truth, mercy, judgment and the $39,800.00 grift

when the 1^st edition of the “kid by the side of the road,” book was published, millions of people around the world ordered copies. many ordered multiple copies to give to family, friends, acquaintances, even complete strangers.

the content was not new information, but a compilation of various false flags and events with the actual truth of those events detailed out for readers to learn how they had been duped by the government and media all of their lives.

impressive graphics drew the reader in. the book’s size was oversized by design, made to be a coffee table book.

grace covered this book. by all appearances at that time, it was done with the right heart motives.

then the 2^nd edition was promoted, also called “kid by the side of the road.” this edition had the same cover as the 1st edition, but featured a photo of melania trump on the back cover. she is shown wearing the dress she wore when exiting air force one after leaving the white house at the end of trump’s presidency.

what was not disclosed in this offering was the fact that all of the content was identical to 1^stedition. there was no difference.

most only learned this when they opened the pages and began reading. the fancy foil on the front cover didn’t make up for the gut punch of feeling ripped off.

this was the 1^st obvious grift.

the deliberate non-disclosure of the duplicated content was a scam on the people that admired this man. they respected the knowledge he had and held him up a leader in the truther community.

the next grift, the most recent, was more egregious.

200 copies of a special “Pre-Order “The Storm” by Juan O’Savin w/ Whiskey Tumbler Box Set,” item 5343, were marketed on 107daily.com.

she ordered her book and glassed on march 3, 2022. the credit card receipt arrived in her email confirming order #5599 in the 107daily shop.

these purchases were non-refundable, non-cancellable. no date was given as to when these orders would ship.

the persona juan o’savin would occasionally update customers when pressed for answers by various hosts during interviews.

he explained they were unable to get the special, high-quality paper he was using for these books. this was the reason publicly given for the delay in publication and order fulfillment.

when she emailed info@107daily.com for her own order status in december 2022, she was told there had never been a paper shortage, that juan lied [to those who purchased the 3^rd edition.]

since march, 2022 until the time of this writing, juan o’savin has been sitting on $39,800.00 (200 X $199.00) and deceiving people about the true reason for the delay.

people still don’t have their orders.

he openly lied about the delay multiple times.

__________________________________________________

shocked, angry and heart sick didn’t begin to describe the emotions she experienced as she heard a different side of the juan o’savin persona on every interview she listened to.

father god was allowing her to hear what he heard until she could listen no more.

he stopped fighting for the people and instead began promoting himself.

he was more concerned with pushing product and artwork.

his great knowledge had become a stumbling block as people idolized the facade he created.

pride blinded him.

he lost both clarity and purpose.

_________________________________________________

“the truth is that perfect love requires perfect justice and perfect justice requires a balance of judgment and mercy.

while mercy triumphs over judgment, judgment is mandatory on those who refuse divine mercy.”

dan duval, bride ministries

father god’s kindness leads us to repentance, to changing our minds.

if we say we belong to him, he will hold us accountable.

judgment begins in his house first.

we will know the truth that makes us free.

love disciplines.

after discipline comes restoration.

because he is a good father.

__________________________________________________

to the man beneath the façade:

you are more.

father god knows the plans he has for you. they are good.

you were created for so much more.

remember who you are and to whom you belong.

his name is jesus.

yield your life to him. be born again.

realign your heart and your motives.

the old has gone, the new has come.

it is time.

tes·ti·mo·ny

“and they overcame him by the blood of the lamb and the word of their testimony..” revelation 12:11

the word of their testimony.

/ˈtestəˌmōnē/

noun

a formal written or spoken statement, especially one given in a court of law.

