Pandemic, or Plandemic? Land of the Weak, Home of the Safe? NO!!! LAND OF THE FREE, HOME OF THE BRAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just got an e-mail from a favorite local coffee shop saying we can now come in and get coffee to go – must wear masks, blah, blah.  Hip, hip, hooray, we’re “allowed,” they’re “allowed”, everywhere people are asking tyrants for permission to breathe, practically.  Through masks.  Most of which don’t work anyway.

So, I wrote them back, but haven’t yet decided to send what I wrote.  After all, they’re desperately trying to stay in business.  Still . . .

Here’s what I wrote:

What fun!  Exactly how are we supposed to drink coffee with masks on?  Let us know when we’re “allowed” to come in and act like free people – meanwhile we’ll make coffee at home (please Master, can we take our masks off at home?).  Yes, I know this is not your fault, and I feel for you and every other small business owner, but these kinds of mamby pamby e-mails are insulting and tiresome.  Just sayin’.
If I were you I’d refuse to play this stupid game, and consider suing the powers that be who, incidentally, do not own small businesses.  You could sue for damages to be distributed among other local businesses, perhaps.  Of course any funds you get will ultimately come right out of your own pocket, as a taxpaying small business owner.  The folks responsible for perpetrating this fraud (yes, “fraud” – do your homework, or simply read my husband John’s thoughts below) won’t lose a dime.
And yes, Business Owner, I know this is easier said than done, but you are bowing to the theft of your consitutional rights.  Remember, give the devil an inch and he’ll take a mile (or your business).  Or your country.
You, Small Business Owner of America, are our economic backbone.  Straighten your spiritual backbone and stand up straight.  You will be amazed at what God will do if you REFUSE TO FEAR.
P.S.  Let me know if I can put my money where my mouth is via giving to your legal expense fund.
My husband John’s thoughts:
Almost 1 million people die of the flu or  complications caused by flu every yearand as of 2017 2,813,503 from a number of other causes, and never have we responded in this delusional way.
In 2019 there were 251,454 U.S. deaths — almost 10% of all annual U.S. deaths — resulting from medical error, making it the third leading cause of death in the country. Where is the hue and cry to ban doctors?
Just a few more points to ponder and questions for you:
  • Since when do we quarantine the healthy along with the sick?
  • Since when do we destroy the lives and livelihood of a huge majority of the working class of the USA to “save” people who are veulnerable to the flu?
  • Who will decide in the future what supposed diseases we’ll have to be imprisoned for to “save” us?   Will we be incarcerated because of arthritis outbreaks?  Or allergies?  Or lactose intolerance?  It is a very very, very short step from where we are now to totalitarianism.
  • Where in the Constitution of the United Staes of America does it say the government can strip you and me of our Constiutional rights because of an epidemic?
  • Since when is it okay to inflate death numbers with suspected or unproven cases to justify what has been done to the American people?

And just one final word from me, Bev:  Let us remember the world is watching, and that it’s not “Land of the Weak, Home of the Safe.”

What I Did on My Corona Vacation

Over the past several months, I have frequently pondered the possibilities for the closet in my foyer (once used as a little office by children now grown and gone).  When a speaker at my church started talking about the marvels of having a Prayer Closet, I began to scratch that itch, one I didn’t even know was there.

Could the foyer closet work?  Maybe, but shouldn’t a Prayer Closet be quiet, rather than in the flow of traffic?  And it was a bit small – would the fetal position actually be conducive to hearing from God?  That, I knew, was what I wanted.  I wanted to pray Holy Spirit-led prayers, to be changed, and a conduit of change.  I wanted to commune with God.

I dared to dreamUninterrupted.  Private.  Whenever I wanted or needed to get alone. A place for all my stuff, my prayer and praise “paraphernalia”.  Mine.  So I could be more His.

And there it was – the room attached to the side of my utility room, functioning as linen closet, gift wrapping station, sewing/ironing spot, storage for kites, puzzles, paint, defunct pillows, lawn chairs, and Christmas decorations, revealed to me its true purpose.  I rolled up my sleeves.

Where to begin?  First came organization of the back shelves, which included large piles for both Goodwill and the trash, along with condensation of Christmas decorations.  Curtains were hung over the shelves, and the much needed deep cleaning began.  A good bit of elbow grease and five tubes of caulk later, it was painting time.  I chose a very pale yellow green for it all, but it was too much.  Toning it down was as easy as painting the ceiling, door and window trim white (with the palest ever peachy/pink tint).

