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America, A Nation of Fluffy Special Snowflakes

I was talking to British and German friends yesterday who asked me about a fellow American we used to be friends with. They haven’t seen him in a while after they told him to stop with the ranting on the presidential elections, his disagreement at Trump’s win for Presidency, his complaints about how unfairly him and his rainbow friends were being treated in the country, and his general dissatisfaction with his own life through blaming others for his circumstance and state. I haven’t talked to him since I was a Christian and he’d constantly bait me with religious memes and specifically tag me to ask for my opinion on controversial religious things which he could then point out in his favor of why God gives the holy approval for him to deliberately continue sinning against God. He was not good for my stress level and I’ve let him go as a friend long ago.

“I really think the bloke would do you lot some good,” said a British friend referring to President Trump. And I agreed. He would also do good for the international community.

Britain has always been the strongest ally of the United States. Unfortunately for the Brits, that connection means that if there’s some war hungry asshole as President who goes to war, the Brits would have to go to war too in support of the United States of America. And that kind of behavior from a President can lead to strained relationships especially when other countries have no problems with the countries we’re trying to make up lies about to invade or countries whose governments we’re rebelling against and trying to overthrow.

I reminded my friend of this. Trump would be better for international relations as he’s looking to connect to the international community in peace and friendship instead of a fucking egotistical dictator of the world, which we’ve been as a country to the entire world many times in the past. The entire Middle East is a breeding zone for islamic terrorists because we’re assholes and we’ve destroyed their countries, we created the islamic terrorists we’re now fighting against, and we’ve dismantled any sense of peace that region has with our constant bullshit meddling. Trump has a lot to clean up from previous presidents, but I believe he will clean up this mess we created and it starts with getting the fuck out of other countries and their businesses and how their governments are running. We have no business meddling in the affairs of others.

So even people in other countries thinks Trump is a good change for America. But yet, we have all this division in America. There’s more hate groups popping up now than ever before under the disguise of “love and peace” while they preach destruction and death and treason. What in the hell is wrong with America?

What’s wrong with us is that we are a generation of fucking idiots. And since stupid catches on like fire, the disgusting cesspool of filth also sucks in older generations who were taught better and who should know how to behave better. America and Americans have become a disgrace.

We are a nation of fools committed to our foolishness whose false sense of intelligence is so fucking roundabout that we somehow believe 8+5=10.

We are a nation of special snowflakes who cry and bitch and moan and then throw temper tantrums like five year olds because we don’t get our way in everything.

We are a nation of people like the guy my friends and I talked about, someone who lives in America, has a roof over their head, has a job, can afford all the brightly colored wigs he wears and the expensive makeup to cake his face in layers to look like a girl, who has clean water and working bathrooms, who uses the internet and makes phone calls, who eats well even and has help from friends and family if needed, someone who can be mean as fuck and disrespect other people and their beliefs, who baits people on purpose to arguments, who bullies others when they don’t agree with him, and yet still moans about how his life is such a fucking tragedy because of everyone else always discriminating against him when he’s not in fucking girl costume and other people don’t even know he dresses in drag because he hides it like a shameful skeleton in his closet.

We are a nation of fucking assholes who blatantly fucks people over and then cries like a pathetic kicked puppy when someone “hurts our feelings”.

I fucking hate people, more so now than before, not because of their skin color or what the fuck is in between their legs, but because they are fucking stupid and they behave in fucking stupid ways. People in America can’t get their heads out of their asses long enough to realize they’re not the fluffy special snowflakes they believe they are. There is no way I will ever condone this fucking mass hysteria trending snowflake syndrome bullshit. There is also no way I will ever fucking respect any of these people whose sole intentions are to hurt others through violence, through coercion, through any means necessary so they can pat themselves on the back for a job well done at becoming the scum of humanity under the disguise of peace and love. Fuck them and fuck their lies.

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Posted by on January 22, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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The Great Love Affair That Never Was

When my friend says that she hates to see me lose my connection to Jesus…

I’ve never been very good at lying with important things.

I wish I still had the stupid optimism that God cared and that somewhere, somehow, he was working it all out for me for my good like the Bible says. I can paraphrase scripture quite well, but to feel God’s presence, I haven’t felt it in a long while now and I wonder if I’ve ever felt it in the first place. Maybe I was just delusional in my love for God, except now, I don’t think it matters anymore.

I used to miss Him so much. I used to love Him so much also. God was everything for me for a while. I couldn’t wait to finish this life just so I could be in His presence. I thought God would save me. I thought that in all the religions in all the world, if everyone was so against God, then there must really be a God and they’re all afraid of Him. He must be the only real thing. And I believed. I didn’t believe Jesus to begin with, but if Jesus was God and I believed in God, then I believed in Jesus as well too as Jesus was and is God. And so I stuck with it. I found something that filled the empty hole in my heart, that plugged up the yearning I had for something more, for a life with meaning and purpose.