Similar: evidence, sworn statement, attestation, affidavit, statement, declaration

_______________________________________

it was now a week since mom died. she was processing details, experiencing waves of grief, sudden bursts of tears. but there was more. there was her testimony. it was undeniably jesus.

years earlier, she had prayed for her mother to finish what she had been given to do in the earth. father god assured her then it would be so.

their relationship was never easy. some was due to freemasonry curses, some due to other influences both natural and spiritual.

as she grew in the truth of her relationship with father, jesus and holy spirit, she shared pearls with her mother. it often resulted in negative responses, but the truth of the testimonies could not be ignored or denied. every religious demon screamed when she shared, but she shared anyway.

she and all of her household would be saved. period. it meant persecution, mocking and ridicule from the whole family over decades, even now as mom lay dying.

but it could not, would not change the outcome. each of them would know his kindness, his goodness that would lead them to repentance.

_______________________________________

her last visit with mom was several months earlier. holy spirit showed her the end was coming soon. she picked up fried chicken along with a couple other favorite items and took them to the nursing home.

over 3 hours or so, they watched a cooking show as they talked. then holy spirit nudged her. she paused, looking at her mother sitting in the recliner to her right. she took a breath, opened her mouth and the words came out.

“part of why I came today is to have this conversation with you. you know that we are not saved by infant baptism, right?”

“i know,” was mom’s quiet response.

she continued. “do you remember that prayer that I gave you and lyle (her stepfather) before he died? when he was in the hospital, i came to visit. while i was next to his bed holding his hand, he got tears in his eyes and said, “i read your letter.”

he was telling me he had asked jesus to be his lord and savior, that he had received forgiveness. he wanted me to know.”

mom was quiet for a moment, then said, “i saw angels come to get him when he died.” it wasn’t the first time she’d shared that information. mom knew there was more than what she had been taught. she had heard the testimonies her oldest child shared. they were undeniable.

“mom, would you like to pray with me while I’m here?”

“no.” the answer came quickly, too quickly.

some religious demon was interfering. no surprise. it wasn’t the first time.

instead of being offended, she treated it lightly.

“okay, but if you’re not in heaven when I get there, i’m going to be really pissed off. don’t mess this up,” she laughed. those words would not fall to the ground.

here they were, months later, with very different circumstances. mom had made up her mind she was done living here. she stopped eating, stopped taking her meds. she quit. the decline was rapid, and without the meds, she had a stroke. it marked the beginning of the end of her life on earth.

the condition of her body was shocking, yes, but her spirit and soul were very much alive and attentive. it was wednesday evening, just hours after the stroke occurred. her left side was gone, she could not swallow. responses were limited to squeezing hands for yes or no questions.

she quickly decided to take thursday off work in addition to the already scheduled day off on friday. the next few days would be spent with siblings and nieces.

she knew she needed precious time alone with her mother. she asked father god for it, and he made it happen. thursday morning, she had an hour or so alone. she sat with mom, one right hand clutching the other. as their hands gripped each other, holy spirit showed her he was restoring the bonding that never occurred when she was an infant. tears came. healing tears.

later in the day, she leaned in and picked her mother’s fragile body up so her sister-in-law could adjust the pillow. as she laid her back down on the bed, she saw tears form in her mother’s left eye. was it from the hug? was it from getting human touch again after being without for so long?

perhaps. she knew it was deep. and powerful.

_______________________________________

friday morning came. she arose early, prayed and worshiped at home and in the car on her way to the nursing home. holy spirit prompted her to play laura rhinehart’s song, “come to the well,” on repeat, to stay in that place. it was an invitation to drink in holy spirit, to be filled.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kd8vdHSjjH4

she arrived and walked to mom’s room, closing the door for privacy. turning the song on again, she sat holding her hand, praying in tongues over the woman who gave her life.

she spoke with her, recounting memories, recounting hard things, things that sought to make them enemies of each other. the devil was still a liar. he would not have the last word here.

tears flowed. then, as the song began again, she sang with it, singing over her mother lying before her. walls came down at the expansion of his love flowing into her spirit and soul. it was time.

