Michael's Journal Cache 6

I DREAMED ABOUT THE THREE. Was it a dream, or did God provide me a vision into their journey?

I saw them walk into the midst of the raging crowd, three sheep heads bowed entering a forest of wolves.

Stacey walked first, strong, an inverted triangle, like a shield, broad and steel, tall and strong. His head was up, daring an attack. He's so strong and large that the two behind him seemed more like lambs.

Magdelene came next, the middle part, a circle, the heart, weak, staggering, but beating gallantly. Her head was down, she watched her feet lifting and falling.

Last came Ram, short and square, a fire plug or the foundation that a house is built upon. His head was up and he attempted to make eye-contact with the wolves...

...but it was as if they were invisible, these three alone sheep, the wolves howled and ravaged and snapped the air with slavering fangs, confusion among them, the beasts of prey, thin and starving and ravenous, but they were blind to the sheep that entered their engorged pack.

The three sheep kept close together, Magdalene's hands upon Stacey's hips, Ram's hands upon Magdalene's slim shoulders, a little train that could puffing through the dense trees.

Was I really seeing this? Or was this just my dream, my subconscious mind dredging up my fears for those three?

* * *

Did I mention Stacey shaved off his moustache? We all laughed, his face seemed naked and bumpy, yet somehow everyone thought he was more beautiful, he looks like a little boy, almost, his haggard face now seems thin and sculpted.

* * *

LETTER FROM A SISTER IN NZ:

(we do not know how this e-mail came through as New Zealand appears to be blacked-out from all communications)

Michael, my brother in the Lord, you don't know me, but we need to speak...I need to speak...I need to know that I am not insane...I need to know that when I am awake that I am not in a dream and that when I dream I am not really awake...both are so terrifying these days I am not sure what it is that we exist in anymore...and yet I think I know too well...all those movies, those terrible movies when I was a child...they gave me panic attacks yet I tried to tell myself that it could never happen...and yet it seems it has and yet it is not the way they said it would be...the movies made it seem so simple...so black and white and yet there is no black and white, only grey or is it gray? I have not eaten for a while and I am weak...

As always, the television stations and radios broadcast what they want us to know, not what is really happeneing. New Zeland was once two islands, it is now only one, that Tsunami completely obliterated the South Island, everything in its path gone, just like the hand of God reached down and smote it from existence. Somehow, and this can only be by the divine intervention of God, but Rekohu which is an Island that lies West of the South Island was spared, as I said, it must have been the hand of God because there is no other way to explain it.

The few survivors that there were made their way to Rekohu but unfortunately most of the population has died due to Avian flu, but it is rumoured (and it IS only a rumour) that there is a faction of brothers and sisters in Christ who have left the island and are making their way to the coast of Wellington near Red Rock. From there they will make their way to us through safe houses...which are really only caves... We keep in touch with our brothers and sisters through the internet which is still up and running...thank goodness for wireless connections. This email is safe, the spy base here, Waihopai was neutralised by some brothers in Christ who managed to knock out their ability to track every piece of electronic mail, but I do not know how long for. Our brothers did well and they laid down their lives to do it...they are sadly missed but nothing in life is as it was and never shall it be again...It is our aim to keep Waihopai permanently offline, so to speak so that we may maintain our contact with those in other countries, those of us.

Have you seen the box cars there? The shackles? They take people from their homes in the dead of night, just as the Nazis did I guess, they shackle them in the box cars and they take them to the secret camps, except here they are no secret as such, we were aware of them as far back as 1998.  They hold what they call guillotine Fridays here where they take the prisoners to the town square (here they use the mall carparks) and they behead them before the people as a warning to show them what will happen to the 'evil ones' except, Michael that they are no more evil than you or I. We are not evil are we? We are the ones who know the truth, or are we merely deluded, am I deluded? Help me Michael, sometimes I feel as though I am losing my mind. The horror, it crawls into my mind as I sleep, so I rarely sleep...the screams of the people in the boxcars, women, children anyone who opposes them, and Michael, who exactly are they? Who is Wolf, this man is he a man, is he a friend how do you know that he is safe how do you know that he is not a spy for them? 

We are planning a mission to the nearest camp to us, we are in a place called Te Horo which is an hour from the camp in Pahiatua (it was used in the second world war to house refugees of the Nazi reign of terror...irony in itself...do you appreciate irony, Michael...why am I asking you? My mind rambles sometimes...I have trouble staying on topic...I go off at tangents...and sometimes I have trouble getting back...)

