In a study by Emil O.W. Kirkegaard, the Ulster Institute of Social Research recently released an interesting findings stating that people who are extremely liberal suffer from mental illness more frequently than right-wing extremists. In my observation  part of the mental illness is the anger that is attached to their way of thinking. Once this mindset has entered into a cult-like thinking, it’s difficult to escape the outcome. As a conservative I, too, suffer from reading too much into political matters, but I’ve learned to put the brakes on when my mind gets too flustered. I pray instead of obsessing.

California Living

We are surrounded by natural beauty, and though I live 20 minutes from the beach, the ocean generously sends us a cooling breeze on a regular basis. This breeze reminds me that God is in control; I can’t see the Pacific, or see the breeze but it is ever present. California has turned its wounded cheek for more and more abuse, but all the evil is being exposed for the world to see. We are a state controlled by liberals, but they do not rule over us because we, who believe in truth and justice are not taking these matters lightly.

We have developed into a nation of bad leadership: education, professional sports teams, Hollywood, politicians and liberal media have given us a preview of life in chaos. The liberals can say what they feel without any recourse for what spews out of their mouths. Yet we silently voice our opinion by shutting them off. Take the Academy Awards; not too many of us cared to participate in this staged event strategically making sure that certain races and genders of people won. I remember when this show was in its prime and the winners were awarded because of their talent not their gender or race. Our silent voices were loudly expressed with the show’s lowest ratings ever. I don’t want to be lectured by liberal thinking. People like me will no longer support any movies they make either.

Our governor is running scared because he thought he was invincible. We’re tired of how this state is being ruined by buffoons with big hair and Joker smiles. It’s time for new leadership. I signed the petition to remove our governor from office months ago, and apparently we have reached more signatures than are needed to recall Newsom. We don’t keep our fingers crossed, we pray.

The Extreme Mindset

A  circumspect mind gives us an opening to reality. There is good in all of us, but when the mind wanders deep into the abyss of darkness, sometimes it’s difficult to find a way out and into the light. I know plenty of extreme right-wing people; they mean well but they separate themselves because of their own beliefs. Though my husband and I do not always agree on political matters, we have learned to leave this out of our marriage for the sake of peace. It’s not my job to change him to believe as I do, nor can he impose his beliefs on me. The only recourse is to pray for the revelation of God’s truth.

The extreme example of left-wing bias has been given the right to wave their banners of injustice in our faces. We see what Black Lives Matter is about. They do not represent Black America. BLM are out for themselves, and there is no hiding their truth. So far Patrisse Cullors,  BLM co-founder, has purchased four homes valued over 3.2 million dollars. According to an article in the Washington Times, FaceBook blocked this story from being viewed. BLM of New York City has called for an independent investigation of Ms. Cullors home-buying binge.  This is for the “woke” folks to wake up and follow the money trail.

Vice-President

Our giggling Vice-President has yet to set foot near our borders. I’m a mother; when my children needed provisions; food, clothing, shelter, it was our responsibility as parents to make sure their needs were met. I would never clothe, feed and shelter a stranger before my own family. Yet our country is carelessly doing this. I am a missionary, so if anyone understands the needs of others, I do! As a missionary I see the pain, the need and the care others need, but for the love of God and country, let’s take care of America first. Kamala Harris continues to spend money when it is needed at home. This liberal thinking has stepped on and pushed aside the needs of Americans. Our homeless crisis continues to escalate while Biden and Harris load up illegal immigrants on to planes to hide the real problem. To make us believe that all the influx of illegals has to do with climate change is egregious.

Governor Cuomo

Though the news of all of Cuomo’s wrongdoings have been swept under the rug, God is dealing with this city. When sin is exposed but no action has been taken to rid the sin, God allows the decay to rot from within. With the lack of police the city will slowly die a sinner’s death. 5,300 uniformed officers retired or put in their paperwork to leave the force in 2020; this is a 75% spike from the previous year. Do the math; without law, anarchy prevails. Keep your mask on and you’ll be fine. Keep defunding the police and your mask will be your only protection. God help New York!

With the fake news of Biden’s popularity soaring, you’d think he invented the wheel. In the eyes of the liberal media he does no wrong; well that is partly correct because he does nothing! I’m praying when the bishops meet later this month, they reach the consensus that Biden no longer receive Communion because Biden does not support Catholic doctrine.

