking about matters of the heart. saturday morning came too early. no one was in a hurry so they took their time getting ready.

as one of them was leaving the room, she noted the door latch didn’t catch when she pulled the door shut. it wouldn’t lock. they quickly realized their room had been unsecured all night long. it was unsettling.

housekeeping was making their rounds in the hall outside. they quickly contacted the building engineer and he hustled right up to their room.  she sat on the bed listening to the man work the door.

one, two, three times she heard him open and close the door. her ears perked up and she said, “wait! listen!” to her friend across the room. father god spoke: “i am securing your calling, i am securing your hearts and i am closing the doors to the things in your lives the enemy has been trying to keep open.”

door-1089638_960_720
photo credit: pixabay

he continued, “like a three-fold cord, you will not be easily broken,” referring to the three of them. the broken latch was fixed at 1:01 pm, indicating new beginnings and fresh starts.

wisdom spoke. “turn your wounds into wisdom.” those few words were filled with power. nothing had been wasted. it was being turned for good.

she saw angels sweeping out her apartment and her workplace. there was an immediate shift in so many things.

their personal lives were not the only ones to be impacted that day. holy spirit gave her instructions for an assignment. later that day, they drove to the waterfront with a small container of salt.

each of them took salt in the hands and it in the columbia river flowing below the platform. as they tossed the salt, she prophesied that the salt was now washing the false face of the new age off of vancouver and all of washington, off of portland and all of oregon. they blessed the river with abundance and supernatural cleansing.

grant-street-pier-columbia-river-vancouver-wa-things-to-do
photo credit: calstate.aaa.com

it was a holy moment.

they stood in silence watching the river, grateful, thankful and secure.

 

 

david and jonathan

neither one of them remembered exactly when they became facebook friends. was it four months, six months? it was only in recent weeks that regular communication began. they both caught it. something was happening.

initially, she wasn’t planning on attending the event. there were obstacles, some natural, some spiritual. the natural ones were easy to see, the spiritual not so much. she sensed dark spirits trying to keep her from going, from connecting. one friend lovingly prodded her until she agreed to go. she let go of the obstacles she could see and pressed through the ones she could not. father god would take care of it all.

it was time to go, to meet the tribe in person. and that new friend. there was something there, something important. when the day arrived, she drove north and met with customers she’d grown to love over the years. those appointments went well. now, it was time to meet the new friend and get with ‘family.’

they’d exchanged telephone numbers days earlier, anticipating meeting. the texting began, then the calls to figure out where to meet for coffee. after muddling through disconnects and bad reception, they agreed on a nearby starbucks location.

she got there first and ordered, nearly inhaling the frosty frappachino to counter the heat outside. as she waited at the large table, she observed a man to her left.

he was mumbling and reading stuff that was well, not right and not truth. the book cover said something about the legion of mary, whatever that was. it was legion, all right, that was for certain. interesting. an enemy plant here? what was he thinking? they would pray for him. of course they would.

the liar was shaking in his boots about this relationship. that was obvious. no matter. she prayed in tongues and watched the guy, smiling at him when he would happen to steal a glance her way.

then, the moment arrived. the new friend walked in the door and crossed the room. they embraced like old friends only needing to get reacquainted. after having the baristas craft a cool beverage for her, they both sat down on high stools at the table. the conversation began flowing like water. holy spirit joined them and joy erupted all over the place.

three hours and thousands of words later, they parted company, albeit unwillingly. she had to get to the meeting. what a thrill it was to drive the last few miles and anticipate the joy to come.

after parking, she first met and hugged the precious friend who’d never let up getting her there. then there was everyone else. she was overcome with emotion. it was surreal to see, touch, hug and love so many people she’d only known long distance.

all these relationships spanned from a few months to several years. she had yet to comprehend why she screamed not once, but twice when she saw her friend from the u.k. she’d never done that before for anyone. maybe love just does that.

even with the physical distance, so much of life had been shared heart to heart in telephone conversations and over chat. that epic friday evening was a wash of glory, tears, laughter and worship on a level she had sorely missed for years. she was finally with family, her tribe. and it was good. but someone was missing.

saturday morning came. more teaching, more fellowship, then late lunch at a local restaurant mulling over all the wonderful things happening. she acted on the nudge to call her new friend to come and join them that evening. they agreed on a time, and in a matter of hours, they were sitting together again, side by side this time.  she was on the right, her friend on the left.

the teaching was good, rich, full of life and impartation. then came time for the offering.  she had four one dollar bills in her wallet. the remaining large bills were a gift from the new friend for a trip home to see momma. that was important. she looked at the ones and put them back in her wallet. she had no peace giving the cash. dad spoke. “you don’t need to sow into this conference. it’s my gift to you.” she thanked him silently.

the holy moment

five minutes later, he spoke again. “i want you to give ****** your ring.” she felt the prick in her heart immediately as she slid the two-toned ring off of her left ring finger. it was her favorite, most loved, cherished and enjoyed piece of jewelry.

turning to her new friend, she spoke. “father wants you to have my ring.” it was a holy moment as both women’s eyes filled with tears. they knew what it meant, even while seeing only a small fraction of what he wanted for them, with them.

it was a david and jonathan moment with strong women in the lead roles.

it was covenant, and it was eternal.

Ring 3
photo credit: anonymous

 

Ring 1
photo credit: h.s.m.

(copyright © 2017 jane doe productions)