I had always been involved with the supernatural and with magic, no matter how much I avoided it or tried to ignore it. It was a recurring theme in my life from childhood and even now. Now, I hardly do anything magical. I simply have bad dreams, give no more thoughts to them, and keep moving. God didn’t take away my bad dreams, even after I got baptized. Things in my dreams would taunt me and hurt me because I was so in love with God and Jesus. It would be worse. It didn’t get better. And demons didn’t flee at the name of Jesus. It made me wonder if I even had the right Jesus and not some guy named Jesus (Hey-Seuss). The only change that came from me giving my life to God was that I didn’t feel the emptiness in my heart anymore. I feel it now. I just ignore it. That emptiness, that hopelessness, yeah, it’s all there again.

I lost my faith in God after realizing one day that God didn’t love me. He didn’t want heathens and people who converted. We weren’t his first choice. We were never his choice. We were only a substitute for the Jews that He loved, the Jews that He tried to provoke to jealousy through giving us some of His great love. We were just an afterthought. And if the Jews weren’t such stuck up and self centered jerks, if they loved God like how He loved them, then none of us, no one would’ve been saved. We are at best, second in God’s great love, and at worst, we are just a tool to be used and manipulated by God to create what He wanted. I had no answers. God gave me no answers. And thus, I spiraled downward, wanting to know why I wasn’t as loved as I thought I was, or worse, why I wasn’t even loved at all.

Rachel, the girl with the tattoos who came with her mother and her mother got sent away, the one I called my best friend at one time and the one who calls herself Zim…I thought God wanted me to be nice to them and take care of them. And because I’m a horrible person, I told them that. I told them that I was only good to them because God wanted me to be. And I believed that. I couldn’t stand either mom or daughter, yet, I grew to love Zim because she reminded me so much of my idiotic wayward goth and rebellious little sister that I left behind. The were about the same age. I loved Zim like my sister. Sure, I was possessive, but there has never once been an instance in my entire life where I wanted to be gay. Never ever. And her mom got put in the shu and she would go out every day and yell for her mom. And every day, I would pray to God that she didn’t get caught so she didn’t end up in the shu either. And no matter how long Zim stayed at the window of the shu, talking to her mom, she never got caught. I was happy my prayers worked. And then one day, I said something to Zim that I didn’t even realize the truth of. I told her that if every prayer I prayed was answered by God, then it probably wasn’t God who answered my prayers. It was probably something else. And that’s the truth of it. I don’t think God was anywhere at all. It was something else pretending to be God for me. Something else wanting me to be foolishly and blindly follow in the name of god’s will when it was never God to begin with.

And isn’t that the story of men? We follow the will of God and commit atrocities. Through blind faith and vigilance, we killed and slaughtered and pillaged and burned and crucified and hurt. Perhaps it was never God that spoke to any of us at all, for I am reminded of one truth from the Bible, “This world belongs to him, the prince of the air, for he is the prince of this world”. The devil is the prince of this world and he owns it, therefore, until Jesus comes back to take this world after the tribulation, we are all servants of the devil.

I used to like the occult. All that stuff: magic, tarot cards, spirits, the dead, demons, visions, the future, etc, etc, I used to be interested in it and I used to search for it. I used go to psychics for readings and was the jerk who read them and told them they abused whatever ability they had so I was going to take it. I was the jerk who would mess with psychics hours on end just to laugh at them because there was nothing that anyone could tell me that I didn’t already know about my own future. Only idiots allowed other people, not very good ones at that, to determine their fates. Me? I decided my own fate always. I was the jerk that witches pleaded with to leave them alone because they were afraid of me. I was the jerk who pulled demons out of little kids and stuck them inside the flesh and blood vessels of others who had at least some 25 years left to their short lifespan.

I was a horrible jerk all around and I didn’t care because there wasn’t a meaning to life and none of this mattered. Invisible worlds. Invisible things. Stupid people who thought I could control the elements and worse, control demons—none of that mattered. It didn’t give me meaning to life. It didn’t tell me why in the world I was stuck here carrying around this slowly decaying carcass of rot. It didn’t kill me any faster.

God made it mattered once. Once long ago when I loved Him. And I resent Him for that glimmer of hope, for that idiotic vision of something holy and wonderful. My curse words have gone from fuck to Jesus Christ. It’s blasphemous, I’m sure, but it’s not intentional. It wasn’t as if I hated God enough that I started replacing my curse words with the name of Christ. Maybe on the inside, I hated God enough that I started replacing my curse words with the name Christ. It’s been a recurrent habit I need to break since hating God would waste too much energy spent for nothing. It only started after God and I had a misunderstanding and His silence isn’t an acceptable answer. Of course, I’m not entitled for an answer, and I used to get upset about that, but I don’t really care anymore. An answer. No answer. Silence. It’s all the same thing. Just the shadow of a supposedly loving God being His lovingly self.

Going back on topic to magic and the occult and the supernatural and tarot and such things, I used to care for them. I used to seek power. I used to crave knowledge. Now? I’m old. I’ve retired. I don’t care if the world ends today or if demons appear. I don’t care if I live or if I die. I don’t make a difference. I’m weary of this place. I’m even more weary of the other places, places I used to go hide and play in because this place is more annoying than having to sit through an opera of fat singers whose voices can shatter my ear drums. I have great disdain for this world and for all in it. It’s similar to a boil that festers and bubbles and hurts and pops with disgusting yellow green pus that smells like week old fish and boiled eggs soaking up the sun’s rays in the middle of a heap of reeking trash decomposing on the back of an overcrowded boat somewhere very close to the equator on summer solstice, the longest and hottest day of the year. I don’t care for magic and such frivolous shiny things anymore.