My Prayer:

Dear Lord, though we cannot see the changes, we know that You are in control. Nothing will destroy all the work that has been done in our free country. Lord, I pray that all those who are confused, misguided and lost, will feel the breath of Your Holy Spirit. Lord, speak to all of us in dreams and renew our love for one another. You are the Master of us all and we wait for Your Holy Hand to move over this country. Amen

An interior locution is that still, small voice telling you what to do. It’s a private revelation, something you receive internally. This revelation may come from a saint, the Blessed Virgin Mary, or Jesus. This spiritual  encounter is a mystical communication, a message from God that may need immediate attention. A locution can also be a holy experience. Once while I was praying during Eucharistic adoration, I had my eyes closed, when suddenly Jesus came to give me communion. He was holding a communion wafer, and as He got closer, out of fear I opened my eyes and the vision disappeared. God speaks to us in many ways; as we receive and respond to these messages, God will entrust us with more encounters.

The Vacuum Cleaner

This incident happened years ago: our vacuum cleaner broke. Any other time I would have dealt with it by putting it off for another day. I was cleaning the house because we were expecting company. When these things happen I usually call Mike, who told me to purchase a new one. I went to a local repair shop and explained my dilemma. The owner asked me to bring the old vacuum in  for a trade in,  so I did. The owner told me that it could not be repaired. I was still not sure if I wanted to purchase a new one, so he gave me a loaner. While I was vacuuming, an interior voice came to me. I heard, “Go back and pick up the old vacuum.” I dismissed it as nonsense. Once again I heard the same message but with more urgency.  This time I stopped vacuuming and loaded the loaner. As I walked in, the owner was surprised to see me. “I’ve changed my mind, can I please have my vacuum back?” I explained. The perplexed man answered, “Oh, I’ve already taken it apart.” Without thought, the voice instructed me to say, “That’s fine, put it back together, I’ll wait.” As it turned out, he had not taken it apart as he wanted me to believe. I took my vacuum and loaded it into my car. Now what? I thought. Again the voice said, “Return the vacuum to Costco.” I could not remember whether the vacuum had been  purchased there, but I was obedient. Sure enough, Costco had proof of the purchase, and I received a full refund for the amount.

San Francisco

As always when Mike and I are out of town, we try to attend a church service. As we were driving in San Francisco, we passed St. Dominic’s Catholic Church. We stopped and walked the grounds of this beautiful church. As we walked in, a service was about to begin, Mike knew by the look on my face that we were staying. The service was held in a side chapel of the church to accommodate the smaller group of congregants. We sat behind a dark-skinned man; maybe he was from India. This young man was wearing a pink long sleeved-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had a worn out Bible next to him. One other thing that I noticed about this man: his arms were covered in sores. When the service ended the Lord told me to go and speak to the young man. Mike and I were already half way out the door. Again the interior voice urged me to go back. But this time I registered mental objections, “No, I don’t know him, and besides Mike will think I’m crazy.” As I continued to walk my heart started to beat at an accelerated rate.  Again I heard, “Go to the young man!” I turned to Mike and said,  “I need to go back into the church to give the man who was sitting in front of us a message.” With a puzzled look on his face, Mike uttered a long, “OOOkay.” As I made my way back into the chapel, it was empty! I felt so bad for my disobedience. As I was exiting, I noticed the young man sitting in the main sanctuary. I was a little winded by the time I sat down behind him. As I opened my mouth  I was not sure what to say, but the Lord put the words in my mouth. I tapped him on the shoulder and said, “The Lord has a message for you. He hears your prayers and will soon answer them.” As the young man turned to face me, he was crying. He said, “Thank you very much.” With that I walked back towards Mike, who was waiting for me outside. Mike never questioned me about this because he understood this was from God.

The Miracle

For those of you who do not know, for twelve years I worked for Release Time Christian Education. This program involved fourth and fifth grade students. This organization has been around for over 60 years. The children are escorted  off  school grounds (usually during lunch) and fed the Word of God; both Mikos and Sonja (our children) participated in this program when they were in elementary school.

This experienced occurred over seven years ago, on a Thursday at Nohl Canyon Elementary school.  While picking up my students, Kaitlan, a fifth grader, came running to tell me that Kelly (the parent of a former student) was in the hospital. Our walk to the trailer was a distance from the school so I questioned her about Kelly. All she could tell me was that she was very sick. I had this desire  in my heart to go to the hospital and pray for her; but she was just an acquaintance, and I wondered how she would receive me.  I taught the 45-minute class and walked the students back to school with this overwhelming urge to go see Kelly. “No, no, I can’t do this.  It would be too weird!’ I told myself.  Then I went home to eat lunch. I made a sandwich and took several bites when I felt the Lord tugging at my heart to go. I called the hospital to get more specific information. I still do not understand what came over me, but I got into my car and drove at an accelerated speed to St. Joseph’s Hospital. I was praying the entire way, but the Devil was also attempting to get my attention. Satan’s voice questioned me repeatedly: “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know her?” I tried to shut out the negative voices with praise music. So many obstacles were thrown my way as I rushed in to see Kelly. I thought to myself, what do I have to give her? I felt so empty that I was trembling when I arrived.  Kelly was in the ICU (intensive care unit). Due to the severity of her condition, visitors were required to suit up in a mask, gloves and robe. It was a shocking sight to see this normally active, young, beautiful mother of two in such a frail state. Kelly burst into tears and explained that her body was shutting down and that she was totally septic. With the combination of tears and the mask, my glasses fogged up as I dabbed her forehead with blessed oil and prayed for her. I prayed for healing and the total restoration of her body. Although our visit lasted only 10 minutes, after I left,  I continued praying for her throughout the day.

