Jesus Is Still Breaking Chains

Tonight, I was praying and I received a vision from the Holy Spirit. What I saw was of great help and importance to me. I only pray that it reaches someone else who needs to hear it.

In the vision, I saw a little girl so bound in chains that she could not move. She was lying on the ground amidst a storm. Lightning and rain surrounded her. She was crying so hard that she could not call out for help, but Jesus heard her anyway. Jesus came and with one touch, the chains fell away. Jesus picked up the little girl and held her. He asked if she wanted the storm to stop. Still unable to speak, she simply nodded. Jesus held up His hand and only spoke one word, “Cease.” The storm obeyed. The little girl was still crying so hard she couldn’t speak; however, the tears were no longer ones of sadness. They were of pure joy and gratitude.

In this vision, I saw a lot of myself in the little girl. I saw someone who was bound by chains that were placed there by other people. The little girl had no power to free herself. None of us do. We like to think we do with all of our self-help books and medication to keep away depression, etc. (disclaimer, I am not against self-help books if they are used with prayer and guidance from God. I am also not against medication for mental illnesses such as depression. I know that in some cases it is needed. In others, they just need Jesus.) We need Jesus. We need Jesus to carry on with this life. Unless Jesus has set you free, you are the little girl I saw. You are bound. What is so sad is that the enemy has so many people deceived into believing that they do not need someone to set them free. They do not realize that they are bound at all. It breaks my heart. It really does. We need Jesus.

Dear Heavenly Father,

I pray right now for whoever is reading this post. Daddy, I pray that you touch them and their chains fall. I ask that you reach out to the person reading this and let them know that they are loved beyond measure. Daddy, let them know that Jesus has already won the battle against the enemy. Christians fight from victory, not towards it. Daddy, I thank you for the fact that we do not have to go through life alone. As Billy Graham said “You’re born. You suffer. You die. Fortunately, there is a loophole.” Daddy, I thank you for sending Your Son to become that loophole. Daddy, if the person reading this does not know You, I pray that they come to know You, Lord, that they come to know the freedom that only You can give.

To You I give all the glory. I love You.



Child Abuse In it’s Entirety

I find that it is time that I jump on this bandwagon. Child abuse is a subject that has changed greatly over the years. Child abuse used to be something no one talked about. People turned a blind eye to child that were being beaten. Child abuse was not recognized as being wrong. Because it was not viewed as being wrong, those who had suffered such abuse were left attempting to deal with the silent pain of their past alone. I am thankful it is not entirely that way today. However, I do see many flaws with the system.

Children who are abused are told constantly that they are not good enough. In nearly everything they do, they can never do it to their abuser’s satisfaction. The child is left constantly wondering what is wrong with them. Why nothing they do is ever good enough. Now, there are many different types of abuse, but most end with the child feeling lowly and insufficient. The scars that are formed in those early years of child abuse are ones that do not go away easily. They are there. They are there forever. For the victims of child abuse, those scars shape the adults abused children grow into. Some become abusers themselves for the very simple reason that abuse was all the child knew. Some victims become strong adamant survivors with nothing more than a wish to protect other children. Others are so intent on not becoming like their abuser that they are left constantly reliving the abuse. But what child abuse victims are really missing is love. True blown love. They are shown love in all the wrong ways. Especially those who were sexually abused as a child. They learn that sex is how you show someone you love them. Those who were abused in other ways are taught that they must do exactly as they are told in order to show their abuser that they love them. Because they are taught love in this manner, they are often left to be abused by others when they are older. Simply because it is what they know.

Child abuse is a terrible crime. It is a crime that scars a child severely. Perpetrators should be punished greatly because of what they did to harm a child. However, the sad truth is that many times, the child does not disclose what is going on. To them, the abuse is normal. In their little minds, the abuse that they endure happens in every home. They are unaware that what is happening to them is wrong. I believe the school system, churches, social media, anything, should teach children that abuse is wrong. Flat out wrong. And even if the child knows what is going on at home is wrong, they must know that they can disclose what is happened to an adult. That help is there if they need. Children are fragile. They have no way of understanding what is happening to them. As stated before, they believe that abuse is love when it truly is not.