I’m not interested in dying gods on dying worlds saved by traveling mortal men (Angelus). Nor am I interested in horned gods who pretty much violate and rape unsuspecting and unwilling women and call that a tribute worthy of a favor (Ceros). I’m not interested in sacrificing virgins (as if such a thing even exists outside of very young children or infants). I’m not interested in the power plays of summer and winter courts (the faes). I’m not interested in blue wolves (Shaar) or demons (Az and Yaar and others). I’m not interested in pulling demons from people (too many idiots to name). I’m not interested in the others (the green eyed monster, etc) and I’m definitely not interested in my dreams anymore or why I have them (I’m looking at you, Death, and the various many ways I suffer and die in the dream world). I’m not even really interested in zombies nor vampires nor dragons and unicorns. There’s only one thing I’m interested in and it has nothing to do with magic or the occult or religion or spirituality at all. And that is a very long road ahead.

The love I had for God, of wanting to be the perfect Christian, the perfect wife, the perfect sexless humanoid angelic like being in the afterlife and whatever other things I believed in, it was all delusion. I am happy for people who believe in such things and I wish them all the best with whatever prayers I still have left in me to pray with, but it’s not for me anymore. Christianity was never meant to be for me. I tried it. It fit perfectly. And then I came out worse for wear because of it. I became someone else I wasn’t. I became this unblemished image of something so unattainable that the higher I climbed to reach it, the farther I fell, and the harder I hit the ground. The more broken I became. No one fixed me. I had to either fix myself or simply break to pieces.

I am not miserable. Rather, I am old and weary and I don’t care for the vapidness of this world or this place or this journey we call life or what comes after it or whatever happens to any other life that exists outside of my own since we’re all in the same boat anyhow. My bones creak. My mind is fraying at the edges. My heart is bleeding dry. I am tired. I don’t understand how many people can’t seem to understand that. They think I hate the world because I’m miserable. No, I hate the world because it’s full of stupid people and I don’t have the patience to deal with anyone’s stupidity or butt hurt feelings. I’m perfectly fine in my feebleness. Everyone else is helter skelter.

I don’t think God is for me. We will see. I don’t expect anything. Expecting things just makes you disappointed when things you hope for don’t happen.

 
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Posted by on December 28, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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How the Mid-Season Finale of Supernatural Made Me Cry

For anyone who has kept up with the tv series, Supernatural, the story of Sam and Dean has spanned eleven seasons. We’ve seen the boys hunt monsters and save people. We’ve seen the hell the boys have been through from not being able to save the people they set out to help to losing the people they love. And all the while, there was this hope that there was an endgame, that everything will be ok.

There are spoilers, so if someone’s not caught up to date or anything, please don’t read forward. If you do continue reading, consider yourself duly warned.

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Sam had been having visions from God every time he prayed. There was even a burning bush, like in the Bible. The visions were telling him that he had to return to the cage with Lucifer. And once there, he would find the answer to getting rid of the Darkness. Sam and Dean screwed up even bigger than normal. They let the Darkness out and now, she’s collecting the souls of mankind and growing stronger with each intake. Sam holds on to the hope that God is still here, that God is still watching and more importantly, that God still cares.

During the mid-season finale, Sam teams up with the King of Hell, Crowley, and his witch mother, Rowena, in a desperate move to call up Lucifer from the cage. Lucifer would know how God locked up the Darkness to begin with. Things obviously went wrong and Lucifer traps Sam in the cage with him. Rowena’s wards on the cage had worn off or something so Lucifer took Sam and wants to test out Sam’s meat suit – to possess him and walk the earth.

Sam still held on to the hope that God had a plan, that God was leading Sam to Lucifer’s cage, and that he was ready to do anything to save billions of lives, even to go back and stay in that cage forever. With Sam in the cage and Rowena’s wards no longer effective, Lucifer taunts Sam with the truth.

Lucifer: “Hey, Sam Winchester, you miss me? I bet you did.” [ Inhales deeply, exhales slowly ] “I have to say, you’re — you’re extraordinarily calm given the circumstances.”

Sam: “It’s pretty much exactly how God told me it was gonna be. Guess I just have to go with it and play my hand.”

Lucifer: [ Clicks tongue ] “And that would make so much sense if it was God that was doing the talking. You see, Sam, when the Darkness descended, the impact on Hell was massive. The cage was damaged. Through the fissures, I was able to reach out. It wasn’t God inside your head, Sam. It was me. So you see, he’s not with you. He’s never been with you. It was always just Me.”

I don’t know to how many people those words hit home. It hit real life. It hit our lives. “It wasn’t God inside your head. It was me. So you see, he’s not with you. He’s never been with you. It was always just me.” For me, those words summed up my entire life, even to today, and even to right now. It was never God inside my head. He’s not with me. He’s never been.