Our brothers in Christ in England do not seem to know what is going on at all, they know less than you or I, but what do we really know Michael, do we know anything at all...I do not know sometimes. What I do know for sure, contrary to what you have been told, there is no Sydney, it was obliterated by the water, by their sin, by their...I am not sure, I think I should go now, my mind is getting muddled and I am no longer sure of what it is that I speak. What is to become of us...what is this all about...Help me Michael, help us...

Aroha (your sister in Christ)

* * *

We do not know who it is. I don't know how she thinks I can help her. I feel so helpless myself. I wish Stacey had never put my journal online. Or was that Wolf?

We get other letters like it, from all over the world. Yes, it might have started in the U.S., but it has overtaken Britain, almost all of Europe, Russia, spreading into Asia even right now, even China has come on board, Africa and all of the Middle East. I think the Scandinavian countries bowed down first.

She asked about Wolf, who lives in the hotbed of the deadly movement. They are building a huge new "Capitol/Temple" building, monument, whatever they call it. They call it the pure joining of Government and Church, where the President will rule from. Many people are already calling him "King."

And Wolf is right there.

They have opened up Cheyenne Mountain, the new Capitol Building will be built right over it, the opening into the "top secret" institution. They are already saying it is much bigger than the populace has ever imagined, the tunnels going deep, like over a mile deep under the mountain.

Everyone is waiting for "The Return" now, of those that were taken. Some say they'll be back next month, others are prophesying that they will return with glorious bodies only after the "Great Tribulation."

The thing is, there IS a "Great Tribulation" going on, right now, like nothing the world has ever seen before. But it is what they call Preparatory Work, or "The Great Work" to cleanse the world in preparation of the Second Coming of Christ, to pound down the heathen.

They keep saying the "Antichrist" will appear at any moment and rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem -- but they used to say that the temple would be rebuilt FIRST.

Yet they cannot see that it is all happening, right now, that the body IS "The Temple of the Holy Spirit," literally the Temple of God, and that he is already sitting down there, claiming to be God. It is happening, it has been happening for many, many years. They used to call it the Prosperity Gospel, now they just say it is a "proved fact."

It is all terrifying. Just ten years ago we never could have imagined the world being where it is now, to this depth, at this level. Mindless, chaotic, and yet there IS a very real itinerary in play, there is a Master Schedule operating.

About the only thing that keeps us going is the promises. That He will cut it all short, for the sake of the Elect (and if He didn't cut it short, no one would survive what is upon us now).

The Temple Guillotines operate twenty-four hours a day. Six days a week. Saturday night at midnight, they stop. There is silence. All day Sunday hymns are sung (Saturday night they clean out the channels from the blood, they flush the fountains with chlorine, and all day Sunday the fountains spray pure water).

Sunday night, at midnight, the great blades ascend, ready, flawless in their stainless steel precision.

But it will all be over soon. It HAS to be over soon. Thank God, we will be with Him, this will all be a shadow . . . it is all a shadow now, but then it will just be the shadow of a shadow, the distant memory of darkness.

We will have light. We will live with the light, in the light -- there will be no need for the sun.

* * *

We have somewhat of a crisis here, which is a little silly, considering that the e-mails we are receiving are from the other side of the world. When we received the first e-mail from NZ, we thought it was a sister in similar trouble to us, hiding from the New World Order religious government police, but now with a second letter, everyone is in disagreement.

The prevalent worry is that these letters are from a man, playing a joke on us. That this is a hoax, since NZ isn't even online. But then others think it is at least possible that someone from NZ could bounce a satellite phone off the Australian satellites at certain times of the day, thus transferring e-mail in a long-shot, miraculous way.

A few of us think it is another aspect of Carnivore, that the One-World Religion is tracking down believers by sending out signals. This could be the case with "Aroha" because "she" mentions attacking the fascist leaders, which makes a lot of us nervous, as those connected to God at this time are not committing terrorist acts, or outright setting out to have confrontation with the murderers, those that serve the beast. Still, there is Stacey, he has gone "hand-to-hand" with many of those with the mark several times, almost like a modern-day Samson -- but Stacey himself described it as the "strong protecting the weak," and that he would never purposefully go out to attack them first, or go around like some closet patriot, doing terrorist acts, which very well could hurt innocent people, even believers (and Old Abe thinks that hurting those with the mark is still a sin, and this is NOT the time to be purposefully committing sin, but Old Abe is withdrawing, he seems very depressed, and there has been some rumor that he has been drinking heavily again).