There is one particular issue about child abuse I do wish to address, and it is probably in most humans eyes as the worst form of abuse. That is sexual abuse. I know that it is a very sensitive subject for any who have experienced it, but I do believe it needs to be talked about. I remember as a little girl a group of people coming to my school and talking about where an adult is not allowed to touch you. However, they discussed this thought as though only a stranger isn’t allowed to touch you in your private areas. What they didn’t say is that parents, or close friends of parents, or family members are not allowed to touch you sexually either. However, what is so terribly sad is that usually it is those people who sexually abuse a child. It is those who are in close contact. It is rarely a stranger. Sometimes it’s a brother, a father, a step-parent, or even a mother or sister. Yes, females can sexually abuse as well. Children need to understand that family should not take advantage of the innocence of a small child. That no one should take advantage of them.

I will end this post with an address to those who have been abused in some form or fashion. The. Abuse. Is. Not. Your. Fault. You were a child who was unaware that was done to you was wrong. If you were sexually abused, you are not dirty. If you were physically abused, you should not have been punished so severely. If you were emotionally abused, you are not insufficient. You are strong. You are a survivor. I know you were not taught love like you should have been; however, there is a love that can heal the pain you endured. It is the love of JESUS CHRIST. I cannot stress how important it is that you see and understand that. JESUS died on the cross so that you can be loved. So that you can be healed. I know healing does not seem possible. However, I tell you that it is. Healing is beyond possible. And there is a blessing for the pain you have suffered. Because you have suffered greatly as a child, you will be able to see the beauty of peace that others may not experience. Once you experience the healing of GOD, you will have a testimony of HIM beyond any measure. To those who have been abused, I am praying for you. I am praying that you find JESUS and learn of a love that will never fail you. No matter what. no fear in love

Knowing When to Walk Away/Knowing When to Let GOD Work

I came home this summer with the intent to mend old broken relationships. Here it is now, a mere month away before returning back to the place I dearly love. I feel as though I have not accomplished one darn thing that I set out to do. I haven’t mended those broken relationships. I haven’t shown the people that share parts of my DNA that I love them. I wanted to help my mother on the farm. I wanted to treat her with complete respect as I have tried to do my entire childhood…yet again, I have found myself wondering why I set out on a mission I have tried to do countless times and have continually failed. Continually, I have I have been hurt and degraded, loved and hated. This summer, I again found myself hanging my head in defeat.

But I really have not been defeated. I have done what I can to help my family, but ultimately, it is up to them to accept that what I have done is truly my best. I can’t make that decision for them. I can’t make them see that I am not perfect. I can’t make them love me in return. Because of my very limited human abilities, I am unable to make them see things that they do not know.

What is that supposed to mean? I can’t make them see things that they do not know?
My family (for the most part) does not know JESUS. Now, before I go further, I will explain something. I live in the Bible Belt of America. Does that mean that everyone I know are Christians? By no means it does not. The only thing that living in the Bible Belt means is that nearly everyone goes to church, but few (just like every where else in the world) actually know and love the LORD with all their heart. My family goes to church. I grew up in church, but church was only a place you went on Sunday. It was viewed like going to work. You had to go, or the entire town would be gossiping about you and your “unfaithfullness.” GOD spoke to my heart when I was seventeen, and I became HIS. Because of this, I eventually saw the error in the ways of which I was raised.

Love is derived from JESUS. Christians possess the ability to love love others because JESUS loved us first. It is because of this that my family cannot truly feel the love that I am trying so hard to show them. I am praying for them constantly. I cannot bear to see them hurting as they are. I know from experience that only GOD can take such hurts. Only HE can heal the hearts and minds of those that have been greatly hurt. I pray that my family finally knows the love that I do. That they become GOD’s too.

Freshmen Year, It’s Over

As I am sitting here, I am thinking of what a glorious year I have had. I’ve made friends, grown into a completely different person, shown off my country ways, and did countless hours of homework. This has honestly been the best year of my life. Yes, it has had it’s downs, but the pleasantries have greatly outnumbered the tears I’ve cried.

I’m also thinking about how much I would love to stay in Berea this summer. Maybe visit home for a week or two, but then head back here, where I truly belong. However, GOD has called back to the last where I have grown up, to be a light in the darkness of my past. GOD wants me to heal old relationships. That is something I know that I will not be able to do without his help. It is hard for me to dig open wounds that happened so long ago, but it needs done. It needs done because one never knows when they will be taken from this earth. Heck, some odd act of nature could take me out right now. Who knows? Only GOD does.