When I was incarcerated, I had a friend named Rachel. They took her mother to the segregated housing unit, the SHU, and every day at lunch, she would go jump on the the window sill to knock on the glass and talk to her mom. The first time was insane because she had to scream and figure out which cell her mom was in. And I worried she’d get caught and get thrown in there as well. So every day I would pray that she never got caught. Talking to people in the SHU wasn’t allowed. You get thrown in the SHU far away from whoever it was that you wanted to speak with. It was a spectacle at lunch every day for two weeks before they shipped her mom off and she never once got caught. And one day, I told her about how much I prayed that she wasn’t caught so she didn’t have to spend time in there. I told her that my prayers were answered because she never got into trouble for disobeying the rules. However, at the end of that conversation, I said to her that, “If all my prayers were answered the way I wanted them to be answered, then it may not have been God who answered them.” And I didn’t understand why I said that. I was always just a strange one. But it makes sense now. If all your prayers are always answered, it isn’t always God who is answering your prayers. And that’s exactly what Lucifer revealed to Sam.

I’m sitting here, alone in the dark, dog sitting my sister’s three dogs while she’s away for the weekend. I’m afraid of the dark. I’m terrified of dead things. And I have a strange phobia of zombies. It seems silly that I have so many fears, but I just finished watching a really bad movie on what I thought was going to be an exorcism. It was more or less, a botched production full of incredible actors. So am I still not afraid?

Fear comes and goes. I’ve really been with the dark for so long that I’m not even sure what I would be afraid of anymore. They’re just normal, every day things to me now. Sure, I can scare myself, think about something creepy hiding in a dark corner somewhere, but for the most part, I’m a bit beyond being afraid. It’s almost this strange familiarity, like family, and how you could have a horrific and violent family, but that part is irrelevant because it’s family.

Where is God?

I can’t speak for anyone else, but only for myself. I don’t have playtime with the dark and dark things because I actually like that kind of stuff or because I enjoy those kinds of things. It’s so easy to be wicked, to be mean and terrible to others, to plot evil and abuse everyone. Is that what I want, what I am? No. Somewhere, there’s a child that takes a step into the dark, unable to reach the light because they’re not tall enough, but walking forward and deeper into darkness, they can’t see anything behind them. Are their parents still right there following them? Why can’t a grown up just reach up and turn on the light? Why is it so dark? What’s the point of tripping over things in the darkness, of getting lost and scared and being lonely? Walk long enough, and eventually, you realize there’s no one behind you. No one following you. God is supposed to be everywhere. And still, He’s nowhere to be found.

Do you see me if I cut myself a hundred times? Can you hear me if I scream your name in your holy temple until my voice is gone? Will you see me if I cover your alter in the blood of your faithful followers? What can I do to get your attention? What can I do to have you take notice and answer me?

What are these feelings? All this destruction. Is it hatred? Is it malice? Is it anger? Is it jealousy? Is it vengeance? No. It’s pain. Pure and simple, it’s pain. People in pain. People wanting and hoping for something greater than themselves, and then coming to find out like Sam that there was never any hope. It didn’t exist. Sure, God exists, but He was never with us. He’s not with us. And that’s the saddest thing of all, to hope and see that that hope was nothing. That there was nothing.

 
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Posted by on December 12, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Eternal Life is Not a Gift. It is a Contract.

What is a gift?

If I gave a gift to someone, there are no strings attached, right? The meaning of a gift is that that person I’m giving it to, has done nothing to earn that gift. And they also have to do nothing in order to keep that gift. I don’t expect anything from them. I don’t expect them to be nice to me. I don’t expect them to have done something nice to me before hand. Gifts are like how we give things to strangers and part ways and forget about the good thing we’ve done. We’ll never meet them again, but we gave because we wanted to, not because they had something to offer us back.

Romans 6:23 KJV says:

“For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

I’m confused. How is eternal life a gift from God if we have to constantly be bound by rules and regulations and acts in order to retain that gift? It’s a contract, not a gift. A contract states that certain obligations have to be met in order for certain things to happen. What we’re really doing is signing a contract. We’re saying that we agree to God’s terms and we agree to live and abide by His word, and in return, we get the chance of living in heaven forever with him. It’s a chance because it’s not even a guarantee that we’ll end up in heaven. What we’re doing is signing a contract with God.

How is signing a contract the same as a gift? A gift is given with no strings attached. A gift is given primarily out of love. A contract is business. A contract is an agreement on terms of trade. A contract is not a gift. And eternal life is not a gift.Eternal life is a contract.

All in all, including all the obligations I’ve explained in an earlier post about how much stuff there is that goes into being saved that one has to do in order to be saved, you also have to give up your soul. I kind of glossed over that fact in my last post. The, “God owns your soul now and forevermore” part is part of that contract. Yep. You give up all rights to your soul. It’s even stated in the Bible what happens to your souls.

Jesus said that when people die and they go to heaven, they will be like the angels of heaven. And how are the angels of heaven, the ones that still live in heaven? Well, they play by daddy’s rules and they follow every one of daddy’s commands and essentially, they are daddy’s mindless drones that completes daddy’s tasks he sets for them. So in heaven, people will be exactly like the angels: mindless drones that do the bidding of God and his Christ.

Sounds fun, doesn’t it? I could be burning in hell or I could be a mindless drone in heaven. Which one would I rather be?