I personally don't know what to think. I have to admit, I myself read those very bad series of novels, and the letter I received from NZ had some of the "trib force" themes in it, which DOES make me suspicious. Then again this negativity on my part probably is more based on those novels than in this letter from NZ (if it really is from NZ). Stacey still can't believe that I actually READ those books, as he received a clear warning NOT to. Rereading the first letter, all of us are concerned for "Wolf," as he was mentioned in that first letter from NZ, and it could mean that they are closing in on him in the Springs.

Joshua has begged me NOT to post this second letter from NZ, but I think if it is real it might help people in similar circumstances, around the world. Then again, if it is fake, I am being manipulated, and might in some sloppy way be providing Carnivore with a way to track us (even the name "Carnivore" causes me to shudder, especially with all the literal blood drinking that is going on now, even in the Name of Christ! people who call themselves Christian are cheering as innocent heads are being separated from innocent necks, and then they are pushing and punching forward to fill gold cups with the gushing blood, and then they drink it, still warm, claiming they are having "Communion," enjoying the "sacrifices" before Jehovah). Joshua is praying that I come to my senses and not post the letter.

Gag, even the thought of eating meat makes my tummy rumble. I cannot believe I am even writing it here.

There is no official word, as everything is controlled so closely that is released via the "news," but we see more and more people staggering in the street, white froth gushing from their mouths -- mad cow is alive and well, though people are only speaking "positivity," saying all is well, that God is blessing us. But we have heard via e-mails that earthquakes are shaking cities, that more and more people are homeless, and it is happening more and more, the earthquakes, and tsunamis.

And we HAVE heard, louder and louder, that those in power are blaming the heretics for these "attacks by God," that we would receive full blessings from God for an utopian world, that Jesus would come back with the Glorified Ones, if only the "false Christians" would cease with "flagrantly breaking the Laws of God" (meaning those that refuse to go to church on Sunday!).

I have decided I WILL include the second letter from NZ, praying all the while that it doesn't bring trouble down upon us! God save us, and all those hiding for Christ.

* * *

FROM "AROHA" IN NZ:

Michael

It is me, Aroha.

I read the rest of your online journal last night under moonlight, there is not much else to do when thirty other bodies have taken up the floor space and the only thing left to you is to sit by the fire to keep warm.

I saw what you wrote about Bobby Cilantor, he came out here some years ago and he commissioned a man here by the name of Byron Tarmatia to start a movement similar to what Bobby himself was leadingat the time.

Oddly enough Byron was made a bishop not long after...a bishop in the charasmatic movement?...I grew up in the movement and have never heard of there being a bishop, so anyway now he is Bishop Byron, people in our circles call him the Temple General.

What is so bizarre is that the Temple General now walks around in an army uniform, decorated with many medals...and yet he has never been to war...but in their circles they call him the demon slayer...we are the demons he chases down and rids the world of.

New Zealand, what is left of it, is not blacked out at all, you are merely told this in the effort to make your world seem smaller, a person with the sense of existing inside a bubble is much more easily controlled than one who believes he has the whole world at his hands...to use..to depend upon...to reach out to. 

The Temple General controls everything it seems, our government is defunct...the Temple General makes all the decisions...he rules by decrees and edicts...his own...he calls himself the annointed one...and no one else is God's annopinted but him, therefore he knows what God wants...so he espouses these ideals and everyone follows along like sheep...I should know, we used to have 44 million of them...and these sheep would jump from a cliff at the Temple General's will...he is a despicable little man...except that he is not little he is almost seven feet in height and hardly appears human at all...he is like the lamb who espouses peace and yet rules by bloodshed...I vaguely remember hearing that kind of thing in church...I don't know what part of the bible...we, the evil ones cannot get our hands on a bible for trying...we can get dynamite and guns, but not a solitary bible.

I lead my group, I am apparently the Underground General...trust me, I did not seek this position and are somewhat of an accidental leader...it all started...so long ago...and I wonder where it will all end?

Our group from Rekohu has materialised and are now at Red Rock hiding...somehow the Temple General found out about them...which means that we have a Judas in our midst...I have to flush him opr her out...and then what do I do with them? We attacked the camp at Pahiatua and we liberated eight souls...eight....and now we have nowhere to put them and nothing to feed them...every victory seems to be a curse upon us and a drain on what little precious resources we have...I can't help but think that we are going the wrong way about this...