“mom, this is a simple thing. jesus already died for all your sin. it is finished. all you need to do is an exchange here, your heart for his. you receive what he did for you. it’s easy. and he wants it even more than you do. you are his daughter.”

she continued to pray even as heaving sobs came forth. the warfare was heavy in that place, but angels were present protecting them both. after some time, peace settled upon them and father god spoke. “her salvation is secure.”

more tears flowed, tears of gratitude, tears of honor, tears of love, tears of grief. even tears of joy in such a very hard place.

it was finished.

_______________________________________

this testimony would speak to many.

many would come to jesus through it.

testimony is born out of relationship, out of love, out of his kindness and goodness.

the testimony had already spoken at work. it spoke at the grocery store.

each person hearing the testimony was visibly moved.

holy spirit showed her the sheer power it held, the weightiness of it.

it would not return to father god void, but it would return to him in full manifestation of what it was sent to do.

mom’s salvation would speak.

and her whole household would be saved.

_______________________________________

testimony is evidence, a sworn affidavit.

jesus is undeniable truth.

give your testimony wherever you can.

it speaks.

like enoch had

she spent mother’s day alone, but not really.

a week earlier, she’d needed a road trip and her son’s home was the destination. the car was her prayer closet. she needed that space and some miles alone with holy spirit.

on the way, she stopped at the grocery store and bought organic lettuce and uncured summer sausage, some for her and some for her son. when she arrived, she knew it was only a quick visit. he was busy working on four-wheelers and had made it clear he did not have time for conversation.

he was surprised at the food gifts and thanked her. hoping for time together, she reminded him the next sunday was mother’s day. his expression was a mixture of ‘oh, shit’ and ‘i’m not changing my plans.’ he had a baby shower to attend that day.

as she locked eyes with him, the words were right there, just waiting to be spoken. she wanted to gently explain to her son that if he wanted a wife, he best learn to treat his mother honorably. if he didn’t make space for momma, he was not making space for a wife.

instead, she looked at him with a smile, caught the words before they left her mouth, and told him she would share those thoughts another time. timing really is everything. and he knew without her saying a word. he had to make different choices for the outcomes he wanted. she would continue to pray for him.

back to mother’s day. the day had been peaceful and quiet. she’s done a few things around the house and picked up some groceries. it was late afternoon. the weather was cool, great for walking. she’d had early dinner and felt restless. “father, can I go for a walk?” he answered immediately, “yes, you can.” hmm. there was a plan.

she dressed and headed out around the lake. when she was about two thirds of the way around, she saw a large bird flying into the the area, then soaring over the water. was it a hawk or an eagle? she looked for the white head on the bird while it scanned the water for fish. its’ prey targeted, the raptor swooped down and snatched it out of the water. it flew closer to her and she saw it was an eagle, just a young one whose head wasn’t white yet. father was speaking to her, affirming her. much of their communication was silent; it was a knowing.

she continued around the lake, thankful for that encounter. as she approached her building, she stopped to listen to a bird sing in a bush. out of the blue, she thought of enoch and looked up. “you know, sometimes i wish you’d just jack me out of here like you did enoch.” to her surprise, enoch appeared on her left and father spoke. “enoch will be your guide this next leg of the journey.” she said, “okay.” what else was there to say? this was a huge honor. and an old request granted..

the backstory begins here:

time travel back to the early 2000’s, say 2003, to the time she was learning to walk with father, jesus and holy spirit.

she had pressed in until she had her heavenly prayer language, speaking in other tongues. prayer was important, especially tongues. the enemy cannot translate it. it’s a highly effective weapon.

several times a week, she would drive into the small town nearby to walk the high school track to pray and worship. no doubt the neighbors heard the tongues and her singing at the top of her voice.

on this particular saturday morning, she was praying and singing ‘irresistible,’ by darlene zschech. it was the same song she’d sung out over the hills of samaria only months earlier in israel.

during that period of time, enoch was the topic of study. she was fascinated by him, his knowledge, the relationship and intimacy he and father god shared. as she walked that humid morning, she came around the west side of the track and stopped. she looked up and took a breath. with both confidence and trepidation, she told her father what she wanted.