All in all, I am so lost and confused and maybe clarified on a lot of things, but the best choice I ever made to become a Christian suddenly doesn’t seem to be a good choice. And it hurts, this confusion and this pain. This annoyance with not knowing what the truth really is. Quite frankly, I don’t know if I’d trust the truth anymore if I did know it.

 
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Posted by on September 16, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Do We Automatically Go to Heaven if We’re Poor?

I’m not understanding this. I’m not understanding a lot of things lately. This faith thing has been rolling around in my head for a while now, enough to make me want to find out what the truth is. Do we automatically go to heaven if we’re poor? Apparently, that’s what the Bible is saying.

Take the story of the rich man and the poor man that Jesus tells in Luke 16:19-31, KJV.

19 There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day:
20 And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores,
21 And desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man’s table: moreover the dogs came and licked his sores.
22 And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom: the rich man also died, and was buried;
23 And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom.
24 And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame.
25 But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.
26 And beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed: so that they which would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us, that would come from thence.
27 Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that thou wouldest send him to my father’s house:
28 For I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment.
29 Abraham saith unto him, They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them.
30 And he said, Nay, father Abraham: but if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent.
31 And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.

There’s not enough information here to conclude anything except that Lazarus was poor and the rich man was rich. So being poor, I can only presume that Lazarus hoped for good things. And if we, being poor, hope for good things, are we guaranteed those good things after death like Lazarus? I’m confused. Does this mean that everyone who hoped for a savior, who hoped that someone would come save them from the miserable wretched life that they now live…will all those people go to heaven?

It is said that after Jesus Christ has died and risen, that we are to believe He is the savior. And if so, being that people long ago, hoping for someone to save them, who didn’t know of Jesus, but who hope anyways for salvation, if that hope is being counted for them as belief in Christ, our Savior, then why is it now that people who hope for a savior, can’t be saved if that savior isn’t Jesus? How is it that those people back then, who hoped to an invisible God, could be saved because that invisible God is automatically the Christian God, and yet, people have hoped and prayed and spoken in secret their heart’s wishes and desires and their worries and fears and that invisible God is automatically the wrong God?

My mother, who believes that heaven and hell doesn’t exist, and that if she is a good person, mainly good to others, then that makes her a good person regardless and that that goodness would be enough. There are many people who think the same way, that if we are kind and good in life and that if we treat others the way that we wanted to be treated, then our afterlives would be good because we are good. My mother isn’t buying her way into heaven. She doesn’t even believe in heaven. She simply believes that good begets good and bad begets bad. And isn’t that what we are taught in from the Bible? That a good tree will produce good fruits, but a wicked tree would produce bad fruit. So how is this any different from what the Bible does teach?

I’ve come to the realization that there is no salvation for one. Lazarus being poor and needy and having a hard life, was granted heaven in Abraham’s bosom. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because Lazarus believed in Jesus. It seemed more that Lazarus was of the lineage of Abraham, and that faith wasn’t mentioned at all as a prerequisite for his salvation. For it was mentioned that salvation belonged to the Jews, and only after Paul was sent to preach to the world, that salvation was given to the whole world because the Jews denied their God and did not want any part in his Christ. Was it then that the rest of us are only an after thought? While many Christians argue that God, all knowing, had included the rest of us in his plan, it’s not as convincing to everyone who doesn’t like the simple fact that they weren’t good enough to be a part of that plan to begin with.

Imagine it as a single parent family, as God being a father, who raising twenty kids, decides to favorite one, and love five. That favorite one, is Jesus. And those five, are the Jews. What happens to the other fourteen children? How do they feel when daddy makes them eat after the others, makes them walk behind the others, and essentially, tell them that they’re not good enough to get Christmas presents? But wait, because the other five children were so spoiled and so loved by daddy that they didn’t want their toys on Christmas, daddy gets mad and gives those toys to the rest of the little boys and little girls who didn’t get any to begin with. For children who was denied the same love and same treatment and same privilege as their siblings, those presents were everything to them. Daddy loves them. Daddy gave them gifts. And when they grew up, they realized, that if daddy hadn’t loved the others so much that when the others rebelled and didn’t want the presents with their names on it, then they would’ve never gotten anything from daddy at all. And how then do those fourteen children feel, all grown up with the truth that their daddy didn’t love them? Their daddy loved their siblings and because their siblings refused that love, only then, out of wrath and anger, and out of trying to make their siblings jealous, did their daddy finally showed them a bit of love. How does that make them feel good about themselves, about how it’s said that their daddy loves them so much that he did everything for them, when in truth, their daddy was just someone whose love was unrequited and in an act of anger, he only loved those he never loved in order to make the ones he did love, fill with jealousy and turn back to him? Those fourteen children would feel confused and angry and cheated and betrayed. Their daddy never loved them. He showed them love because he wanted to make their siblings jealous. How is that a good father? And how is it love when their daddy’s only intention was to make his chosen ones jealous? It sounds spiteful and horrible.

Paul has said that, salvation came to the Gentiles only because the Jews refused the free gift of eternal life by God. Romans 11:11 KJV said, and this is Paul speaking about the Jews:

I say then, Have they stumbled that they should fall? God forbid: but rather through their fall salvation is come unto the Gentiles, for to provoke them to jealousy.

