On February 12, 2011, I had an abortion. I don't remember how far along I was but I know it was under 8 weeks....
As it turns out, our Father Jehovah (the Holy Spirit), calls this abortion an act of God's will. Let me explain.
I gave birth to my first child on April 26, 2006. I met his father at the only prom I had the chance to attend. Had it not been for my brother introducing me to his girlfriend (at the time), I wouldn't have had the opportunity to waste someone else's money on a teen wedding reception without the ceremony, if you know what I mean.
We were stupid, brainless kids. I would never ever, ever regret the birth of any of my children. They're the source of the air I breathe; even if I didn't raise them.
So like I was saying; when my son was a year old, his father started let's just say… acting his age(19) which ended up at l costing him a 10 year sentence in the pen. So as a single mother with a child to provide for, while living in my in-laws home, I left my son with them to find a foundation to build on. Well Grandma's will be Grandma's, so when she thought I'd keep him from them, she sued me for custody. Of course, when the battle is a naive single mother on minimum wage versus the GM for a major trailer manufacturing company, the money won.
On June 25, 2009, I gave birth to a little girl and my only daughter. On the day Farrah Faucet and Michael Jackson passed away. Well, God forbid (actually, it was the US government), I smoke pot while pregnant then end up giving birth in a hospital I wasn't familiar with, for fear of me possibly otherwise giving birth in the middle of the highway on the way to the hospital that had been expecting me… Child Protective Services stepped in and withheld her from me with demands I meet their stipulations before I'd be permitted to take my own child home. Well, I fought for her of course, but ultimately, I just wasn't fit to be a mother; not in their eyes anyway. Even though I met most requirements on my own, they believed I wasn't doing enough. I won't mention anything regarding the role her father played in all this but when she turned a year old, her cousins and (who were originally supposed to be only temporary) guardians adopted her. By the way, I paid for my first car with $700 of Sonic Drive-thru, carhop tip change while meeting requirements to earn custody; if that gives you any idea I'm regards to how hard I fought.
So, I had no other choice, really, but to move on in my life. Shortly after the adoption was processed and her dad left, I set out in search of a second job which led to me meeting SME. So…. About two to three months later, I find out I'm pregnant. He had bought me a dog, shortly after we started dating, which assisted with my postpartum after losing custody of my first two children. Ultimately, I decided the abortion was the best option for me and I repented hard for it. Even though I am without a doubt, 100% sure that our Holy Father forgives me, at least by this time, it's still something I struggle to forgive myself for. As it turns out, once I grew close enough to Christ to hear Him, he explained that as human beings, there are some acts we perform that are powered by the will of God. Basically, he's explained to me that He called for the abortion of my unborn child for fear he would be a “bad seed.” What guilts me is the method I chose to have my abortion, which was by taking a prescribed pill that forces a miscarriage, at home. I'm not willing to elaborate but 19 months later, I brought my third child into the world. When I learned I was pregnant, before sharing the news with him I naively made a decision for my third child's father and left him. Because during our relationship, he'd expressed to me that he had no intentions on becoming a parent and I'd made the observation that he wasn't ready for the dad life.
When my son was 9 months of age, living with my sister; I met her husband's (at the time) friend since childhood and rushed into a new life, a state away.
Well I “embraced” 😬 the helicopter-mom-because-he-drinks-pinesol-and-won’t-stop-climbing-the-furniture-and-tommy-pickling-the-door-latch – life; the best I could, anyway, and waited five years to give my son a brother; then my youngest and last baby, came 2½ years later.
I was introduced to meth when my youngest child was three months old. By the time he was 10 months old, the fighting had grown into domestic violence and ultimately an education about human behavior and relations.
In this should’ve-been-a-degree-course, I learned what to expect from a narcissist; how to read body language; the long-term effects of narcissistic isolation and in all, studies have shown it takes an estimated 2 years to get to know each new acquaintance. The truth in reality is that no one ever really truly knows anyone.
Hold on, I'm getting there….
As a child, I used to experience what I called “dèja vu dreams”. I've since learned that these dreams are actually called dèja rève; they're sort of a precursor to the dèja but we experience in our awake lives; or like a foresight psychic gift. In my 20’s these dreams became so dormant that I nearly forgot I ever had them. Additionally, even though I’ve always kept an open mind of things, most of my life, I didn't really claim a denomination of faith, since the time I learned anything in regards to religion. In junior high, I picked up the denomination of agnostic. As a young child, I unbiasedly would listen to what my classmates would say while talking about God. But as a realist, it was never really the existence of God but the origin of the idea of God's existence that I often questioned.