“i want a walk with you like enoch had.” the gravity of her request immediately shifted the atmosphere of the cosmos. as she awaited his response, she heard the holy hush. the weightiness of her words was palpable.

all activity ceased. angels, the cloud of witnesses and every other occupant of heaven peered toward the earth to see who would dare make such an ask.

she continued to wait, her feet stuck in place on the asphalt track. finally, he answered her, his voice tender and gentle: “that will take a lifetime to walk out, child.”

_____________________________

the request she made decades earlier was not forgotten.

enoch is her guide for this leg of the journey.

p.s. thank you for encouraging me to get back to the keyboard. heaven sent you.

shouting into the wind

they drove to the coast for the day. she had some props to stage and photograph for a piece she was writing. she invited him along for company, for help and because she loved him.

it wasn’t a good weather day at the beach. the temperature was cold and the sky was overcast. the wind blew hard. after parking the car, they got out their cameras to explore the treasures of the beach.

it wasn’t long before he began walking the other direction, intently focused on unusual birds and adjusting camera settings. maybe today he would get perfect shots that would fix all the broken things.

she watched him go, giving him time do what he loved. it was low tide, offering them a rare opportunity to see eddies and tide pools normally hidden in high tide. the wind and the waves formed intricate designs and patterns in the sand. she took a few photos as she admired the handiwork and creativity of the one who’d made it all.

after a while she needed his help. she began calling his name as she walked toward him. to her surprise, he turned and walked the other direction, oblivious to her calls, to her existence on the beach with him. she started shouting his name hoping he would hear her voice above the wind, willing him to hear her deep calling to his.

suddenly, stark reality pierced her heart. tears and wind stung her eyes. she stopped shouting and stopped walking. she stood still in the wind watching him walk further away from her.

she realized he wouldn’t have needed to hear her if he saw her and honored her in his heart. he would have sensed her need and heard her calling him in his spirit.

but he couldn’t honor her because he didn’t honor father. and there were things blocking his vertical relationship with his abba. they were cameras, lenses, flash drives, birds, animals, all good things, yes, but they’d become idols.

the very gifts he’d been given were now stumbling blocks as he looked to them for identity and fulfillment. every day, he put them first, blocking the goodness, love and healing father wanted to pour into him.

those good things caused blindness, a tunnel vision in every part of his life. he was unable to see anyone else because he was focused on himself. similar to a funhouse mirror, the tunnel vision was destroying the very relationships he said mattered most to him.

vertical relationships with father, jesus and holy spirit must be correctly aligned for horizontal relationships with people to work.

first things first.

possibilities, potential and promise

it was 5 am saturday morning. she was wide awake. sleeping in wasn’t happening today. another roller coaster week in her never a dull moment life was over. it was time to rest and reflect, laugh again.

it was a melting pot of warfare, sleepless nights, tears, passionate conversations with bad endings. demons swearing at her. nice. what was that about being blessed when you’re persecuted and people talk ugly to you? she shook her head and laughed. the devil only has a hissy fit when you’re doing something right. well then.

trust the process

“trust the process,” her friend told her. when she heard it, she knew it came right from papa god’s heart. trust the process. indeed. she’d asked papa for his best for her.

she’d seen him through his papa’s eyes for some time now. she saw him in truth, in perfection, as a beloved son even when he wasn’t fully awake to this reality.

he’d had brilliant prophetic words spoken over him, words of promise, hope and a future. he saw vignettes of unlimited possibilities and potential, the ways papa god wanted to bless him as his son. he saw how his gifts and talents could be brought to life.

sprout-933892_960_720 — *photo credit: pixaby*

most importantly, he was presented with the beautiful gift of a wife, a full partner he could walk with in this life. would he step into his destiny? would he come back for her?