“…for to provoke them to jealousy.”

The entire purpose of salvation for the Gentiles was to anger the Jews to jealousy.

Take a love relationship for example. Imagine it as a man who loves a woman and does her bidding and provides for her and takes care of every single need and desire she has. And when that woman starts rejecting that man and no longer wants his love and affection, and takes upon herself many other lovers, that man goes out and seeks a lover, anyone would do, in order to provoke her to jealousy that she may return to him. But what of his other lover? He doesn’t love her. He’s using her to make his love jealous so that she’d come home.

We are but an after thought in the mind of God to make the ones he loves jealous so that they’d return to him. How is that love at all? It’s not. It’s not love. Not one single minute of being mind raped and manipulated that we are indeed loved and precious.

If Lazarus, who being poor, wasn’t of the lineage of Abraham, and the rich man, being rich and plentiful, was of the lineage of Abraham, would this story have been told a different way? For there is no mention of faith. There is no mention of belief. There is only the mention that Lazarus was in Abraham’s bosom, an implication that Lazarus was of the line of Abraham. Does faith and belief even matter then? Or is the only thing that does matter is who we can trace our ancestors to?

Salvation itself isn’t for one. We can, as individuals, believe in Christ and accept Jesus as our savior. And we’re saved, right? Unfortunately, that’s not the case. It should be that simple for a free gift, but nothing is free without strings attached. In order to be saved, you have to believe that Jesus, who is God, was born a man, lived for 33 years, was crucified and died for your sins, was risen three days later, and is now sitting at the right hand of God until the day of his return. Now, you have to accept that Jesus died for your sins personally, because the wages of sin is death, and if Jesus died your death, then you won’t have to die a second death, which is odd because you have to die a mortal death anyhow. And after that, you have to get baptized and be reborn again. And after that, you have to go spread the good news and tell how Jesus has changed your life. And after telling people about Christ, you have to also try and convert them. And the ones that don’t want to listen, you simply ignore them and move on to people who do want to listen and who do want to be converted. And not only that, you must now try to be as much like Jesus as you can. That means compassionate and helping and performing miracles and exorcising demons and raising people from the dead, turning water into wine. Lots of works. So these souls that you’ve convinced and won for Jesus, they will be added to you as a crown. And as it says nothing about the people who didn’t convert a single soul getting a crown, it’s safe to imply that they won’t have crowns. So even in heaven, there’s this hierarchy of people who won souls and people who haven’t and they’ll be distinguished by the crowns that they’re wearing. Now, as if that isn’t a cause for discrimination in heaven, from a God to whom all sin is equal, then surely there should be no distinction in heaven between Jews and Gentiles, between those who has converted souls and those who barely converted themselves. Even the angels have rank, and believe that in heaven, everyone saved also will have rank. Again it will be, daddy loves who he loves the most.

I don’t know. I’m tired of thinking. I don’t want to think about this anymore.

 
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Posted by on September 14, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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The Queen of Heaven

In my dreams, there’s always a “queen of heaven”. Please note that all my dreams are horrific recurring nightmares. This has been a constant long before I accepted Christ. That’s not the point. The point is, in my awful and painful recurring nightmares, there’s a very evil and wicked woman who claims to be the queen of heaven.

Now, there’s hardly any logical thought in dreams and during lucid dreaming, there’s a slim chance that I am able to rationalize all the impossible things happening around me and to me as not being real. Pain, however, drives away all thoughts. When you’re being tortured in gruesome ways, your mind tends to disassociate. Everything stops and gets blocked out. You float a bit out of your dream body, much like you would in real life if that happened to you, and you become a spectator on the grotesque event happening to you.

I’m not strong so I run, as much as I can, which always happens to be in painfully slow motion. I’ve gone to extreme lengths to get away, inasmuch as harming myself to wake up. It’s a lucid dream so the knowledge that I’m dreaming is there, although the fear is overwhelming to the point of panic. It’s like being a caged animal. Your senses are cranked on ultra sensitivity alert. Adrenaline pumps through your veins like steroids. You’re simply just frantic and mad, doing anything and everything to get out, to wake up, to leave.

This queen of heaven watches in amusement because she haunts me and tortures me and knows that I must sleep some time, some day. I avoid her as much as I can. I avoid even the thought of her. In my dreams, all the churches are corrupted. There’s a blue book, a bible, dedicated to the queen of heaven. Churches are filled with more demons and monsters than actual people, of which I’ve never seen a real Christian in my dreams, ever.

Because of the nature of my dreams, I used to roam occult sites looking for answers. I wasn’t a Christian. I avoided Christianity. God didn’t help the nightmares. Demons in my dreams found the name Jesus to be funny. And they’d torture me more for foolishly believing that anyone or anything could help me.

New age. Metaphysical. Pagan. Occult. Kabbalah. Catholic. It’s all the same thing wrapped up in a pretty bow.

I used to not sleep out of fear. I’d stay awake with as many creepy things haunting my waking moments as they do when I’m asleep. I’m afraid of the dark for a reason. I’m afraid to be alone for a reason. I was conditioned to fear.

