Monday, November 20, 2017

A Deadline Looming

Pss. 95:1-2 “O come, let us sing unto the Lord: let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms.”

Deadline Looming

You might be wondering how I hold back the fear from creeping into my days and nights. You might also wonder how I can prove that fear doesn’t rule my being. Well for one, would I be able to sleep for eight hours a night if fear was leading me into bed? Would I be a happy-go-lucky face the day kind of gal if I allowed fear to run my days? That’s my proof right there and all the proof I need.

A year and a half. That’s what the oncologist gave me. His exact words were, “I give you about a year and a half to live without chemo.” I don’t know if that’s the type of fear he instills in all of his patients to get them to submit to slice, dice, drugs, and radiation, but in my eyes, it is a brutal fear tactic that wasn’t working on me.

Sure I wanted to crawl in a box and hide, never to be seen again but that was just my way of accepting this diagnosis, knowing full well I was not committing to what TWO oncologists wanted for me. The first oncologist pressed on my tumor and lymph nodes so hard, tears came to my eyes. It was a most painful exam. I had the bruises to prove that it was not a normal way of examining a person but when I complained I heard the ‘pffft’ sound as if my pain was being waved off.

The second oncologist spoke ill of my first oncologist saying, “she’s not right in the head.” This showed me that the only two oncologists in my area were vying for the money and would take great measures to work against one another. I don’t know if that is normal but I do know that BOTH were supposed to be working for ME, not the other way around. 

I set out on my adventure with just a canteen full of water and a backpack. The doctor’s and I had a parting of the ways since they felt I was killing myself and I thought they wanted to kill me, instead of helping me. That’s what it feels like out here in the middle of nowhere like my Lord and me are climbing a mountain alone. All I have is natural water from the stream and the fruits of the earth surrounding me on my journey. I’ve been climbing, step by step to get to the summit, the summit where I’ll declare I’m healed of this dastardly disease.

July 2018 is looming in the shadows, which is the year and a half mark, the mark that I’m still alive and thriving in LIFE. While I’ve lived my life grateful for every twist, every turn, every up and every down, this year is the one I’m most grateful for. I’ve had the chance to see who my true friends and family are that really care, I’ve had the luxury of losing weight that I didn’t even know I needed to lose! I’ve had the wake-up call of a lifetime and am being granted the opportunity to CHANGE! 

We wake up every day with a sunrise and a chance to change our lives. Some choose not to change, some choose to stay the same but will whine and complain consistently, some will wake and want to change but don’t know where to begin. I say have HOPE! There is hope in every aspect of life and if you can’t, won’t or don’t embrace HOPE, you are not embracing life or the chance to change for the better.

When the oncologist gave me a year and a half to live, I gave myself HOPE that only God gets to decide when I live or die. There are many people who choose to guide their own life, make their own decisions on which way to go. Me, I let God decide for me what path I take to reach the summit.

Many people walk in fear. When a doctor gives them an ultimatum, they have no choice but to believe what they say because they were raised to believe that the doctor would never lead them astray. As I watch with eyes wide open at an addicted and overweight nation, I pretty much can see that the doctors have led these people to slaughter. The doctor is choosing when the people will die and that is the bottom line. They hold lives in their hands and I’m not seeing a rise in success stories, I’m seeing a rise in deaths. 

I sometimes amaze myself with which the stamina I have in every waking day. I never wake and think of what can go wrong in the course of a day; I rise, put a few coals on the fire and face the seconds wrapped in the warmth of my Lord knowing each moment will be a day of gratefulness in living. I never allow fear to hold the reins of my life. 

When I view my life, I see black and white, pages and pages of paper with words on them filling in my life story. When I glance out at the world, I see a stack of blank pages. People are blank papers with no story, no gratitude, no life worth writing save for but a few.

I realized something yesterday as we were shopping for our Thanksgiving Day meal; there were stacks of blank pages all blowing in the wind as if a high-powered fan blew them into existence. People not concerned for the person in front of them or behind them, they were more concerned with what was in the palm of their hand, a technological tool that steals their soul and leaves them empty.

I came home from the store to find the gratitude I woke with. I have food, delicious earth formed food right at my fingertips. I have love and hope for every waking day. I’m thriving putting words to paper and living each day to what I deem worthy of ME! While the technology of my life may sit in the backseat for the next seven months, I’ll be driving the healing home where it belongs, thriving in me! This Thanksgiving I will celebrate being alive and eternally grateful for the chance to CHANGE all that has gone wrong inside of me and to face any fear by throwing hot coffee in its face! Take THAT! 