this was a major life decision. in returning to her, he’d be turning his face fully back to papa god. it meant walking arm in arm with him in unity. it meant stepping into sonship.

it meant radical change in direction, a homecoming worth celebrating loudly. the cloud of witnesses perched on the edge of their seats wondering how this would play out. would he choose well? would he be bold and courageous? yes, the stakes were high but the reward was great.

she’d prayed intently over him and his family for cleansing and restoration in their blood lines. for all the enemy stole to be returned to them 7-fold.

weeks turned to months, months grew to years. she wept over him, took communion over him, visioning life with him. she determined to cooperate fully with papa god, willing him to have every opportunity to make the best choice for his future and future generations.

she prayed for wisdom and revelation that the eyes of his understanding would be open. she prayed for his heart to be one with father god’s heart again. she called to his spirit to rise up and lead his soul, declaring his spirit would only be led by holy spirit.

faithful friends stood with her and prayed. in all of it she kept telling papa god she wanted his best.

she gave him wide margins to work things out on his own. she spoke when holy spirit prompted her – and sometimes when silence was the better option. grace covered her.

unconditional love often gets an unexpected response

wisdom dictated several things she would not compromise. those things had earned her unfriending, blocking and ‘goodbye.’ unconditional love often gets an unexpected response.

jesus chimed in on her thoughts, showing her some of his daily experience. he’s telling us, “i love you, i’m here for you, not leaving you. ever.” his compassion rises, watching us trying to stitch up our gaping wounds. we lay there bleeding, still holding up the hand, saying, “i’m good here. get the hell away from me.”

see how we are

see how we are. still, he doesn’t leave. he waits until we give in, showing him our wounds, allowing him to love and heal us. she remembered her conversation with jesus, drowning in her own lake of mess. “i am so freaking broken. what do you want with me??”

she could see it wasn’t him rejecting her. it was a combination of pain, fear and angst speaking, a realization that the old ways of dodging brokenness weren’t working.

she didn’t leave, either. she loved him hard, praying for him when she would have rather kicked his backside. love never fails, never gives up. it gets up in the morning to love another day, to love the hell away.

now, she waited, trusting the process, waiting on the promise.

the best man is coming for her.

the girl who wasn’t clumsy

she wasn’t sure when the thought came to her. and to go to that restaurant? she hadn’t been there since they’d last been there together. the pleasant thought stayed with her until it became almost a compulsion. breakfast food. ham and eggs. what?

scrambled-eggs-5865_960_720 — *photo credit: pixabay*

the weekend arrived and the prompting to go out to breakfast persisted. but it wouldn’t happen today. today was just about rest. she had no intention of leaving the house. the last week brought revelation and information she hadn’t necessarily appreciated, even though it was necessary. mucking around in family cobwebs was dusty and dirty. an epsom salt bath to get it off was in order. saturday was largely uneventful, exactly the way she wanted it.

then sunday morning came. she rose early and cleaned up. should she go to church? no. that was easy. she was going out to breakfast. ham and eggs called her. ridiculous, but all right.

in the meantime, another friend texted her. she was going through some transitions and needed time. they talked until the issues were unpacked and prayers were spoken to resolve them. it was good to be daughters of the king. he was kind, loving, patient. he ruled his kingdom well.

she left the house, got in her car and drove downtown to the restaurant. there was parking right in the front of the stairs up to the entrance. she parked and sat in the car for a moment. off to the right was the courtyard they’d sat in so many times after church drinking iced teas, beer or hot tea depending on the weather and the mood.

they’d sorted things in this place, laughing, crying, grieving, making friends with their favorite waitress, all the while looking to the future. the memories were sweet and there would be more of them. soon.

this morning, no one was sitting outside. it was still cool, the weekend prior to the grand eclipse. everyone was out of town getting in position to witness the heaven-kissing-earth event.

the only activity was the young woman sweeping the entrance to the courtyard. she was a teenager, fifteen or sixteen perhaps, with long sandy, blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail. she was assigned to wait on any guests who chose to sit outside during her shift.

she was drawn to her. why? she grabbed her bag and exited the car, greeting the young woman at the same time. “good morning! how are you?” there was purpose in being friendly. a door needed opening. they made some small talk, and then she saw them. the young woman’s right cheek had scratches all over it.