I pushed it all aside. Disassociated it. Pretended that it doesn’t happen. Pretended that I am safe. If I continued pretending enough, then it fades. It trickles slowly into the background, like a camera which focuses on one thing and blurs everything else out until it’s no longer there. That was the solution to my waking life, in order to have any semblance of a normal life, I disassociated the trauma, the fear, and the supernatural elsewhere. I don’t even know where now. But what about my dreams? That’s something I haven’t been able to figure out or fix yet.

I’ve come to the realization that evil exists in this world in an overwhelming capacity. Wickedness works in high places and infiltrates even into our own houses. Yep. It’s right under our noses, staring us in the face.

One of the groups I’m in on Facebook deals with magic. Their goddess is the most terrifying creepy woman ever. “Draw this sigil. Invite her into your dreams. She’s scary at first, but she gives you power and she’ll help.”

What? She’s frightening, but she’s really a cuddly teddy bear?

I never tried it. I have too many creepy women running around in my dreams already, I didn’t need another one with the thoughts of others feeding into some entity that would invade my already unbearable dreams. Who does that? I already instinctively flee from some queen of heaven creature. I didn’t need a queen of the webs to trap me in her webs. How do you even trust something that wants to kill you? It’s insanity.

For fame? For power? For the ability to say that you know magic and nothing can harm you? I don’t understand how people would enslave themselves to entities and demons and such when I’m trying to break free. Nothing, no amount of wealth or power or control would ever make me want to be a part of that or of any other like that. I am human. I will die. And so will the most powerful and the wealthiest person alive on this earth. We are mortals and we will die. And I will at least not die a slave to a beast.

The world is corrupted and corruption is right in our faces, taunting our inability to see it and to understand it.

I find it interesting that people don’t believe in the Bible. They don’t believe in God or in Jesus. Yet, they surely do know all the symbols of the devil. Wake up. All these symbols, all these gestures, all these horns and goats’ heads are not pop culture. They are not what’s cool right now. There’s an agenda behind everything. These images, these references, all these things desensitize people to evil, to the devil, to what’s bad and what’s wrong. It prepares people to be accepting of a master who requires terrifying you, humiliating you, and stripping down every last bit of humanity in you in order to make you a vessel for his own people, for demons.

People of every other religion but Christianity, and many who claim to be Christians, are using demonic symbols and gestures. But why? Surely they don’t believe in the devil because he’s a made up part of a made up religion called Christianity, right?

It boggles my mind, the sheer volume of misinformation and deception people allow themselves to believe, the ignorance of generations too entitled to freedom to realize they’re all slaves.

To see the world for what it is, to see the truth for what it is, maybe it’s so evil and corrupted that people have to disassociate themselves from it like I have to do with my dreams.

God is not a woman. God is not transgender. There is no queen of heaven. People can argue immortal gender issues all they want, as if they should know because they’ve got the inside scoop from so called experts and scientists and whomever or they’re really an immortal or whatever, but that’s the truth and it isn’t going to change. People, in their ignorance, helps to accomplish the agendas of those seeking to control and eliminate you. The world is full of wickedness. Learn the truth and wake up. I need to wake up again and stay awake.

 
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Posted by on July 8, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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My Thoughts on Christianity, Homosexuality, and Marriage Equality

This is a conundrum.

I am only speaking from my opinion, my perspective, so anything I say shouldn’t be correlated to any group of people nor should my words be representative of any group of people. This is all just me. With that said, I’ll start.

I’m a Christian. I believe homosexuality is a sin. I support marriage equality for all human beings.

Many people automatically think, “oh, she’s a Christian so she is against gay marriage”. It’s a false misconception. The misconception occurs because Christianity is based on the teachings of the Bible and the Bible clearly states wrong things that we as followers, aren’t supposed to do or aren’t supposed to take part in. It’s a conflict of belief and personal preferences.

How can I be a Christian, believe homosexuality is a sin, and still support gay marriage?

The thing about Christianity is that calling someone a sinner isn’t an insult. It’s an accepted belief that everyone is a sinner. We’ve all done wrong things. It’s normal to be a sinner because no one is perfect. It’s like saying, “you have blood” or “there’s a brain in your head”. Being a sinner isn’t a degrading and insulting thing. Rather, it acknowledges that we’re imperfect beings that need a Savior.

People often forget that homosexuality isn’t the only sexual sin in the Bible. There’s seven, one of which I truly have forgotten by now so I’ll just leave unnamed. Surprisingly, it isn’t masturbation. Masturbation isn’t a sexual sin. There’s adultery, fornication, prostitution, homosexuality, incest, and beastiality. Adultery is sex outside of marriage. Fornication is sex before marriage. Prostitution is sex for money. Homosexuality is sex with the same sex. Incest is sex within the immediate family. And beastiality is sex with animals.

People have often said to me, “how can you be so against love? It says don’t eat shellfish and pigs in the Bible and people do that. How do you just pick and choose what you want when it’s convenient for you?”

The people who ask these questions are often defensive. That means one big thing: they’re not listening to me. Regardless of what I say, all they hear is, “she’s a Christian and a hypocrite and a bigot and against gay marriage.” If I say I’m not against gay marriage, the words totally fly over their heads because they’re not listening. They’re angry and upset and on the defense.