Pss. 23:4-6 “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.”


Friday, November 17, 2017

The Holidays Approach

Job 22:21 “Acquaint now thyself with him, and be at peace: thereby good shall come unto thee.”

The Holidays Approach

I can hear the kitchen utensils clanging, I can envision the family get-togethers, I can almost inhale the food cooking in the ovens across America as we hurriedly prepare the holiday feast for the family. Yes, many prepare a week in advance!

As much as we’re a nation addicted to Big Pharma drugs we’re also an overweight nation addicted to food. As the holiday nears, this is the season where people overeat without guilt. They stuff their faces in the name of ‘it was there’ and as Christmas strolls around the twenty added pounds are already seen in the tighter belt and jeans. The guilt won’t be felt until January first when people make a haphazardly New Year resolution to lose all that was gained setting themselves up for a letdown when they fail.

I am one week away from my eleven-month mark. It’s the time of the month I mark another successful notch in my belt and sticking to my protocol that changed the shape, literally, of my future. The holidays will be more challenging than all eleven months together have been. It will be where his mom pushes ham balls and fudge brownies in his face for his upcoming birthday, and where the family gets together to celebrate the Christmas day meal. 

Since they put a halt to exchanging gifts, that is all Christmas day is anymore, a day of food and family gathering. It’s not like we haven’t spent MANY occasions with the family this year (funeral, wedding, visits) So, the only reason I see celebrating Christmas this year is that I’m alive! And I am ever so grateful for having been allowed these eleven months to change me! I have a lifetime of gratitude, to confine my gratefulness to thirty-days seems menial to me after finding I have a disease that would’ve shattered many.

Please don’t rag on me how December 25th is Jesus’ birthday and a just cause to celebrate the day. Christmas is a pagan holiday set in stone by man. Factually, Jesus’ birthday has been somewhat proven that it didn’t take place in December and hence the reason I don’t celebrate Christmas as Jesus’ birthday. It’s a day not much unlike Thanksgiving, a day of family, food, and gratitude. To each his own. 

While I see my husband trying to change also with his toxic soda consumption, and him wanting to take his own vitamin supplements, we as a family here are embracing change; that is until the family get-together. My hubby will be weak against the wiles of his family as they intimidate him with delicious food. I can’t expect him to be as strong as I am and seriously, I don’t think there are many people who could hold out on sugar consumption (among other things) for eleven months. I’ve been quite impressed with my willpower this year. Where was I hiding all of these years?

I will need all of my armor to face these next thirty-five days and beyond. Instead of stressing over the visit with family, I’m preparing what meal I will take with me on Christmas day like a mega salad with all the fixins and I’m sure the hosts will understand that I had to bring my own dish if they want us there. I’m also preparing what I’ll make for the carnivores of my family and for me on Thanksgiving! I’ll have a rainbow of vegetables and they’ll have meat and potatoes, easy peasy.

I might even try to attempt a modified pumpkin pie with coconut milk and stevia. My only cheat of the year just might be the flour crust. I won’t have the added cool-whip but there is no reason the guys can’t, that’s if they even attempt to eat a modified pie.

Another challenge I’ll face is having a stress free holiday. I sometimes let the smallest of things bother me but this year I am selfishly focusing on ME and my continued healing, in this scenario there is no room for stress. As the month unfolds there seems to be a lot of stress-less events taking place already; it’s as if God knows me so well he’s already set in place the good things that need to happen to keep me stress-free. I’ll elaborate at a later date but for now…I’m off to have me a screen less stress-free day! 

God bless one and all! 

Pss. 4:8 “I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.”

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Fight the Good Fight

1 Tim. 6:12 “Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, whereunto thou art also 
called, and hast professed a good profession before many witnesses.”

Fight the Good Fight

Since I gave myself permission to use the word FIGHT, not as a negative but as a positive, this statement came to mind, ‘Fight the good fight!’ Usually when something comes to mind more often than not it is from the bible and sure enough, I dug around to find where the term comes from, the term is found in Timothy 6:12!