Although I'm able to recall some of the events which occured in 2021, placing them in a sequenced order timeline is nearly impossible and most of it is all fuzzy. But there are certain recollections that stand out and difficult to forget due to their significance.
One in particular, pertaining to my original point of this entry, is the day my middle child killed himself. My middle child being the son I bore following my one and only abortion. Now, as at least a half-decent parent, this is a topic I have never, nor ever will discuss with him, due to it's sensitive subject matter… unless of course, he were to ever ask me about it which I know the chances of that occurring are very slim to none. Now, like I said, I couldn't tell you anything in regards to the date which this occurred, only co-occuring memories I'm able to recall happening around the same time.
He was about 8 years old at the time, and just for the sake of accurate story telling I'll tell include the non-important details.
In 2020, father of my two youngest children had been working for a construction company and would often inherit scrap materials left over from jobs they had done. Some of the materials he'd collected were planks of lumber with holes drilled in them, originally used for building cement forms. In July, his boss had mentioned he and his wife were planning on replacing their 1987 Coleman manufactured home with a newer edition home. Upon hearing this, my (now) ex, asked what his plans were for the one he was replacing, to which his boss replied that he had no plans aside from just wanting it off his property. When questioned about an offer for his old home, he immediately stated an offer of “free”. Since he and I were living in an old (when I say old, I mean, horse-and-buggy-era) store loft updated into a one-bedroom shack, now with three young boys, the idea of upgrading to a two-bedroom home with living space (including the kitchen) almost half as big as the place we were in, sounded like we were the ones expecting a new model! On October 15/16, 2020 the 1987 Coleman was moved onto our family's property; the demo and remodeling began shortly following. In November 2020, even after all the months I was going through the typical first-time meth-user days during the rest of the year leading up to this, no other events in my life were anything like the following months.
I'm not exactly sure what day, specifically; however, I remember my middle child had been at his uncle's house, per usual, while my two youngest boys were actually both home with us at the same time. From March, through most of the year, my youngest baby had been staying with their paternal grandparents, so the middle of the three was usually the only one at home. Matter of fact, the baby had only been home no longer than we had our new-to-us mobile home. If I'm not mistaken, we had just got him back “home” with us.
(Whenever I recount memories from the years, particularly 2019-2022, I dislike using the word “home” to describe where we lived because I'm my opinion, a house does not make a home and recalling a pleasant memory from these years especially, is difficult, to say the least.)
But anyway, I remember ordering pizza from the corner store near our house the night my baby returned to me. The following day (thank God my two youngest weren't only easy babies, they were late sleepers!) we piled in our bed and ate leftover pizza for brunch. Three of us anyway; my #4 in birth order was minding his own just exploring things around the room. The reason this memory is so significant is due to that odd tasting mushroom from one bite I took from a slice of pizza. No one else seemed to be bothered by anything unusual; my boys seemed normal and unfazed by anything out of the ordinary; and if I had been experiencing any psychodelic trip-like symptoms, they weren't too far from out of the ordinary from any normal day. However, if my memories aren't too far from the actual timeline, that following night if when I had the dream that changed my life. Prior to this dream, I would tease about church goers and during discussions I would exclaim that I believed God was a fiction of believers imaginations. I once made an attempt at reading the Bible when I was 12 years old. But halfway through Genesis I was turned off from reading any further due to the fact that I was confused by the unmentioned origin of Cain and Abels wives.
Now, at age 31, I was confronted by a man in my dream that I was only able to recognize what little I could of him based on illustrations and depictions I’d seen throughout my life. He was a bearded man, with dark auburn hair (shorter in length, not exactly as long as the man on all those crucifixes) with flames of fire in his eyes and he appeared to be standing in front of some sort of light, as he seemed to have sort of a glow to him. He warned me, “the one you are cohabiting with is the evil one and you should leave or the rest of your life does not appear to have a good outcome.” Mind you, this quote is paraphrased to the best of my memory. I have done very little research in regards to the meaning of this, interchanging the words ‘cohabiting’ with ‘inhabiting’ but admittedly I need to do more thorough research in regards to the full meaning of this. Even to date, after everything I've experienced following, this far.