It’s a common misconception to anyone who doesn’t understand the Bible that sexual sins doesn’t equal food regulations. It’s a hard concept for many to grasp because it does state that Jews weren’t allowed to eat shellfish and pigs and fish without scales and things that were named unclean. It was meant to keep them from doing wrong. People around them were eating all these things that they couldn’t eat. If they ate them, then they’d also hang out more with the people around them, get married to the people who lived around them, and eventually, turn away from God by worshiping other gods of the people around them. The laws were in place so the Jewish people could keep themselves separated from the people around them.

In the new Testament, when Paul was recruiting Romans and everyone else not Jewish, it was said that for the people who understood that it isn’t what goes into your body that defiles you (makes you unclean), then they could bless whatever food was put before them and eat. To those who were a bit weaker of faith and who saw that eating such foods might in some way defile them, then for them not to eat. Jesus himself said that it wasn’t what went into our bodies that defiled us because it goes in through our mouths and out the other end and cast away into nothingness. But it’s the things that come from our mouths (words and blessings and curses) that defile us because they come from the heart, for out of the heart comes evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, and blasphemies.

Sexual sins are very different from eating foods. Sex serves for two purposes: procreation and reproduction, and the joining of two into one flesh. We all know about the having babies part, but when two people become one, it’s a very different thing (spiritually speaking). It can be dangerous because people are vessels. Vessels for God and vessels for other things. Spirits can inhabit people and not in the way you see on tv and not by those kinds of possessions. Most people walk around with spirits attached to them and they don’t know it.These spirits can transfer from one person to the next. This occurs by touch. In reference to sexual sins, it’s like spiritually sexually transmitted diseases. You probably don’t know you have it and you’ll probably never show up with any of the symptoms, but you’ve been infested and invaded.

While people often associate homosexuality to being the only sexual sin, they’re very wrong. Adultery, a sexual sin, cannot occur without marriage. I totally support marriage for heterosexual couples. And in a way, that supports the presence of adultery. Without marriage, adultery wouldn’t exist. Marriage in itself is really to stop people from sinning so much. Marriage is a barrier to sexual sins because it allows two people to safely have sex inside a marriage and to have a healthy relationship because of marriage.

I’m a firm believer in marriage equality and equal rights for all people regardless of race, sex, religion, color, sexual orientation, etc, etc. I am also a very stubborn and outspoken person about things I am passionate about. I am a huge supporter of freedom because no one is going to tell me what I can and cannot do and what I can and cannot say. I do not like mass control. Not allowing gays the right to marriage or to tax breaks or to adoptions is a form of controlling the masses. It’s a form of religious control in a world where there is a supposed freedom of religion because people are imposing their beliefs and ideas of marriage upon others. It’s a form of oppression because as human beings, gays should have every right that any other person is allowed. That means freedom from hatred and violence. I also see this a lot with race and color. It’s sad that individuals want to dictate whether a person lives or dies based on their skin color or their ethnicity. No one has the right to take a life, not even their own life, in my opinion.

I’m a firm believer in letting people learn on their own. We all do bad things. Murder. Adulteries. Thefts, Fornications. False Witnesses. Blasphemies. Evil thoughts. Etc, etc. While one wrong may be judged more harshly according to the laws of man, God sees all sins as being the same. Rebellion is the same as witchcraft. Stubborness is equated to iniquity (not doing what God specifically says to do) and also to idolatry (worshiping other gods). Who would’ve ever thought that stubborness was a sin? Well, here it is, a sin. So while we’re sitting here judging homosexuals for their sins and trying to prevent them from equal rights, we ourselves are all at fault of something. No one is preventing us from getting married so why should we feel a right or an entitlement to imposing our beliefs upon others and prevent them from marriage and equal rights? It’s wrong. It’s very hypocritical and unjust.

I try very hard not to judge others for their wrong doings. I am no better than they are. I’m actually much, much worse then any one of them. I’m a firm believer in letting God decide what is right and what is wrong. My human intelligence is limited. I have no omniscience. Good and bad to me are simply words, words that changes meaning with popular culture and whatever is the in thing to do. There are many things that I think is wrong although no one else seems to have a problem with it, and many things I think is right although no one else seems to agree with me on it. Therefore, I leave people in God’s hands. Mine are not capable enough to deal with someone so precious as a life. I would mess it up. I would totally screw it all up and mess it up bad. So for all the things I don’t know and I don’t understand, I let God handle it.

Love isn’t always an easy thing. It’s not always happy and blissful. It’s harsh at times. It’s punishing at other times. It’s suffering many times over. But love is the most beautiful thing there is. It may be difficult at times, but it is encouraging and uplifting and good and hopeful. I do not understand how oppression, corruption, control, and abuse is in any way a form of love, even a form of tough love.It’s not. How can we show love with so much hatred? How can we show love with so much violence? How do we even demand that someone else cannot have the same rights as ourselves? Love isn’t taught through war. Love isn’t taught through hate. Love is compassion and kindness. Love is patience and joy.

I’m tired and I’m off to bed. I wish for world peace. Let’s all be at peace with one another.
 
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Posted by on April 29, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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