I have never been at home where I am from. I never felt like I belonged there. I’m too different from my family. It doesn’t seem like it will be a good summer, but sitting here mulling over how much I hate where I come from is not going to do anything for me. It isn’t going to fix things. What is going to fix things is my own determination, and the strength that I derive from GOD. GOD is the solid rock I stand when all other ground is sinking sand…..that is so true. SO very very very true. When life has become such a state of “This is it,” GOD is right there, letting you stand on HIM when you can’t stand anywhere else.

GOD is so good, so pure. I know that no matter where I am, GOD will always be there for me. Always. HE has already blessed me, and I know that HE will continue to.

Birthday Blessings

It has been just that, a very blessed birthday. GOD has shown me exactly how much people care about me here in Berea, and I have loved every minute of it. I had four different cakes that were baked/bought for me, multiple presents, and good fellowship with the people that love me here in Berea. I’ve learned to expect that nothing good will come out of a birthday, not for me at least. Usually, it was just a bunch of broken promises that would cut deeper into my already wounded heart. But not this year. No, not this year. This year I was showered with love. It wasn’t truly about the cakes or the presents, it was about the extensive thought that was put in behind it. It was about the love that was put behind everything that was done for me. I can’t believe this actually happened. It was love. Pure love. GOD has shown me so much while I’ve been attending school in Berea. Something different…’s something different. 

Love is an interesting feeling, and one I’ve never truly experienced until I came to Berea. I mean I’ve experienced the love of GOD, but never the love from other people outside of my adoptive family. It’s something different not to have to depend on yourself, to know that if you need help, someone will help you. It is truly different to be able to know that you are loved. That no matter what kind of day you are having, your friends are still there for you. It’s different, but it is a good different. A different which allows you to be filled, to be satisfied. I am so blessed. 

Berea, You’ve Done It Again

GOD is really doing something with my life here in Berea. HE is teaching me so much through the people I have met. There is not a doubt in my mind that I am where I belong. Otherwise, how else would I be learning so much. HE has put people in my life to show me that the way I grew up is not the way of the world…and to me, that is just what I needed from this world. All this started with a causal conversion. If anyone knows me, they know that I tend to dwell on conversions long after they have ended. I suppose I should actually voice my dwellings, but I usually don’t, unless I have come to some realization. Then, I blog about it. 

My birthday is Thursday. I haven’t celebrated my birthday since I was eleven years old. There is a reason for that…but it isn’t one that I am willing to make public. At least not yet. I’ll just say, my mother was a hard woman. Tonight at Refit, a woman who has really become a true friend, I’ll call her Jane (yes, the same Jane from a previous post), approached me and asked what I was doing for my birthday. Unaware of my actual ability to run my own life, I hadn’t made plans. I’ve honestly almost become agnostic when it comes to my birthday. I say almost because I have always had this longing that my mom would actually recognize my birthday, but she never did. The good LORD really offered healing tonight from that aspect of my life. HE sent a friend to casually ask what I was doing and when I hadn’t made plans, she stated that she will try to work out me coming over for soup beans. Let me tell you, Jane’s soup beans are better than my momma’s. Even if something random happens and this doesn’t happen, she at least acknowledged it. She showed she cared. That right there, means more to me than anyone will ever know. She cared. She cared enough to ask, and to make plans when I had none. Berea, you’ve done it again. You’ve shown me that the world truly is not like the environment in which I grew up


Since my best friend passed, many people have approached me, asked me how I was doing, then proceeded to tell me exactly how grief worked……or how it worked for them. I suppose that people think that, since I am so young, I do not know anything about grief. This is false…..I know quite a bit about grief. Losing my friend isn’t my first round on the grief rodeo. I’ve lost my father when I was two. Three of my grandparents were dead before I was born. I lost my last grandparent when I was six. I also lost my oldest brother to a similar car accident that I lost my friend the same year I lost my brother. No, this isn’t my first ride on the grief rodeo, and I am certain it won’t be my last.