I need to find a peace in my use of the word fight. I’m not using the word, fight, in anger as if I’m mad at this disease that is in my body waging war; no I’m fighting the good fight. As a child, I always fought for what I believed in going against my parents, Catholicism, and any other form of opposition that rose against me. And believe me, my entire life has been a battle; the war didn’t begin with the sudden appearance of this affliction. 

In my eyes, complete internal and external healing can only take place by the individual person, not by a drug dealer. An open wound may need a surgeon but your chronic illnesses need an all-over healing that is not going to take place with drugs. When you decide to go the homeopathic route, you need to tend to your damage by taking good care of you. You need to go deep within yourself to heal portions that you thought were dead and buried and are often found in the abysmal caverns of your soul.

Digging into your childhood to find those old wounds that made you feel broken need to be mended, not just stitched up or pacified but HEALED. Find the cause of your sickness that stemmed from your inability to handle any adversity that boiled but you left the stew on simmer thinking the problem would just go away or eventually evaporate. As you get older and one crippling illness after another creeps up on you, look to your past. 

As I was growing up, my body told me that I have a built-in defense mechanism. This mechanism rears its head on life’s path as disease/illness and healing. I can go back to my early childhood and peek in the window of my past and see what the cause of each illness I had, from mumps to strep throat to mononucleosis and onto psoriasis and other ailments like arthritis. All of those illnesses rose from an unnatural childhood. There was alcoholism, drug use, being bullied and sexual abuse. These evil elements manifested in my ill health. My immune system was basically fighting the good fight against the enemy. A condition surfaced because I was not winning the battle against abuse to my mind, body and my spirit. The affliction was my immune system kicking into overdrive to defend and wake me up. Either I was too young to take care of myself and listen to what my body was saying, or I was just too blind to see.

When this recent malady came upon me, I knew first and foremost what needed to be done. I needed to look within myself, go on a spiritual journey and heal from within. As I’ve said over and over since January there is more to this attack on my body than just popping pills, radiate, slice and dice to heal; the disease is an attempt to awaken you. You need to bring your mind into sync with your inner cogs. It’s called a WAKE-UP call, so to speak.

I’ve never depended on doctors in my life. They, to me, believe egotistically that they are gods and demand submission. Doctor’s are opinionated, meaning they are right and you are wrong. The scare tactic is the tone of your diagnosis from the heavy voice of your doctor.
“Well sir, you have (fill in your illness), I can give you (name a drug) for that. We’ll take some tests and let you know what more we can do for you.” (Prescribe more scripts) How many of you just nodded your head in agreement? Granted there are a rare few who actually listen to YOU. I’ve not found one since my one pediatrician back in the day but I know they’re out there.

When was the last time you went to the doctor and they offered healing? Not surgery, drugs and medication, real healing sending you to a naturopath, holistic healer anything but offer you fear and drugs. Can you answer that, honestly?

You walk into the doc’s office with a pain in your back. “Okay ma’am/sir, we’re going to schedule you for some x-rays and an MRI but here is a pain medication to hold you over.” First, they ask you about allergies and such and you give them the answer but don’t really know yourself if you’re allergic to the new synthetic drugs, but hey, you take the pill and find out because the doctor said so.

After getting fancy tests, he informs you that you might need surgery. That is a fear tactic used over and over again. After you break out in hives and vomit, he then tells you that you might be having an allergic reaction to the pills he gave you. He then proceeds to give you a different one. Does he EVER tell you about the side effects you might experience? Does he read the fine print to you? You know, liver damage, heart palpitations, a rise in blood pressure, or suicidal tendencies? Of course not, it’s a wait-and-see what works. Most doctor offices are paid to prescribe, not to heal. How many of you are being hounded to get a flu vaccine? One that has been untested on the flu virus of the season.

The above scenario is the exact instance that happened to my dad, right up until the day he died. Now my mother is being led down that same path with type2 diabetes. She’s on ten pills and was told to watch her sugar intake, that’s it! She was never told about watching out for the processed foods or the toxicity of meats, or how the GMO’s could make her illness worse, no, just take some pills and call me when problems arise.

I cannot in good conscience listen to the doctor when I have an Almighty Healer prescribing me herbs and fruits of the earth. He whispers to me and I hear what He is telling me. Now I’m not saying that YOU should do or hear the same thing as me, we are all uniquely individual and programmed differently. I just don’t believe that drugs are the end all-cure all of this addicted society. As I take, ‘Fight the Good Fight’, consciously, physically, and spiritually I find a healing peace wash over me because His Power is made Perfect my weakness!