I am thinking of striking out at the Temple General himself, I can't help but think that to rid this place of him would cause the whole thing to collapse...it would cause enough chaos long enough for us to get the upper hand...or perhaps I am delusional...I have these grandiose daydreams of two things...victory and food...and when I get caught up in each, the answers seem so simple, so achievable...then I come back to reality...to the stinking, rotting reality of this world and the place that we live in...the way that we live...the things that we do to survive...I haven't brushed my teeth in six months...I can't remember the last time I had a shower...I can't even remember the last time that I slept...sometimes Michael I would follow the Temple General off a cliff too...anything to have this over with...in my moments of absolute pure madness I am overcome with the desire to turn myself in...to let the Temple General behead me...what use is a head anyway when you are hungry...delusional...useless? I tell myself the second my head separates from my body that I will be in a field of Wisteria with Dan Fogelberg's music playing gently in the background...Netherlands or something...see the madness of it all Michael? See the madness of me and I am the Underground General and the Temple General wants my head as much as I want his...who will win...who does God back in this situation...me with my murderous intent...or the Temple General and his? He is the annointed one...makes me laugh becasue I know that God would never give over the power of life or death to one such as him...I am hungry...I am so hungry and I can think only of the million times I never completely ate a meal...I would give my life for the scraps from my own plate...see my madness...I am beyond hope in this moment...I am delusional and what scares me the most is that I far prefer my delusion to my reality...you have moments like these, I know that you do...Rachael...the coffee dump...yes I too once had a life...dreams...oh what was I saying? Where to from here Micahel..wgere do we go to fmro here..I ma tirde..I nned to sllepp...

Aroh....

* * *

So there it is. All of us at Sanctuary are a little worried, a little fretful (and I know we are not to worry or fret) over these letters. Some people have suggested that it is multiple factions of the New World Order of Christians fighting in NZ, and one of the factions is seeking to build up brownie points by out-witch-hunting the other faction. Then again, it might also be some poor woman that is suffering delusions, imagining an army about herself, with her the mighty general, battling those with the mark, the whole "Judas" comments can lead us to think so. It did ring true in the letter, about following the "Temple General" (none of us are quite sure what THAT exactly means) over the cliff, as many here have felt the same way, in fact many have left Sanctuary, thinking it safer as part of the system, being part of the Machine, instead of living apart for Him.

Of course I wish Stacey were here, as I trust him in everything. Even Ram, for that matter, knows more than quite a lot about these things, deception and double-fakes, and Carnivore. But we pray for wisdom and hope we are making the right decisions.

* * *

I dreamed I was above them last night. They are camping right outside some big city (Old Abe thinks they must be about in Indiana right now, and when I described the little whizzes of light flying around them, Old Abe said that is probably fireflies!). Ram was speaking, but I couldn't hear his words; he was very passionate, gesturing with his hands. Stacey leaned over the fire, intent on Ram's words, and for the first time since I've seen them together, they didn't seem angry or about read to hit each other.

Katya slept. She looked exhausted. I guess I should use her new name. But I for one don't especially approve of this "taking new names," I'm with Stacey there. He says he's never appreciated his name much, but it is his name, and he will keep it until Yeshua gives him a new name (Stacey often calls the Lord "Yahshua," but I myself am much more comfortable with "Yeshua," and Isaiah Bookman says "Yeshua" too, and we all have kept our own names, but we DO understand why people are attempting to "shed their old selves in preparation of the new").

Old Abe was very agitated tonight when I told him about he dream. He kept cracking his knuckles and staring into space.

Joshua is very cheerful, even more than his usual jolly self. He has accepted fully that my "dreams" are actual visions as to our beloved friends' progress, and he is just so tickled that God's Hand is in control. He still thinks, too, that I should take out the NZ letters, he has a feeling they are written by a man, and that it is all linked into Carnivore.

Me, I'm not sure. They just might be dreams. Vivid dreams. And they seem to pick up every few nights or so, and I've never dreamed in serial dreams before now. And the NZ letters just might be that, letters from another country. Still, these are strange days. And everywhere on earth is a strange country.

* * *

I sat with Wisdom tonight for several hours, just basking in his calm, peaceful manner and spirit. He is officially the oldest man in the world, at 121 years of age (of course, there have been plenty of people quite a bit older than him, even in very recent times, we just read that there is a woman 118, another two 117, two men and three women 116 and then there is a gap with the next lagger a 112-year-old lady, then there are twenty people 111 and thirty-five that are 110, and the pyramid grows wider and wider from there, with more than a thousand at 100 years old!). Then there is the bloody side.

The numbers to the guillotines, they say the average age is 22.