“honey, what happened to your cheek?” she asked. the young woman hesitated, unsure of herself. was she embarrassed? was she afraid? what was it?

finally, the waitress met her gaze and answered. “i, uh, fell down. i’m sort of clumsy. i fall down a lot.” she looked into the young woman’s eyes intently. did she call her out or did she meet her where she was? grace took over.

“well, then. you are a daughter of god, and he didn’t make you to be clumsy and fall down. do you mind if i pray for you, honey?” “no, not at all,” the waitress smiled shyly.

she bridged the distance between them with two steps and put her left hand on the girl’s right shoulder. in a few sentences, she commanded her angels to protect her from future falls and harm of any kind, declaring that daddy god would order her steps and make them sure. she blessed her.

when she opened her eyes, she saw the young woman still had her eyes closed. it was a sweet image to see. as they finished, a young man, either a cook or a waiter from inside the restaurant called out from the top of the stairs to young woman. hmm. okay. she would have time to observe more while she ate. she went up the stairs and got seated.

the menu choices were varied and good, but she stuck to ham, eggs, potatoes and sourdough toast. as she ate, she recalled another meal in that place with other dear friends she hadn’t seen in months. more good memories. it was good to be here and think on happy things.

the young woman appeared to clear her plate and refill her water glass. she had been touched that a stranger loved her enough to pray for her, and not say out loud what they both knew: she was not clumsy. she did not fall. someone had pushed her down. hard.

they kept the secret between them and daddy god. it was fine for now. but when she went back there again, she would be checking on the girl who wasn’t clumsy.

he is glorified

it was saturday morning, the first day of the long holiday weekend. waking an hour later than normal, she went downstairs to make coffee and breakfast. a few minutes later, she was back at her desk to eat in her room with a view. it was a feast: coffee with bacon, eggs and a lemon ginger scone from her friend’s bake shop on etsy.

the deer were grazing in the backyard, a multitude of birds singing over them. yellow finches flitted from tree to tree as a crow teetered on the very top branch of a cedar tree. it reminded her of an angel that was perhaps a tad too heavy for the top of the christmas tree. what a good, good day. creation was awake.

“holy spirit, you order my day. i give it to you.” she scrolled through her facebook feed as she ate, responding to messages and posting the words holy spirit gave to her to encourage others. at times, she wondered if it was good use of her time. little did she know.

during the past week, she’d observed an increase in communication with a friend who lived on the opposite coast. they posted comments back and forth. she kept reading, typing. breakfast was excellent, her plate empty. had bacon ever tasted as good as it did today? maybe not.

the little nudge came, the knowing, barely perceptible, but it was there. “call her.” she rose to get her phone from the nightstand and returned to the desk. scrolling through the contacts, she found that she still had her friend’s name and number. the scent of lavender essential oil wafted through the air. it was soothing and grounding as she called the number.

her friend didn’t answer the call. instead, voicemail answered with no identification as to whom the number belonged. hoping for the best, she left a message, explaining that she was prompted to call her friend, but apologizing and blessing if the number now belonged to someone else. she ended the call.

going back to facebook, she messaged her friend, telling her she just tried to call, but not sure she had the right number. then she saw the ‘why’ in her call. the messages confirmed the purpose.

friend: “was in gas station most likely the time u called was struggling not to buy cigs. then god. jesus whispered ‘i will, i am helping you. i will help you. you don’t need a crutch. you are healed. took me by surprise how fast the want left when i took his hand. thank you for reaching out to me.”

jane doe:”wow!!!!!!! that was the why!!!!