Here is what I came to post, never, I say NEVER tell someone you know how they are feeling because you don’t. You can’t. Yes, maybe you have lost someone as well, but two people are never the same. The way one person experiences grief is not the same as another. For all you people, you don’t know. Please stop saying you do. I understand that you are just trying to help in the only way you know how…but it really isn’t helping. Not me anyway. It doesn’t help me anyway. What does help is having people listen to me. Listen to when I am pouring out my heart. Listen to my many memories with Cole, or just let me vocalize how much I really miss her. That helps. Just having someone listen helps. No, they can’t make the pain go away, but they can at least hold me while I cry. That just means so much. 

A Short-Letter of Love …

montague county moments

 As a person who has a natural affection for people , and a deep-seated belief in Biblical truth , I feel an urgent duty to share with you these my inward most thoughts and beliefs .

 Soon, when a charismatic figure appears on the world stage , striving to broker a peace deal between Israel and the surrounding Middle Eastern nations in the interest of One World Government , pay attention !

   If he appears to have miraculous powers of persuasion and international influence , be aware .

  All is not as it may seem to a world of non-believers …The first figure to appear claiming to be the salvation of the world , is Biblically prophesied as the ” Anti-Christ “.. His second in command, the False Prophet , will promote  ” One World Religion ” .  Millions will be deceived by this dastardly duo . Even the elect ..


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Overcoming Loss Part Two: Learning to “Move On”

I miss her. I miss my best friend. That age old saying “You never know what you have til it’s gone” is so true. More true than I wish it to be. In a post entitled, “Friendship” I stated I never had a best friend…..well, after I received the news of Mary Cole’s death, I realized that I did have a best friend. It was one of those friendships where we could go months without speaking to one another, but just pick up exactly where we left off when we could get together. Yeah, there were times we couldn’t stand one another, but I suppose everyone has those days. Looking back, I see how much we had. She was my best friend. The girl who taught me so much about life….the girl who taught me it was ok to be myself, that I didn’t have to be whoever everyone wanted me to be. That’s what best friends do. They support each other…and love one another even if they are miles apart….

That is exactly what Cole did, but through the glories of social media. Whenever I would post something, I could almost guarantee she would comment, and I could almost guess what she would say……that was how she showed she still loved me. I miss my Cole. She was a little firecracker, and she is being missed by so many…..but that doesn’t make it easier for me. I wish so much that she was still here……I want my best friend back…but I can’t have her, least not in this life.

This is where I am learning to move on, to continue living even without my best friend. She is not really gone. The memories we shared still live inside my heart. I see her in everything I do. I see her dancing when I am listening to music. I hear her laughing when I stumble walking to class (I am a clutz and she never let me forget it). I see her with everything I do. I cry at night because I miss her. People tell me I am being so strong……but I feel so weak inside….only GOD knows how much pain is there. HE is the only one I completely confide in. I don’t want to be a bother to others, so I cry my tears in his arms. HE loves me and will never die. HE is the strength that I draw from when I cannot stand any longer. I am bound set and determined that Cole’s memory will not die. If no one else does, I will remember. 

Overcoming Loss Part One

Last Monday, I was notified that my best friend for seven years was killed in a car accident. My heart was crushed. Completely crushed. I always figured I would get the call informing me of my mother’s death. I know that sounds really brutal, but I am the type of person that likes to prepare for the worst. However, I don’t think any amount of “preparing” would have prepared my heart for the news I received last Monday. Nothing. My friend was twenty years old. After years of trying, she had finally got her life together and she was heading places. She was going to graduate from the community college in May with a associates degree in Psychology. She would have started going to Radford in the fall. Over the summer, she was going to Illinois for an internship at a horse barn riding reigning horses. I remember when she told me about it; she was so excited, and I was excited for her, eager to hear all her stories when she got home……….but that isn’t happening now I suppose. She is gone.

Earlier I stated that Mary Cole was my best friend, but she was really more than that. She was more than my sister. She was my twin. Heck, there was even times we believed we shared that whole twin telepathy thing. For example, we were at a horse show and Cole was cleaning her tack; we both began singing the same song at the same time. There was not a radio playing. Just us two singing. We told everyone about this, but unfortunately, no one believed us because no one witnessed it. But I promise you, my dear reader, it did happen. We had that type of friendship were we could just look at one another and know what the other was thinking.

…………….I just can’t believe she is gone. I never would have thought I would have buried my twin when she was twenty years old……we had plans to grow old and be those crazy old people that no one can stand together……..even our children would have disowned us when we were together……….That was what we were going to do. We were never going to lose touch. We were……Best……Friends…..Forever……