Twenty-two.

And there are plenty of children to balance those over 22.

It seems people are turning to God, right now, in vast numbers, and most of these people turning to God are UNDER 30.

Wisdom says that it is because it is difficult for an adult to become a child, unless that adult is over 70 years of age. There are those, too, coming out of the dark, standing up for the Lord.

And the ludicrously ironic thing is, they are standing up to the people who are shrieking: "Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!" And these furious, frothing-at-the-mouth "Christians" are calling the martyrs the worst names, using the most foul language, and the beheading continues. It is all happening, just as the Bible says it would, so clearly, and yet, of course, everyone believed just the opposite -- and there is such a strong push to the propaganda that everything is still on schedule, that they are all watching for the great antichrist to rise up, and that's why the blood must be spilt, to fight him, to weaken him. That anyday a new Jewish Temple will be constructed, they have been shouting this for several years now, and things progress as the Bible said they would, and people are blind to the Truth, as they always are.

The new "skin cancer" isn't helping much, especially since the "Righteous Ones" are the only ones who seem to be developing it. Their foreheads seem to be rotting, and they are caking on the make-up to hide it, but it smells bad too. And guess who they blame? They claim it is a lying sign and wonder from the antichrist who is about to appear, and that he is attacking God's Anointed Ones, and is being given power because the "Christians" are not faithful enough in purging those who refuse to keep the Universal Ten Commandments.

When you love the Truth, it is all so obvious, and yet when you do not love the Truth, the rage builds, the fury, the murderous lust for destroying others, torturing those that disagree with your madness.

Wisdom Messenger says that people ultimately choose their reality, and they live by it, and it has always been so. Some people have been crippled by the traditions they have learned, they have been wound about with ropes, these rituals, and they can never burst free. They are in slavery, and they talk endlessly about how Jesus broke the shackles of their slavery, and yet they are more enslaved than they could ever believe, so entangled that they can never escape. To me it seems the most deadly make-believe

Why I'm fretting over these things is because I received another of the NZ letters, and this one was the scariest one yet. Wisdom says that this person is one of those that have been bound by traditions, and has chosen a different reality, and thus sees things differently than we do, she (or he) is following the blueprints of those terrible old fantasy novels that so popularized the Rapture and so many of the other nutty beliefs that pop culture embraced with zeal. She probably 100% believes she is involved in an earthly battle against pagans and witches and Muslims and every other group, that would persecute Christianity -- all the while what this person believes to be Christianity is not even close to the Biblical notion of taking up your cross and following Christ.

Zeal. Zealots. Fanatacism.

Of course, it takes me a while to understand. To me, there is ONE reality, we are all here on Planet Earth and Bible prophecy is ticking away, like a giant clock. It's reality. I don't GET how someone else, in NZ or France or Africa or wherever, could experience a different reality.

Wisdom said a woman's name.

You probably know it. Well, you probably knew it. Back a long time ago. A poor woman. Something very bad happened to her. And she was in a coma for a long time, but was showing hopeful progress. But then her husband, her "caretaker" decided he didn't want her around any longer, he took a lover, had children with her, and after winning a huge sum of money which was earmarked for rehabilitating the poor woman in the coma, the adulterous caregiver decided in his wisdom that the poor woman could not be rehabilitated, that she should in fact be allowed to die, with dignity. And this compassion escalated to the wish for the poor woman to be killed, by starvation.

You might remember the case.

Wisdom said, you might also remember that there were two versions of reality, and people, some of them good, moral people, chose one reality over the other. The facts, the conditions, the politics were all the same, but the reality was completely different.

In the first version of reality, she, the poor woman in the coma, was still very much a person, with hope, with family that loved and cherished her, with many health experts signing on the dotted line to "prove" that she was this, this version of reality, that despite appearances, despite her lack of capability of speaking for herself, she was still a human being. That this poor woman still was entitled to rights and protection and shelter and food and affection.

In the other version of reality, she was not a she any longer; it was not a human, but some matter giving the illusion of life, poorly animated by expensive machines, with many health experts signing on the dotted line to "prove" that it was a person no more, but a thing requiring death. It once was human with hope and happiness and love, but now was a thing without an active brain, and it became very important to this version of reality that the thing be starved to death, that the expensive machines be disconnected, that the thing be allowed to perish "with dignity," though why a thing would require dignity not even these believers in this reality could ever quite articulate. They just "felt" that the poor thing must die.