i’m an ex-smoker, love.”

friend: “oh wow wow double wow!!! that’s papa!!!

not smoking is like learning a new language
the urge was intense
his whisper, ‘i will help you.’ over taken in jesus love here. thank you ****** for calling.
i just heard it. and the time is the same time i was standing at the counter
wow!!!!!”

jane doe: “you will not be enslaved again in a yoke of bondage.

this would make a great jane doe story. i can write it just from what happened today.

you are not identified and he is glorified.

send me the time of the call.”

she had walked this path to freedom with jesus. she knew. she came alongside her friend with strength to push back that yoke of bondage.

friend: “what a good dad. as he said i will help you. that’s when u called.

12:09.

i am free this started few weeks ago progressively. I was listening to the birds, water sounds of papa’s creation.

not identified and he is glorified.

i’m so thankful you called. he was working this encounter from the start today lolol.

“jane doe: “yes. i was in tears and prayer almost from the time i woke up. and he drew us together more closely this week so we would be in tune with each other. i saw that before today. please put any other details you want to share in here, and i will craft them into the story.”

friend: “Need a min. lol

I seem to talk better than writing here.”

New number so you have it *** *** ****. he is glorified. crying in his love.

jane doe: “got it!

i love what he did between us today!”

friend: “i was just going to tell you that. i love what he has done between us today. powerful love. and we didn’t even know at the time. i’m blown away by the way. in awe of grace. you really called at 9:09.”

can’t wait to read he is glorified. i’ll write later a little more of what was happening.

the timing is father all the way. i told him, i think i think better smoking father my brain doesn’t seem to work as well. words coming out when i hadn’t processed, thinking before i spoke all week. lol wow wow wow. how did this come together today? i’m crying hope you get to see wonder woman today.”

Papa had swooped into time to rescue his girl through another daughter. on one coast, it was 12:09 pm, and on the other it 9:09 am.

the timing was perfect.

who’s your daddy?

authority and submission

it was relatively the same conversation on a different day, this time via telephone.

he was complaining about the demons in the apartment. it was the same lot that lived there before her arrival and after she’d left. the older residents had likely invited a few new ones by now.

the latest round of harassment and victimization included an apple thrown across the kitchen, cupboard doors opening and slamming shut with a new stunt thrown into the mix. one of them had taken his laptop and chucked it on the floor when he wasn’t home. this act of destruction required a trip to the big box electronics store for repairs.

she shook her head, listening in frustration. the demons had never messed with her. when she was around they’d fled to dark corners and closets.

he went on, wallowing in self-pity about the bad things they were doing to him. it was a ploy for sympathy. of course it was. she bought it for a minute and began praying for him.

he listened as she began, “father, i’m seriously tired of listening to all the crap the enemy is doing to _______. she began to take authority over the enemy but something wasn’t right. she stopped.

she turned her attention back to him. “you know, we’ve had this conversation multiple times. you were made for so much more. you were not made to live at this level in this misery. if you would fully come into your identity in jesus, you wouldn’t have to put up with this crap.”

he said nothing in response to the truth he was hearing. he never did, never engaged in this part of his salvation. self-pity had a louder voice again this go ’round.

they finished their conversation and she went on with her day. same old story. she shook her head. it was another reminder of why they weren’t together anymore. choices and free will. sigh.

two days later, she saw a post by graham cooke on facebook. her eyes grew wide as saucers when she read it. not only did the light bulb go on, it blew up.

papa graham offered this wisdom: “process is where we discover god at work in our lives. it is where we submit to the work of his hands. process is everything. there is no growth or maturity without it.

if we do not submit to the process, the enemy will not submit to us. the process is the foundation for our obedience, which results in our authority. there is no authority outside of our submission.” (from qualities of a spiritual warrior by graham cooke)

authority courthouse — photo credit: pixabay

there it was. she knew this was spot on. there is no authority outside of our submission. she’d been through process learning obedience. she had been granted authority and father god continued to increase it. it was the reason stuff moved when she was around.

