I am still planning to upload evidence but I haven't gotten to it yet. I will put all these other posts into draft form when I can get back to it. I am also planning to make more video clips, and I've been fine, but I haven't done this because I've actually been thinking about my son. A LOT. My son Oliver, is a torture victim, and the evidence is on his face, so of course, I think about him.
For the last couple of days I wondered where the Holy Spirit was a few times. It's not that it wasn't there, but I remember, I bought this large canister of vodka, which I haven't opened, but I want to make liquors for cooking or hot drinks with. I don't drink really. I have a ton of milk thistle tincture and I'm not sure what to do with it, because I don't feel like it's the right time for me to be drinking, even occasionally in my home. Alcohol is vegan, and I have nothing against it, but I've just sensed it is not right for me right now. I used some cooking sherry in a mushroom soup (a huge pot) and boiled it over 45 minutes, but that's it.
I was laughing to myself over a few things when I got the vodka and then after that day, this calm before the storm feeling set in. And, at some point, I got a weird feeling like I wanted to sleep close to my parents because something, intuitively, was sort of scaring me. I don't know what. I was tortured pretty much every day, not super extreme, but enough to affect my life. But I think some good things happened during this time, definitely, I don't know what, or about all things, but I'm sure. For me spiritually, it was kind of a weird lull and then not and then lull and then not.
I also remembered something about knitting, which I think I've written about before, a long time ago, but it came back up. I cast on, with one knitting needle and then I suddenly remembered, this is exactly what I did as a little girl. I was knitting backwards. Someone gave me a knitting needle and a ball of yarn and showed me how to cast on and knit the first parts and I started up and I was knitting backwards, in the opposite direction. So no one would show me how to do it correctly and I quit. It happened again, I was knitting backwards and then I asked my Mom if she could show me the correct way and she said (a few days ago) that she'd see if a woman from church could show me. So it hasn't happened. And that's when I remembered, this is the exact same thing that happened in, like 1988 or earlier (I was about 9 years old), when I a little girl, and then it was about the lady from church and I think then, either they never turned up or I declined. This time I wanted to learn so I could make a hat for my son, and maybe other family, and nothing.
So I wrote to my aunts, "Since when is the U.S. military and CIA interested in obstructing my attempt to learn to knit?" I mean, it's the exact same thing. And I also recall that when someone showed me, it was almost secretive, like here, watch me, and then nothing after that. It wasn't a crochet hook, I don't think, I think it was a knitting needle but I remember it was just one thing, not two. It was possibly a crochet hook.
Around this time, present-day, I noticed a quiet lull.
Then I found a few interesting things in scripture. Tonight there was something sort of interesting, but only because maybe I am imaginative. I looked all over town for more horseradish because the Kosher kind I got wasn't as hot as I like, so I wondered (I was just tortured again, to the top-back right side of my head, at 9:50 p.m.) if there was fresh horseradish or another kind that didn't have milk or eggs. There wasn't so I got another one bc I'm half out already.
I wrote a short part of a story to my son, very simple, definitely nothing to publish, and just for him, and wrote that this mother and her son were in front of the fire sleeping and then they heard a loud noise and woke up and it was the embers on the coals so they put more wood on the fire and went to sleep. I wrote this to him at night. Then I moved the horseradish bottle from my couch and dropped it over the rail to the bench in front of the kitchen table and it was a loud solid noise. When I turned my head that way, the big jug of vodka I had just bought, which I had set on the rail-ledge, was dark, because all of the lights in the house were off, except for one small one farther away or maybe it was from the lights of my parents house because I saw this red glow in the bottle, like embers of a fire.
I thought that was a coincidence mainly, because I had just spontaneously written about embers on coals of a fire, and this loud noise made by them, and then I dropped this bottle which made a loud wood sound, and turned my head, and it looked like low flames or like embers on coals. The label wasn't facing me, so the red in the label on the other side was picked up by light somewhere and it made it look like fire inside the jar. There were glints of orange, possibly from picking up from a book somewhere maybe. It looked fire color.
So then I was in the sauna after this, and I decided to read Numbers since I started there but no point without getting name definitions. So I turned to another section in Numbers randomly and started reading, and it was about God telling Moses who the chosen person was. Someone named Korah (?) did something wrong and there was a chosen person for something or other, and this person was going to show up by the incense. Something about "this person will be drawn near to Me". Something like that. And then, there was some kind of scene about taking incense and burning it and then first an earthquake happened and people fell through somehow and then it was fire upon those with the incense, so that all that was left was incense wands lying in embers and coals. So they took the incense wands and hammered them out into a sheet to put over something in the temple.
Anyway. There was a small theme, it seemed, but I'm sure it was mainly due to my imagination. What I write to my son, is nothing at all that's great. I know it myself. I don't think it's important in any way. I just happened to notice one thing after the other because of all the coal and embers imagery, and loud noise, with my story, and then in reality, and then again in the sauna. And at my parents house too, but I tried to help bring in wood to help my mother and she didn't want me to assist and it hurt my feelings. For whatever reason, it was like a dart into my heart. Terrible that that rhymes but sword sounds too "mmph". It was after this that I went to my place and cried and then wrote to my son, the jar made a sound and I saw "embers" in a bottle of unopened vodka, and then I read about coals and embers in the sauna.
Sort of odd, but I don't understand what the point is. What I don't like is how some in this country won't leave people who just want to be spiritual, alone. I want to do other things too,but I mean, they tamper and try to mix up spiritual gifts with machinery and torture of people. I don't like it.
Look at my son's photos. Living proof.
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