One of my favorite things to do as a kid and as an adult is to build forts. My older sister and I spent a summer secretly working on a fort in the woods behind our cabin 11 miles up the Unalakleet river. We did our chores each day and when we got play time we continued building our secret fort. It was tall enough to stand up in. We used willows for the frame and intertwined smaller branches for the walls, then filled those in with moss and grass. It was our masterpiece that summer. Then my dad found it. He said we did such a good job that it had to be torn down. Otherwise animals would use it for their very own home and it was too close to our cabin where we spent our summers gathering food for winter. After that we didn’t build such good structures near where we dwelled. On the beach in Unalakleet I taught my older sons when they were young to build awesome forts. Sturdy and beautiful, something so cool the kids in town did not want to destroy it but enjoy it rather. Duke and I build winter forts with snow and soon we will build our forts in summer as well. This is a good skill to have, maybe when you get stuck out in the woods, at least you are capable of building a temporary shelter to stay warm. Even during play life long lessons are learned. A lesson does not need to be a strict lesson looked on in dread, a lesson of love can be a lesson durning play.
Realize, there are no powers that be, only the power that is, His name is Jesus. What you call big brother, is not big, only made to believe that through an image that is now shattered. People, every day common people, who lift each other up in prayer, wherein lies the power. People, created in God’s image, creeds and nations come together to form one image, His image. It does not matter the color of the skin, when a skin is slashed, regardless of it’s color, cells come together to heal.
Last year I was asked by someone who claimed to have royal blood, if I had to choose to be a peasant or a queen which would I choose. The answer, for me was simple, a peasant. Anyone who thinks they can rule over man, is a simple mind indeed. Anyone who claims they rule over man, is insane. When you break free of the chains of your past, that is liberty. We pray for liberation, redirection and redemption.
I once had a dream in High School. Jesus was in the form of a cloud sweeping over the earth. Picking up the select for the rapture. I raised my hand and was being raised, then when my relief was gone I could not continue, I was let gently back down. In my heart I was willing to give up my spot for someone so wicked on this earth that they did not want Jesus. My spot was willingly given to someone who refused to be saved and I did not understand. If all that were chosen were willing to stay to help the lost, that is what I felt was my calling. A feeble mind will pray for the rapture to come sooner than later for they do not understand the souls at stake and lack compassion. The passion of the Christ is the willing select ready to give up what is promised to them for the evil of the evils of this earth and in doing so rid the earth of the most wicked so that others may have a chance at receiving grace and love that is Jesus. When a soul is lost all of the heavens weep, when a soul is found, all of the heavens rejoice. So let us rejoice and be glad in Him. Hope will never be lost.
Imagine the billions of people and animals that have come before us since the time of creation. Everything is unfolding in accordance with God’s will. The factors at play are free will of man. The playing field is the “apple of His eye” that is Earth. There is no home away from home for this is our God given home for now and for eternity. Man is tasked to love God and in doing so it takes respect for the gifts He has given us. The most important being His Son Jesus. The wind is like the Holy Spirit swishing and swaying as directed by the Father. The sun and it’s rays will represent our Creator, Giver of life. The Universe filled with unfathomable amount of galaxies, stars, planets and cosmos, each representing those that have come before us. The closer the star the further in time it has come from, the further the star the more recent the soul transformed. The vast array of God’s creation displayed for all to see. The dark matter in space is just that, dark. A black hole will consume that what is good when a battle is lost. Earth being the battlefield with every soul of the greatest importance. The core of the earth being hell bent on being fed the lost souls daily, ever burning and consuming. There is no escape plan man can conceive to make it out alive. It is only in the mind of man to think that we can fly out to the heavens and survive. It is only in the mind of man to say the earth is doomed. It is only in the mind of the utter evil beings on this plane to think that they will receive heaven on earth when they attempt to wipe out our ever awakening kind. To be awake is to know there is a God who left us in top order of the image of Him in hopes of choosing the right path. Every path will lead to death, your soul being will either burn for eternity or gleam in the heavens for all to see. My heaven on earth is spreading hope and love in a world full of dark and decay. Shooting stars are like the free spirit, able to observe the heavens over and over. The loss of life in America off of abortions alone is sheer selfishness and a generation made to believe that it is ok. The children suffering around the world is disheartening to degrees unfathomable. The loss of life taken by other life, even more so. When life is what our Creator has hopes of us choosing love over death. To think that He needs us having devastating consequences, it is us who needs Him. Analogy of life as I perceive it.