All praise and Glory to God!

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” 2 Corinthians 12:9a (NIV)


Monday, November 13, 2017

My D-Day

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! … And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:4, 7 (NIV)

My D-Day

It was a life-altering diagnosis, to say the least. January 25, 2017, will be forever ingrained in my head. My D-day, the day of diagnosis; the pain-filled moments, the buckets of tears, the burden of fears. But wait, out of the somber ashes rose life, promise, hope, and change. What happened? How did I do a 360-degree shift in my ways and thinking? 

I read an email this morning and this is a pastor who received news that his father had the dreaded C. He buckled, he caved but then he prayed and praised. What comes over people in the midst of grief that they feel the need to turn to God? I can’t speak for anyone else but I know why I turned to God because He is my life. He’s not just a pie in the sky man in the clouds, He is my Father and the one I turn to when life seems to be going wrong and even when everything in life is going right. 

Pastor Chris on his father - “His treatment successfully eradicated the disease from his body. However, the cancer returned the following year, and my beloved father passed away a few months later.”

Just like the Pastor, I relied on God then, now and always. My Father’s Words showered over me to comfort me, to carry me, to strengthen me and yes, to heal me! I came home on that brisk cold January day with God pressing on my heart. As the boxes of used Kleenex filled the trashcan I was being comforted in a way I can only describe as a mystical experience because it didn’t feel like a normal everyday event if felt supernatural from a Holy Spirit I had come to depend on, know and trust with every aspect of my life.

2 Tim. 4:18 “And the Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will preserve me unto his heavenly kingdom: to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.” (KJV)

As I read the email I kept hearing in my head, eradicated but returned. Over and over the truth of the matter was the very essence that kept me strong when I myself was diagnosed and going against what the doctors wanted for me. Many of my aunts and uncles, lost their fight with the battle because it was eradicated only to return until they eventually succumbed. This was not going to be my battle.

My D day was not my death sentence day, not my diagnosis of death, it was my Day of Deliverance! I was set free from the chains of toxicity. I gained intimate insight of the traumatic illness that had taken over my body. Life was breathed into my nostrils as the tears dried and the fight became a war that was attacking from inside and out. Someone else in my family was not going to war on this ailment; I was chosen to go into battle because God knew I was little but I was the chosen one to handle the life-altering battle that came knocking on my door. I felt very much like the way David must have felt coming face-to-face with a giant and his only arsenal a slingshot.

1 Sam. 17:45 “David said to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. 46 This day the Lord will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds and the wild animals, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. 47 All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”

The BC group I’m a part of says not to use words like war or fight because they have negative connotations but to me, they are the Words that God gave me to use on this journey. I’m not playing poker here. I’m not skipping through daffodils. I’m fighting for my life and everyone else that comes after me who is scared and shaken into submission by the Giant Doc/Pharma. I have to keep in mind that not everyone is serving the same Lord that I listen to and serve. I’ve also learned in ten months not to listen to other people and all of their protocols because every single one is different. Opinions are different, protocols are different and each disease is different. We have to differentiate what supplements and health food work for us individually.

Ex. 14:14 “The LORD shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.”

That would be the same group of ladies who said not to bring God to their facebook page. While I like reading what protocols they are using in their journey, I respect that they are all healing in their own way and worship different entities. I’ve come to realize that I have something more powerful in my arsenal than most of them have and that is a bag of rocks and my Almighty Father's Healing Words. 

Josh. 23:10 “One man of you shall chase a thousand: for the LORD your God, he it is that fighteth for you, as he hath promised you.”

I have impassioned friends who support me on this journey and those that have turned their back. Does that sound familiar to you? If you’re a believer it might, if not, then you are nothing short of the doubting Thomas’ in today’s society. To me the words war and fight doesn’t hold negativity, it holds promise! The very promise that my God filled me with on My D-Day and every day moving forward.

All praise and Glory to God my Healing Savior

Friday, November 10, 2017

Standing Strong

Prov. 24:10 "If thou faint in the day of adversity, thy strength is small."

Standing Strong 

Without even being aware of what tension would rise I thought a writing course would be a good soothing exercise. I thought wrong. I love writing for my blog as much as I can and it feels therapeutic. I’ve been moving along at a nice pace as healing is taking place. Feeling good about myself I wanted a distraction via a fiction-writing course from all the illness talk. I realized I don’t know how to separate my fact from fiction.