I grew very angry with Wisdom. How dare he reduce her to these lies! She was a person, she smiled, she reacted to the voices of her family, there were bonified physicians who said there was hope for her! You can't throw out all that reality, that truth, because a horny Catholic doesn't believe in divorce! Because a creep wants to keep money for himself! Because a lot of creeps will do anything, sign anything, for the sake of their filthy politics! They should have taken the different wicked "judges" and starved them to death!

I was shaking. I thought I might faint.

Wisdom smiled at me, and patted my hand. It is good, he said. My reaction. Because it is my reality. I am willing to live for it, and die for it. As fully well does the other side. He looked off into the distance, and he was so sad, looking every day of his ancient life.

"If you do not love the truth," Wisdom Messenger said, "God allows you to sink into the very worst deceptions. There is no safety for you, you are lost in a dark world, and reality can be absolutely anything. And it always becomes the very worst of anything."

His voice is still strong, like a normal man's, still deep, and his eyes flash a lot of steel for someone who has lived about two ordinary lifetimes.

Isaiah Bookman, who sat there the whole time spinning one of his boiled eggs, put his old hand on top of Wisdom's hand, which was still on top of mine. I almost laughed, two ancient gaffers and a midget, all for one and one for all!

"So much of the present trouble," Isaiah said, peering deep into my eyes, "crept in, quietly. I remember people who called themselves Christian, forwarding e-mails about the Holocaust, claiming it was fake, that Jews invented it, it was all a lie. These were Christians, mind you, angry Christians, gritting their teeth."

"I know, I know," I said. "But how could people be so stupid! With such proofs, from so many different countries -- all of them countries that hated Jews, even! So much photographic proof, film, eyewitness accounts! So many people who ceased to exist!"

"Ah, listen to Wisdom, listen to Wisdom," crooned Isaiah in that particular Yiddish croon he does, as if he is singing lullabies to babies. "It is reality, and what you accept as reality. Some of these people who denied the Holocaust, and starved a poor woman to death, some of them are wicked, evil people, there is no debating it. And yet some of them are sheep who follow lying shepherds, innocent sheep who have succumbed to deception, delusion, because they have not a love for the truth..."

We sat in silence, probably an hour. I think Wisdom took a nap. But Isaiah was awake, I could hear him weeping, quietly. I didn't know what to say. So I sat in silence.

* * *

I have decided. I will post the NZ letter, hoping, hoping, hoping that there is a real person on the other side of the text, on the other side of the world, I hope and pray that there is a real person there, one that may yet be reached with the Truth. One that may yet Quicken in these days of death.

If you are real, I tell you, there are no freedom fighters. There are only evil people killing evil people. If you are real, I tell you, you can't save anyone from prison, or from guillotine, because this world is not going to recover, it is not going to get back on its feet like it did after World War II and the Holocaust.

If you are real, I want you to know, there is nothing to be afraid of. These are shadows. Do you understand? What you think is real, it is not real. Hang on. Overcome. Remain.

Hang on. Overcome. Remain.

That is your job. Praise God, worship the Lamb, and receive His seal. Do not sit around worrying about antichrists or marks -- as the days pass there will be distinctly two groups, and two groups only. Those that have the mark, and they shall be overwhelmingly numerous, these numbered ones. And there will be those with the Seal of God. Nobody else. This is the time to choose which side you will be on. Running from "marks," from microchips and bar codes and tattoos will get you absolutely nothing, freeing people from prisons or guillotines will mean absolutely nothing. Grab Him, the Only Anointed One, Yeshua our Moschiach. Do not let Him go.

That is the only reality. That is your only hope.

I know you think I am crazy for writing this. That I don't know what I'm talking about. But as the days pass the Truth is more and more evident.

Throw your weapons away. They mean nothing. They only lock you to those you fear. Soon, if you do not run for the mountains, your enemies will be one head, and you will be the other head of a two-headed monster, ever attempting to kill the other, ever killing only yourself. Until one day you will look up and see a solitary black cloud in the sky, a smudge on reality, a shadow -- but that cloud will grow, and become brighter and brighter, and you will learn that what you have clung to is not reality, but shadow, and the Light will fill the sky, brighter than your eye can contain, until you look away and finally flee for the mountains, only now it will be too late, and you will cry for the mountains to bury you, to hide you from the Truth filling the sky, where every eye cannot miss the Light, the Light, the Light!

This is truth. TRUTH. Love it. Grab it. Hold onto it, even if you hate it. Even if you can't understand it. Pray to God for wisdom, ask Him to soften your heart to Truth, His Truth, only His Truth. And open your heart to Him. Tell Him you want Him to KNOW YOU, through and through, every miserable part of you, everything you hate and fear the world to know. Bare it all to Him.