Now for the fun parts.  For several days I found and added treasures to enhance my space.  It was as I hung my window treatment that I realized this room was originally supposed to be a bathroom.  Why else would it have an opaque bathroom-sized window?  I smiled as I wondered and whispered, “God, I think you stopped the bathroom construction because you thought, ‘Someday Bev will need a prayer room.’”

Finally, after about a week’s work, I sat down to engage.  The first day I got a straight-from-Heaven word.  I’d been praying about certain people, with a troubled and weary heart, and I asked God for “a word”.  I randomly opened the Bible to Jeremiah where my eyes went directly to a verse that emphatically answered my heart’s cry.

Day Two I got another powerful word, which developed during the next several hours and into the following day, and it set me free from a thirteen-year relationship struggle.

On the third day I filled my journal, writing as quickly as possible so as not to forget anything, with new and freeing revelations.  Since then I wander into my Prayer Closet early and late, as well as between times.  I enter knowing I have a need of something, and I come out with something to meet the needs of others.  Sometimes meeting the needs of those who love me most is just a matter of getting my joy back, and passing it on with a smile.

Pehaps you’re wondering whatever happened to the closet in the foyer, and what did I do with my linens, ironing board, etc?  The foyer closet is now my sewing station.  The ironing board and iron rest in my bedroom closet.  This is very handy for John and me, as we can step right out of the bathroom, do our ironing, and dress right then and there (I haven’t quite worked out that wrapping station bit, but I will, and quite likely as I’m sitting and dreaming in my lovely new Prayer Closet).  As to the linens, I have a new and improved setup.  It’s two cleared shelves in the utility room (they were in great need of clearing) and I had the most fun and felt ever so elegant and superior throwing out ratty linens, and folding the remaining items with perfect symmetry.

Symmetry.  That’s the word for what a prayer closet can do to your spiritual life.  Plus, it’s just so much fun!

Just say “NOOOOOOOOO!!!!” to Corona Craziness. Period. Because FEAR IS NOT YOUR FRIEND.

There were no snacks or coffee samples at a certain store in Fort Collins.  I was told very dramatically, and with a certain disapproval, “We have shut down all sample stations nationwide.”   There were no smiles, none of the usual happy shoppers.  John and I got our milk, cream, chocolate and agreed, “Let’s get outta here.”  Then the checker didn’t want me touching the sack or my own groceries.  Sigh.

On to The Cupboard, a luxury kitchen store where it was nice, pleasant and quiet (they don’t sell toilet paper or bleach).  We stayed a while, gathering our courage to try again for groceries, this time at a  country store where we hoped to find a more seasoned and hopefully less intense group of shoppers than those at our first grocery stop.

Focus on the word “group” – the store was running over at the seams.  We got a few things and again agreed, “Let’s get outta here.”  Still, it was refreshing when the young lady at the in-store bank said, ‘I’m going home, I’m turning off my phone and the TV.  I’m sick of this Corona Crap.  It’s all Fake News, anyway.”

So nice to find bits of sanity amid madness.  While so many people seem to be embracing a panic over what is actually not that different than the flu bugs we faced last year and the year before, and the year before . . . , there are plenty of us who are sitting and watching, bemused and amazed.  As one young man said to us, “It’s like the stupidest, cheesiest apocolypse story ever, only stupider and cheesier.”

Exactly.  But no editor would buy this story.  “No way,” the editor would say, “would people act this crazy over this threat.  It’s the flu.  Something we dread, something we definitely want to avoid, even something dangerous.  But still, at the end of the day it’s the flu.”

So, yes, let’s all go home and stay inside and hide.  Not from the flu, but from the tangible, dark, mucky and almost overwhelming presence of fear.  “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and love, and a sound mind” – II Timothy 1:7.

This Spirit of Fear has definitely precluded power and a sound mind in many.  Let us not join them. Rather, let us pray a binding of the Spirit of Fear, and call on God’s promise to bind in heaven what we bind on earth – Matthew 16:19 and 18:18.  Amen.

P.S.  Please consider joining me in another prayer – that He turns what the enemy intends for evil, to good.  Also, join me and so many others in reading Psalm 91 aloud day in and day out.