The writing course claims that you should have a completed fictional SHORT STORY by the end of six lessons. I’ve taken this course many times over the years so I knew what to expect, expect the unexpected I thought heading into the course. What I didn’t expect was a classroom of five to seven people working on their novels in progress. Writers are awesome people, as diverse as a bag of Skittles even more diverse when they’re mixed with a bag of M&M’s! 

I decided to center my SHORT STORY on Faith and Hope, characters of a fictional tale but too close to my nonfiction story for my taste. I realized I didn’t like writing fiction at all. I do have an entire novel sitting in my files untouched for years, still nestled in the first draft stages. I also have a couple of short stories in my files that I won’t take the time to send them through the rigors of being picked apart by critique. I did learn a lot this round of taking this course. Everything I taught at one time being a mentor was dismantled, I watched my work being shredded not guided in any way. I wound up rewriting my short story for a final revision and it lost all the poetic substance of the entire tale. To me, my story became do-do on a shoe.

Tension, that only I knew was taking place, began about the third week. I wanted to drop the course but I also really wanted to complete the beloved class where I originally met so many of my current dear friends thirteen years ago. I continued on being the trooper that I am until I finally completed the sixth lesson of my short story.

I wondered why I set myself up for this adversity but it’s not much unlike when I post something on facebook to get a reaction when it’s the reaction I don’t like, I tend to tense up completely. Why do I bother? That is exactly what I felt like by lesson six, why did I bother? Let me give you a bit of advice, when taking a trip down memory lane don’t expect the same sensation you felt originally. The memory is in the past for a reason, it is over and done with and cannot be recreated in any way, shape or form. Lesson learned.

I was taught that if you’re going to say something negative about someone’s work, reinforce it with something positive. I didn’t feel much of anything positive coming through my screen. The feeling may have just been my tension build-up and I, not wanting to continue, reflected the negativity I saw. In other words, it was more than likely just my irritated mind arousing the tension.

What did I learn from this session of the writing course? Anything goes. You can work on your novel in progress and you’ll receive pats on the back for defying what the true intention of the SHORT STORY course is about. You’ll be rewarded for going against the grain. You’ll be held accountable for not understanding proper punctuation and you might even feel shamed into taking a punctuation course so your writing can get better. Your words will be pulled apart like shredded cheese and tossed on the floor for you to pick up the pieces and put back together.

So basically my writing sucks. THIS is why I’m sticking to my blog writing! Fiction is not for me at this juncture in my life. Nonfiction writing whether misspelled or punctuated wrong on my blog is MY journal style writing that releases my tension and saves me days and weeks of unnecessary pressure. I thought I was ready for open criticism but I think I still have a way to go.

"Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." 
~ Albert Einstein

Yesterday to release a ton of tension I went shopping. As anyone who knows me knows that I’m not a person who splurges on things. These past ten months my main purchases were vitamins, organic vegetables, three pairs of pants from the Goodwill and that’s about it. I’ve never acquired a taste for spending money. I wouldn’t say I’m a miser, I just like to purchase necessities over extravagances.

My mother sent me a Christmas gift back in October and she told me to buy myself something nice. You also know that my mother has no idea I’m fighting this illness. My first thought was to use the money in my fight of this disease but yesterday I woke, putting on my twenty-five-year-old winter shoes, I realized I never splurge and buy myself anything. With hubby off of work, I asked him if he wanted to go shopping and off we went. I bought two pairs of winter shoes/boots and eight nonfiction books all for sixty bucks! I’m a frugal shopper. Yay, me!

Shopping, reading nonfiction, and coloring in my adult-aged coloring books I received last Christmas released much of my tension. I am now once again on a recovering path. I think I’ll just stick to my journal style writing for a while. Just so you know, I’ve had diaries all of my life and not once did I concern myself with restructuring, grammar etiquette or revisions. I wrote to release tension and that is what I’m going to continue on my blog. Thanks for any and all understanding.

Prov. 19: 25 "Smite a scorner, and the simple will beware: and reprove one that hath understanding, and he will understand knowledge."

Thursday, November 09, 2017

My Survival

Luke 12:15 "And he said unto them, Take heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth."