merriam-webster defines authority as 1. power to influence or command thought, opinion, or behavior, and 2. freedom granted by one in authority.

submission is defined as 1. the condition of being submissive, humble, or compliant, and 2. an act of submitting to the authority or control of another.

as she mulled over graham’s words, holy spirit added to it. “submission is also a choice to trust, to receive love, to have full on relationship with papa, jesus and me. it’s believing we have your best interests in mind always. it’s believing we are always good.

it’s submitting to being and living as the new creation that you already are. to remain locked into your former identity as a dead man only produces more death.

sure, papa’s children will go to heaven, but they will not experience the righteousness, peace and joy of our kingdom here without submission, without the process or the journey.

becoming a manifested son or daughter is a choice. you cannot rule and reign with jesus outside of embracing your son ship.”

who are you? the new man or the dead man?

what is your identity in jesus?

galvanized heart

the battles are intense at times.

sometimes jesus asks her if she’s glad she came back from the dead the second time. the first time, she had no choice, but the second time offered the choice of going on to heaven or returning to earth to finish her assignments.

she answers his question each time, thoughtfully and honestly. he laughed at her response one day as she rolled her eyes and said, “maybe not so much today.”

other days, he didn’t have to ask, her joy was apparent. occasionally, her answer didn’t come in words, only tears.

in her innocence, she imagined smooth sailing after making the decision to return to earth and finish what father had given her to do. smooth sailing never came. it did, in fact, get worse. quickly.

the enemy knew where to strike, where she was vulnerable. 3 car crashes weren’t enough; there would be 2 more. the physical injuries were nothing compared to the emotional trauma.

the job layoff came. another house was lost. friends betrayed her. the list of ugly happenings grew.

she thought father was mad at her for a minute. he was not.

the enemy, however, was determined to make her believe father did not love her.

she was in the fire, her own prayers answered a little each day. it was not because father was doing things to her, but because of his work on her heart through the bad things.

it was suffering. in it, she was learning father’s character, faithfulness, love, goodness.

when the man she grew to love came into her life, all hell broke loose again. she paused, retracing her steps, wondering if she’d heard right. she had.

something deeper was at work here. it was that thing she’d asked jesus for years earlier.

she and jesus had been at the kitchen table discussing the book of john. the conversation was lively, playful, then serious.

she’d been reading about what he did and what he said about doing greater works than he did. love was the foundation from which he did everything.

she looked at him across the table and spoke.

“look, here’s the thing: if you want me to do what you did, and the greater works, then i want the same revelation of your love that john had – or greater, if there is such a thing. i can’t do this without that,” she said, waving her hand across the open book.

in asking, she really didn’t know what she would walk through in pursuit of the prize. she learned to let jesus be enough for her.

over time, father showed her she could be trusted with what was most precious to him: people.

when she stopped fighting the process, it got easier. the human ego is a beast.

she realized she had to lay down her life, all of it, so someone else could be free. even if that someone acted like an arch enemy most of the time. the price was high. she decided to pay it.

over time, the filters came off. the religion came off. the politics came off. the judgments came off. the false identity fell away.

one day, she saw it. it was a fraction of the suffering jesus endured.

she saw enough to get it. any remaining resistance melted away. it was the ‘ah ha’ moment. this was what it meant to lay down one life for another. sacrifice.

she saw the price of her own salvation, layer after layer, along with the sea of people who’d played a role in it, willing or not.

that thing she’d asked for? he gave it to her after all the mess was washed away.

he spoke. “your heart is now galvanized in my love.”

galvanization is the process of ‘adding a protective layer of coating to keep something from rusting.’

chain-88463_960_720 — photo credit: pixabay

ask for it.

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tes·ti·mo·ny

like enoch had

shouting into the wind

the girl who wasn’t clumsy

he is glorified

authority and submission

galvanized heart

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