This is all I can offer you, Sister.

* * *

FROM "AROHA" IN NZ:

Michael

I read what you said about us here in New Zealand, I understand your cynacism, I understand your suspicion, I too would be very wary of what communications I took to be authentic.

I must say that I am somewhat surprised that you would lack an understanding of my need to strike out at the Temple  General, but let me tell you why I battle with this and please do not think me a Judas trying to install herslef in your midst, I could hardly do that anyway, I am thousands of miles and oceans away from your reality as you are from mine.

I seek the Temple General's head as he seeks mine because I am a traitor to him, yet he is the biggest traitor of them all, I did not introduce myself properly, I am Aroha Tarmatia, the Temple General is my father.

I had a husband and I had children, I no longer have either, they too were taken away in the middle of the night never to be seen again, I know now that they are no longer amongst the living. I was there, the Temple General made sure I saw what happened to my children and my husband. They splashed the pictures all over the television and the news papers...just to show that the Temple General is so righteous that he will not even tolerate or forgive disbelief in his Godly status even amongst his own family....if he will act righteously with his own family then he will act righteously with yours.

It is not biblical to want to take the head of anyone to want to strike out at anyone, but I am human and I suffer the same frailties as everyone else. I feel muderous intent and other times I feel pity, I am constantly caught up in the battle to survive (for what?) and the battle to surrender.

We do not strike out at anyone to deliberately hurt anyone, but we do try to liberate our brothers and sisters in Christ from the monstrous madness of my father's machinery...his beliefs, his twisted version of God.

If our brothers and sisters are shackled and condemned then we liberate them, what else are we to do, sit here and survive doing nothing? What would be the point of that?

I will not go out quietly, I will not go out like a ship in the night, I will not sit back while innocent people are put to the guillotine.

I do not advocate the killing of anyone, in the name of God or otherwise and yet Michael, what the Temple General has done is enough to make me...I don't even know anymore.

When I was a child I used to see angels, I knew that they were there, watching me, protecting me, helping me...all of my brothers are in the temple, they are faithful to the Temple General and yet I could never grasp what he was doing, what he was saying always rang through to me as dangerous and untrue...I knew my God to be a loving God, not a manipulater....yet the Temple General acted like God would do what he demanded everytime and the Holy Spirit was the tool of my father the Temple General. God did not bless people, the Temple General blessed them with God's blessing...I know that this sounds like madness...but I speak the truth, this is what he did and I always knew it to be wrong. That is why I would not follow him and that is why he took my husband and my children....I am not traitor to you, nor am I a danger...I risk my life every time I send an email, EVERY TIME.

But I need to know that we are not the only ones trying to survive this and not to become a part of it....

I hold not interest in ferreting Wolf out...what purpose would there be to me doing that? I merely wondered who he was, now that I know I shall ask no more of him.

Why do you not respond?

Perhaps it is you that is the trap? Perhaps you have put the journal online to trap me? Perhaps there is a satellite zeroing in on us as I write? However I have prayed about this and I believe that you are indeed one of us....we too discuss your reality and it is not too different to ours...

Aroha

* * *

Peace, "Aroha." I cannot help you. Turn to Him that CAN sustain you, that CAN save you! Hopefully we will finally meet, someday very soon, not in this land of Shadows, but in the Reality. For this life is not reality, it is only the Shadowlands. Soon we shall see Him, face to face, the glass darkly will be gone, and then we shall be real, as He is real, we shall be like Him.

* * *

Talked to Isaiah. I am very curious about what he calls the "Holocaust Reductionists," who primarily considered themselves to be Christian. They were also white supremist, although I am not sure why I am talking about them in the past tense, as they are alive and well, and now their lies have become the "established truth."

I was too young to remember their e-mail campaigns. I do know that when the law attempted to crack down on these blasphemous liars, they started claiming that they were being "persecuted for Christ."

Isaiah says they first started claiming that the Holocaust wasn't really as bad as history said. The whole "Jewish Plot" thing, AGAIN.

You know the "Jewish Plot" stupidity is so much like the way people used to say "War for Oil" and "Blood for Oil" while the actuality was that there never was any oil bonanza, it was all verbal garbage, mindless propaganda, started by people like that Jabba the Hut guy that used to make "documentary" movies, but even he admitted that his documentaries were propaganda.