My survival will be the life of me and the eventual death of me. I strive every waking day to be a vibrant life force in the world but sometimes my immediate surroundings and events throw a pebble into the smooth running cog. One minute I’m a peppy go-getter ready to tackle the world and in the blink of an eye I can turn and wonder what all this struggle is for, what purpose and to what end.  I read something yesterday about this path in life being the path we were destined to be on, good and bad, it is our path laid out for us. I know where the path leads but getting there is no walk in the park, that’s for sure.

I really feel sorry for the folks skipping down the path on their merry way thinking this is all that there is and just keep going until they hit a dead end. They neither care for the in-betweens, are blind to the beginning and end of the line, or they just can’t be bothered, they’re here to live and die. Well, that sounds like a fulfilling life.

Had it not been for this disease, I would still be skipping down the path, if truth be told. I would’ve never had a reason to fight to stay alive but this illness brought me to a juncture in my path and colored it with purpose. I’m not staying alive for anyone around me, that to me is pointless, I’m surviving for the end of the line, where I meet the face of Jesus. All this in between stuff is to show you the strength and determination that resides in people with a purposeful end-of-the-line view. 

My sister had an incident a couple of weeks ago where her outside electric box was shooting sparks. Fearing for the loss of everything she began gathering pictures and stuff that had meaning to her. The fire department came and said the electric company would have to come out and put a new box in. My sister, needless to say, slept in her car with her stuff until the next day when the electric company came. 

Maybe it is just me who is unattached to stuff but I thought if something like that happened to me, I’d grab my writing. I couldn’t think of anything else, nothing came to mind. On Sunday when we went to see his family, I looked around at the hundreds of pictures lining the walls. This family is all about pictures. When we were getting ready to literally walk out the door we were stopped by the words, “Let’s get a picture.” The picture wanted was not of hubby and me but of all of those who were there.

Four different people wanted pictures (I wasn’t one of them) and we had to stand and allow four different cameras to click a shot. Twenty minutes later we were finally heading out the door. I scratch my head thinking what is it? I don’t like my picture being taken for one, and also, there is more to life than pictures. Sure you get a snapshot of a memory but what for? To possess, to brag, boast and share? I don’t get it. You can never relive those moments and the best of the moments are stored in your memory, do people really need the physical picture? Is that what is important in life?

My point being in all of this is that people cling to the darndest of things. The materials we acquire in life are not going with us when we die. I don’t even know if our memories go with us. We move on and all of this is left behind, that is what I work every day for, the end of the line. Not for what is here and now, not for memories and pictures but of the life and the world I will live in when I pass. I guess I’m weird like that. I don’t cling to materials.

Words, not pictures, matter most to me. When I pass, my family will scarcely find pictures of me. They’ll look at the pictures they dig up, weep and cry for what WAS, what they missed, and what they didn’t get to see. The image will not tell my story by any means but if they scan my words, they’ll get the entire picture of who I AM! The images will show I lived, I died, but my words, they will enter your soul and you will FEEL me long after I go! This is one of the very reasons for my need for survival, to leave something worth reading behind. One picture is worth a thousand words but my words will hold millions of pictures.

I pray each and every one of you are touched and blessed by my words! My purpose will be fulfilled. All praise and Glory to God! 

Matt. 6:33 "But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you."

Wednesday, November 08, 2017

Paranoia II

Prov. 13:17 “A wicked messenger falleth into mischief: but a faithful ambassador is health.”

Paranoia II

Sometimes when I begin writing I veer off topic and go in a whole other direction. Like yesterdays post, I wanted to write about the paranoia that seeps into everything I’m doing. If someone comments on a post I’m trying to share I get defensive when they don’t agree with me and they go off in their own direction in what they believe. My apologies, but that just does not work for me.

What I’m trying to do here is unconventional on so many levels, I don’t expect people to rally behind me and say go for it but I also don’t expect them to jump down my throat and berate me with why I’m wrong. I will refrain from sharing on facebook the doctors and websites that I read from and follow because more times than not it’s pointed out that it is a fake news site, the doctor’s are wrong because the medical world does not agree with their unconventional ways, or that I’m just a crazy woman. Well, that one I can agree on.

I’ve just deleted hundreds of emails because most were trying to feed my paranoid state. Topics covered were thyroid, diabetes, heart disease and the list goes on. Topics also include why the water I shower with is toxic, why this one vegetable is not good if I’m fighting the C, or why chemtrails are making everyone sick. The emails feed my paranoia as does the toxic invaders.