However, what I do know is during this dream I was shown images of specific persons related to this foresight, as well as other related experiences which leads me to believe I am correct in my understanding. He warned me about certain occurrences which has been happening at the time and explained His warning fairly thoroughly. When I awoke from this dream, I exclaimed, “I don't know if I've been saved or I need to be saved and I'm not sure but I think the man from my dream was God.” I was told, “that's impossible”, “it's just a dream” and there was no reason why it should be taken seriously. The following year, those dèja rève began happening again, along with visions and premonitions which was something I'd never experienced before.
Even as an agnostic, based on the gifts I experienced as a child, I knew what I was capable of and when this man meets you in your dreams in the way He did, I would imagine most people would act the same as I did and take it seriously. About a year later, I'm not sure where it came from but I found the Holy Bible sitting on a shelf in my room. I immediately took the opportunity to educate myself and began reading from page one. Quite obsessively actually. Because I have dyslexia, I tend to read aloud as it helps me to focus and better understand what I'm reading. Whenever I would lose my place, I would start over from the nearest beginning and and began to notice that the better I understood what I was reading, some of the passages would change or turn red. Every time I would read about the plague of boils, my face would break out.
This dream happened in November 2020; in June or July 2023 while reading the book of Revelations, I read the description of the man from that dream. Confirmation that the man in fact was God.
When my middle son killed himself in 2021, as I recall, I had been sweeping the floor and trying to figure out where the dirt from the holes had been disappearing to, prior to me sweeping. Without warning, I saw my son walk in the front door, cut his left wrist and run back out the door. Because this was not the first thing I had seen over the months that kept me pretty much in a constant state of disbelief, when I looked outside and found nothing which seemed amiss, I sort of disregarded it. But it's one event that has never left my mind. Again, this is another experience that I may never fully understand and from what I've learned through the Holy Spirits teachings is that it is somehow related to that child I aborted and the explanation is difficult for me to describe. What I do know for sure is that the lesson being taught is concurrent with God's love and eternal life which goes hand-in-hand with the lesson he assisted with teaching me which occurred in June (?)2024 when he was 11 and reinacted one of Johns revelations in the bible when John was eaten by a beast from the sea.
On this day, I caught him sitting alone in his dad's truck and jumped at the rare opportunity to spend time and catch up with him.
Since 2020, the boys has become familiar with me leaving. Usually during an argument in an attempt to diffuse the situation. But especially after November 2022, I would leave anytime I would hear the Lord calling and would go in search of whatever He was wanting to teach me. The boys were less familiar with my relatively new relationship with God and in a misunderstanding of why I was spending so much time away from them. My son expressed to me that he was angry at me for my absence. I took the opportunity to invite him to McQueeney lake, to the location I find spiritual and go often to communicate with the Lord and believe to be the location where the tree of life stands. Little did I know, he'd be the one teaching me that day.
I took him to the tree and tried to explain it's significance to me but he seemed uninterested so I just let him explore and do his own thing while I enjoyed my time with him. Eventually, he asked if he could go for a swim while we waited for his dad to come back and pick us up. So we went down to the waters edge where I let him explore some more. A short while later, he asked if he could go swim in “the deep waters”. Because what he said related to what God has been teaching me that week, I disregarded the dangers and since I trusted him to be a good swimmer I allowed him to go, ignoring my concerns about myself not being a good enough swimmer to rescue him, if necessary.
While he prepared to swim to the opposite side of the lake, I audibly heard his voice say, “ok, now I'm eight and so are you.” while his mouth was not moving. At this point I'm extra attentive, not wanting to miss any part of this lesson. When he gets to the “deep waters” on the opposite side of the lake from where I'm at he begins splashing around in the water and I'm unsure if he's joking around or not. It's at this time when I remember the lake is dangered with turtles and water moccasins; again I hear his voice as if he's sitting right next to me. “Ok, now I'm you…”, which peaked my interest because of the relation to my lessons from God's teachings that week, “...now I'm not.” I'm having a hard time acknowledging the seriousness of the situation. He begins aggressively splashing around in the water and I begin to get worried so I yell at him to stop. At that point, the water calms and all I see is a what I first could only describe as a mermaid flop over the surface. Later, I realized it was a giant crowned fish, of some kind. I then noticed it appears he's behind a 5-lb bucket that he's carrying back over to me. All I see is the bucket, spinning and a black shadow-type I don't even know, behind the bucket. When he gets back to me, he shows me the contents of the bucket and I see two turtle heads. When he dumps the bucket, there's only one turtle. I asked him, “did you have two turtles?” To which he answers, “no, just one.”A short while later, his dad picks us up and we all go home together.
Oh yea, he's 13 now and still the size of an 8 year old boy.