We rise, we stand in unison, we Indigenous. Our Creator will hear our war cries, to use Him against us is the work of the evil one. Actions speak louder than words and a word is just that, words. We act on love for there is no other way. -Tuvramu
I remember the first time I used a computer. It was a behemoth of an apple. Our school had three that the entire school shared. The game I was able to play was a bear game that was on a floppy disk, the actual floppy disks that flopped, not the hard cased floppy disks. I remember each new computer as the years kept going. A fad of gateway giants, the see through apple computers were my favorites and eventually our small school had its very own computer lab. I loved Oregon trails and Mario typewriter, where you had to type as fast as you could with making the least amount of mistakes. I was very tech savvy and at one point I could hack into systems I wasn’t allowed into, but I felt bad for doing something I wasn’t supposed to so I stopped doing it. If I ever felt bad about something I would tell on myself just so I would no longer feel bad. In the sixth and seventh grade we had the same teacher, when usually one teacher taught the same class every year. He was awesome and one winter my sister and cousin convinced me to egg his door. I wasn’t sure why but I listened. I told him that I egged his house in the journal he had us write each day. He asked what were the worst things and best things we had ever done. I was very honest and I like re-reading what I wrote so long ago. The best story was the time two other girls and I killed a chicken. It was a victim of the pecking order from the other chickens that our class raised as a class project. One girl was brave, one laughed the whole time and I cried and screamed so hard I almost peed my pants. Growing up in isolation did not mean we were disconnected from the rest of the world because we grew up right along with dial-up internet and the advancement of technology. I really liked the school atmosphere and I loved my teachers or at least most of them. I was a fan of constructive criticism because I knew it was a form of people helping me become a better person. I liked going to the library as a young girl and picking an encyclopedia just to flip through and look at pictures, if I found something interesting I read about it but mainly I liked pictures. Then I found the National Geographic section of the library and I delved in looking at spectacular areas of the world. My favorite childhood book was “Danny and the Dinosaur.” There was something magical about it to me and I liked the adventure they went on. Our school had a basement and I never liked going down there, it simply gave me the heeby jeebies. I absolutely loved art class and wood shop classes. I liked to help people my whole life. I would write about carrying garbage for elderly ladies or picking up trash around our small village. I made up games at the playground that became games passed down throughout the years. My cousin and sister told me to slap a girl at the playground and I listened. I felt very bad for doing it because she had braces and I hit her pretty hard. I apologized and became her friend for a few months. I liked having different friends and trying to befriend so many people I spread myself a little too thin. The village life could be a great thing. The attentiveness of the teachers to each student and the encouragement of community members always made me smile. The village I come from is like no other. People help people and care for each other, or at least that’s what I’ve witnessed my school years. I didn’t like lunch time so much because I didn’t like finding a place to sit because I didn’t want to choose which friend I would sit with that day. I moved where I sat most days and a lot of times I tried to sit by people who nobody else would sit by. I felt misunderstood most of my life because nobody thought about life the way I wanted or expected them to. My first pen pal asked if I would like to come to America one day and after he asked that I never wrote to him again because Alaska was a part of America. I literally remember so many nicks and nacks of my life because I felt like my whole life was worth remembering and allowing memories to fade was never an option for me. I like interpreting my own dreams and remember a lot of dreams my sister told me that she had growing up. My favorite was her scary dream of wolves. She dreamt we were passing a family identical to us seven family members mother, father and five children. They needed help and my dad stopped to help them. Although they looked like us my sister saw a tail on one of the look alike family. They were wolves in human skin that resembled us and she begged my dad to come back to the boat. He did and we pushed off the bank and as soon as we did that they ripped off their skin and revealed their true identity which were wolves. I liked the part where my dad listened and that my sister saved us by being keen with her sight. Her dream was from when we were so very young. I write the most significant dreams I’ve had in a dream journal and I keep those to myself for the most part. Life is so interesting to me as it should be to everyone. We are all blessed to be chosen to live the lives we live and one must never forget that it is a blessing to be alive!
The illicit profits of slavery is 150 billion dollars each year. In the world today people are sold as slaves. God intervenes when His workers intervene. To not raise awareness is ungodly, to turn away and pretend this isn’t happeneing is illicit. I have been receiving emails for 16 years from http://www.freetheslaves.net and at one point in my life I was able to contribute to their cause. Now I offer my prayers because we do what we are capable and then we become more than capable. We can’t leave it up to governments to make the change we as a race are capable of making. Dig deep, what is it that these slaves represent? A lot is blood diamonds, something that looks pretty but is abundant and the price is a lie. Where does the cocoa you consume come from? Family farms or from the backs of children living in slavery? Being an informed consumer, changing spending habits to help create a better world. Each individual is tasked to live a life loving God, how can you claim to love God yet turn your head and not attempt to do what you are capable? We pray today for those living a life of slavery, being a slave to debt is a life of slavery, the only difference is you are not being physically beaten to death.