The following evening I received a text message from Kelly. This is what I can recall:  “I wanted you to be one of the first to know that I’m being released from the hospital today. I wanted to thank you for coming and praying for me. The infection has left my body. I want to thank you on behalf of my parents because I am their only living child. I know that you were an angel sent from heaven, and it was a miracle.”

My Prayer:

Dear Lord,

May we always be able to hear Your voice and obey without questioning Your purpose for us. As we grow more spiritually, entrust us with more of Your holiness. Fill our cups, Lord.  Amen.

Biola University

While living as a Born-Again Christian, a decision was made to complete a degree at Biola University. Among the required courses was a study of the Book of Acts — and it was there that Saul of Tarsus came alive on the page. Saul was on a mission to destroy the early Church. He operated with cold precision, securing the proper legal documentation to bring followers of Jesus back to Jerusalem to stand trial before the Sanhedrin — the supreme governing council of ancient Israel, foundational to the religious, legal, and social life of the Jewish people during the Second Temple period. This council was composed of chief priests, elders of the people, and scribes learned in the law.

Saul

But God had a greater plan.

Saul was not simply zealous — he was formidably equipped. The famous rabbi Gamaliel, a member of the Sanhedrin Council, was Saul’s teacher — the most highly respected scholar of his generation. Saul was a Pharisee, a Roman citizen by birth through his father (Acts 16:37), a tentmaker by trade, and fluent in both Hebrew and Greek. He was relentless in his pursuit of the early Christians, determined to bring them to trial and, if possible, to their deaths.

Yet God wasted nothing. Every skill Saul had honed in the service of persecution, God redirected in the service of proclamation. His zeal did not disappear at his conversion — it was transformed. The same fire that drove him to hunt Christians would now drive him to the ends of the known world to make them.

Even his trade served the mission. A tentmaker was never without work — Roman soldiers were required to serve for twenty-four years, their deployments stretching across Asia Minor and the Holy Land, and every one of them needed shelter. God used Saul’s hands to fund what God had placed in his heart.

While I was living my life as a Born Again Christian, I decided to finish my education at Biola University. As part of the curriculum, one of the classes included a study on the Book of Acts. This introduced me to Saul of Tarsus. Saul was on a mission to destroy Christians. He covered all his legal bases by making sure that he had the proper documentation to bring Jesus’ followers back to Jerusalem to stand trial before the Sandhedrin, the governing assembly of rabbis appointed with legal authority in ancient Israel.

The Road to Damascus

On his way to Damascus, Saul was stopped in his tracks — struck down by a light so blinding it brought him to the ground. The man who had never been stopped by anyone or anything was suddenly helpless in the dust.

Acts 9:4–6 (New American Bible, Revised Edition)

“He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’ He said, ‘Who are you, sir?’ The reply came, ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. Now get up and go into the city and you will be told what you must do.'”

When Jesus asked, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” — Saul had no category for the question. He did not yet know who Jesus was, because he was spiritually blind. Yet he recognized immediately that the voice was divine. This was not a vision. This was not a dream. This was an encounter with the living God — and nothing would ever be the same.

The message beneath the question was unmistakable: whatever is done to the least of His followers is done to Him. Saul had not merely been hunting Christians. He had been laying hands on Christ.

For three days, Saul neither ate nor drank. He fasted, he prayed, and he waited in darkness — until the scales fell from his eyes and he could finally see. What he saw changed everything. From that moment forward, Saul was no longer a destroyer of the Church. He would become one of its greatest architects.

He later took up his Roman name, Paul — a deliberate choice as his mission carried him deeper into Gentile territory, where he became, in a sense, all things to all people so that he might win some for Christ (cf. 1 Corinthians 9:22). The man who once signed arrest warrants for believers would go on to write nearly half of the New Testament, shaping the theology and spiritual imagination of the Church for two thousand years.