Anyone who is following my journey on a daily basis knows what I am going through. I have some people who come in and comment off the cuff and think I’m fighting a simple illness like the flu and want to discuss the ramifications of NOT getting a flu shot. I’m sorry people, I do not believe in the flu shot, vaccines, or anything the medical community tosses out for human consumption. If you read me daily, you’ll understand and know why! The pharmaceutical corporations lead doctors; their pocketbooks are lined by an addicted nation that THEY contribute to daily.

When I point out that the medical community knows nothing about nutrition I’m met with a person's statistics on the reasoning why they are okay with doctors pushing drugs, or how there is one doctor in a big city that knows about nutrition. You see what I’m saying? That one doctor is not helping ME, or the ones I turn to and read on a regular basis. I guess me spewing where I get my information is not syncing with you or the Harvard medical community as a whole.

I’m basically alone in my journey and I’m okay with that. I’m living in a world of people addicted to drugs, legal and illegal drugs mind you. Those people are as defensive of their drugs as I am in fighting for what I believe in. I don’t agree with you that every pill you pop is necessary just as you don’t agree that cancer can be fought and won with NUTRITION! Again, I’m okay with what you believe in but please don’t try and sway me from what I believe in just for argument's sake.

In January when I got this diagnosis the medical community worked hard as nails to instill FEAR in me. I being the warrior and rebel that I am, gently asked for time and they put kid gloves on and knocked me out of the ballpark, dropping me like a hot potato because their income just went out the door with me. They quickly moved on to the next uninformed cancer patient. Did they ever call me to see how I’m doing? NO, they could care less. All they care about is their money! I have proof as they quickly sent me to a collection agency for bills unpaid. I sent money to them but they returned it because they want the FULL payment, not a mere portion at a time. THAT is the medical community that YOU bow down to!

While I am out here feeling great, eating well and am on the road to healing, they still have the hold of paranoia on me in trying to bully me into paying for tests that THEY forced me into! In my distress of being informed of a death sentence, they wheeled me into one test after another knowing full well that the tests could cause the spread of the disease. But if I tell anyone in the medical world of this, they scoff and shrug, they are right and I am wrong. I don’t have legitimate sources or twenty years of 'studies' to back me up.

While I have changed everything I cook, eat, drink and wear, I’m still met with people who disagree with my choice in this journey. I am still being hit with a barrage of information that essentially feeds my paranoia. I have to watch every bite of food going in my mouth and the way it’s cooked no microwave or Teflon cookware for me. I read every label, I buy organic when I can, and feel paranoid when I can’t and allow it to still pass through my mouth. To me, that is cheating! If it is not organic and intricately scrutinized, I feel I’m cheating myself.

No, I haven’t cheated on the sugar intake in nine months. I bend a little on the carbohydrates but only because the first six months of strictly fruits and vegetables has passed. I now allow lentils and some (organic) beans, gluten free, grain free bread and still allow only coconut milk and coconut oil. Only free-range chickens and eggs are allowed on occasion, definitely not a daily basis because of the methionine content. And I have found that the only processed food I can eat sparingly is organic soups and chili. That’s it, but I am eating and happy with every bite I might add. 

With Thanksgiving nearing, I’m thinking of a meal for me and one for the carnivores of the house. While the guys will eat the normal meal of turkey and mashed potatoes, I might try a zucchini medley for me. The aroma will wipe me off of my feet and I may find myself sulking as no biscuits and gravy for me unless I can find something organic I can sink my teeth into. But as with everything else, I’m over thinking and allowing a little paranoia to venture its way into my assertiveness.

I am so glad that from day one of my diagnosis I was led right to The Truth About Cancer and Chris Wark and every doctor they’re affiliated with. It was no coincidence, as I don’t believe in coincidence. It could have been me manifesting my wishes in beating this disease alternatively but I would rather believe that I was led there by my FAITH and trust in God!

I am a Christian soldier, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus, going on before! This fight is far from over. As with many other wars, this one can’t be won in a couple months or a year, this one will take years but I am up to the challenging battle. One day I’ll even be open to discussions where I can debate who is right and who is wrong but I’m not there yet. I’m coming up on my one year since diagnosis on January 25th, and two years since I felt the prominent lump in December. So you see, this battle is far from over and that is why continued prayer will carry me to victory.

3 John 1:2 “Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.”

May God bless the believers and non-believers alike!