Over the past few days, both online and in person, I have been put in a position of feeling the need to defend myself. Online, I felt attacked for my beliefs. Off the screen, the actions of a person whom I barely know had a negative effect on my art business. Separately from that, a grown woman belittled my teenage son.
The act of defending myself has made me self-defensive, and quick to react to perceived insult or threat.
It has been annoying. I am most annoyed at myself for taking the bait. I have allowed myself to be affected by the words and actions of people who do not have a prominent role in my life. As a concept, I believe that everyone matters, but the people whom I have allowed to impact my inner peace are not people who matter much, personally, to me.
I do care about the whole world, but for me, it is my husband and my sons who matter. After several days of strife, I began to wonder why these outside forces were affecting me so profoundly.
When I was a preschool teacher, I practiced a teaching method that I called “controlled conflict.” I allowed for situations and scenarios that required the children to find ways to overcome a clash amongst themselves. For example, if two children were fighting over the same toy, I encouraged them to talk to one another and come up with a solution to their problem. A preschool-level solution might be to play together, to take turns, or to find a similar toy, so that they both could play simultaneously. I coached the children through their conflict and asked them to agree on a mutually acceptable resolution, while assuring that they didn’t turn to violence as a means of asserting their will.
I allowed them to practice conflict resolution in a safe environment. My theory was that this method of teaching would prepare them for dealing with the real conflicts that would, inevitably, occur throughout their life.
Because my buttons had been pushed by different people coming from different directions, I wondered if God was practicing some “controlled conflict” with me. Is it possible that these mini-wars that I have been fighting are preparing me for something bigger?
I have noticed, in my life, that there have been times of struggle that have given me the necessary strength to confront much greater struggles that were yet to come. If I hadn’t stood up against the vaccine mandates and allowed myself to be fired from my job, I would not have had the strength to care for my mom in the way that I did. If my mom hadn’t needed me as much as she had, I would not have been able to deal with the death of my son. If I had not fought through the six months of my mom’s turbo cancer, I would never have walked away from the life that I had always known, in an attempt to build something new, outside of the corrupt system that is working toward enslaving us all.
I would prefer to move forward without conflict. I am non-confrontational by nature. I value my solace and my peace. I believe that remaining tranquil and harmonious is the most effective way to fight against the chaos that is attempting to engulf us. It is when we give our energy to the darkness that the darkness grows.
But, when I perceived my peace to be under attack, I became anxious. I became combative and I fought back with my words. The result of my combativeness was a disruption to my sense of peace. It seemed that my self-defensive instincts were working against me. By lashing out at these would-be attackers, wasn’t I destroying the very thing that I was trying to protect?
I no longer believe that there are earthly answers to any questions. Last night, before sleep, I opened my bible, looking for advice regarding my recent agitation. I found Matthew 5: 10 - 12.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
I don’t know that sticking up for myself in these little situations has been equal to defending righteousness. However, these practice sessions have reminded me that there is power behind my words.
We are living through times when our ability to maintain a tranquil existence is under attack. There are dark forces at play, creating chaos and strife. Their goal is to extinguish all light. Fighting back requires us to defend what is good and what is right.
This morning, I came outside and I watched the sun rise over the soybean fields. I remembered something that I had learned while my mom was sick. Even in the darkest times, the sun rises every morning. It shines light into our soul.
I have been given the gift of words. My words are the weapon that I use to fight. My job is to use my words to help others hold onto their light.
It is only through love that we will overcome the hate that attempts to destroy everything good that God created.
If you appreciate my words, please share them with the world:
To know the whole story, start at the beginning:
I am not a doctor, a scientist or an investigative journalist.
I am a daughter, a mom, an artist and a storyteller.
I have a story to tell about turbo cancer.
I have a story about our failed medical system
I will tell it to anyone who will listen.
On June 12, 2022, after four Pfizer injections, my very healthy mom was suddenly diagnosed with stage-IV pancreatic cancer in her left inguinal groin lymph node, B-cell lymphoma, and melanoma. Her immune system had failed completely. The fast-growing tumors spread to her bones, breaking them from the inside. She lived, suffering, until December 13.
I was her full-time caregiver.
Beginning June 11, 2023, day by day, using memories, photos, text conversations, medical records, my journal, and my mom’s journal, I chronicled the story of her disease on Facebook. I told about the progression of her illness, the failed medical response, her unimaginable pain, her experience, my experience, and how her spirit refused to be broken.
My mom represents millions of people who were deceived, intimidated or forced into receiving an injection. Her story is all of our story.
On This Day, Last Year - Six Months of Turbo Cancer
Turbo Cancer: The Beginning - June 11, 2022
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Feb 3
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My own daughter recently called me an “Antivaxxer” like it was a bad word. I guess I am an antivaxxer and proud of it!
You are doing the right thing and yes family always comes first.
I commend you for remaining civil toward your fellow man, I still struggle with this ☹️But it is vital that we remember all those who have died or been i juried by these kill shots. The globalists have just begun and we need to warn people to remain aware of the psyops we are abd those headed our way.
Do Not Comply