Think about it. If Jews really did rule the world, would we be trampled on by every country in the world? Persecuted by every single Government? The millenia of pogroms, ethnic cleansing. People think Hitler had an original idea, to wipe out our people, but the fact is it was happening in Russia and Hungary and Poland and Germany and all over the world long, long before there ever was a nutjob named Hitler.

Can people really be that stupid, to believe that Jews secretly rule the world?

But the concept of a "Warrior Jesus" isn't new either, His own closest friends, some of them, wished desperately for Him to be a conquering warrior. The Ku Klux Klan, the Neo Nazis of whatever stripe, the Warrior for Christ of today, all of them desperately wish for and worship a bloody god, a false god, a false christ.

I'm sorry, but I'm wandering.

People will never cease to surprise you. With their violence. With their shut-mind policies. I still remember when protestors were marching for "Nukes for Iran!" Now everyone sees how that all turned out, the nightmare of a people who fondly wish the annihilation of another people, and what it gets them in the end. Of course, it'll be the same for the murders pulling the levers of the blades in the "temples."

Vengeance is mine, thus sayeth the Lord.

* * *

Some of us will be martyrs, for a better Resurrection. I remember when Old Abe said that. Have I mentioned that he is gone? Our beloved Old Abe, he left in the middle of the night.

He said that he didn't believe. He left a note. It didn't say much, just that he didn't think he ever believed.

I can't think of anything more to say, not tonight. Possibly not ever...

* * *

I am a little depressed. Well, probably quite a lot depressed, it is just that what I consider to be depression, today, is nothing like the black despair I experienced just six months ago, or a year ago, or really, the very real ghost that accompanied me throughout my whole life, like a twisted twin at my side. Or not like a ghost, or a twin, but a malformed identical twin that never quite developed sufficiently to separate from own body, and protruded from my back, three fingers and a kneecap, always there, almost a person, but just sadness, pain, suffering.

I don't know, am I making sense?

Rachel forced me to sit down here under the weeping willow tree above the fountain, and write in my watch. Funny, when I think about it, all the people who have left a part of themselves in this watch, this chunk of metal, and how they all complained about typing on this tiny keyboard! And to me, I don't know, it just fits my fingertips.

This is beautiful, here in Sanctuary, what people put together, on the fly, coming together as a community in Christ. The nurses and gardeners and carpenters and plumbers and cooks and architects and writers and musicians and janitors and doctors and homeless people, why couldn't have people come together like this in normal times?

I know this is just a foretaste of what Heaven is going to be like, the unity we share, the love we experience, I mean I don't think I ever even understood what AGAPE was, until I came here. Love direct from God, love that rebounds and richochets and shines out of us like beams of light, striking those about us, and they absorb it and immediately reflect it back, flashlights, bright, glowing, like that song, "and soon all those around, can warm up in its glowing," or something like that, I can't really remember.

We do a lot of singing here. There is a lot of hand holding. Hugs. And you know, when I think about it, there is not much sexual tension. Nobody really talks about it, but I think possibly we are suffering less and less temptation, as the Tribulation grows all about us in the world.

You probably have recognized that I'm not quite so cluttered down in within myself, in this dark space that has always been my body, this prison of flesh. Now I seem to hover all about myself, in thought anyway, I'm not talking about astral projection or any of that New Age stuff. Just more that I see others, and feel for them, rather than hide from others, and feel myself.

We all remind each other, almost daily, not to get too comfortable here. That what we think of as "Sanctuary," is just a bubble of protection. This is not our home. We might have to flee at any moment, and I know when the time comes, we will run toward the mountains, though of course it might just be a token flight, more to honor what Yeshua commanded, than to actually seek to save ourselves.

There are some of us afraid here, but fear is really lacking. It seems that the worse the world gets, the more peaceful we are, the less fear we feel, or that forms within us.

Those letters from NZ, they kind of brought these things to the forefront. Odd, isn't it, that there could actually be other groups in the world, living their own separate realities, hunkered down afraid, seeking to kill others, hungry, cold, so focused on this world and so removed from Heaven as to hardly believe it exists.

But then that has always been the way it was with Christians, they said "God called him home" or "he is in Heaven" or "they have gone to be with the Lord," and yet they didn't believe an iota of it, they were more terrified of death than the most common peasant who looked up and worshipped the sun. People attempting to generate "faith," or what they believed was faith, by talking. People attempting to talk themselves into faith!

So sad, tragic. Blind leading blind.

But our God is such a wonderful provider, such a wonderful keeper and protector. Sometimes I think how unfair it is for me to be alive now, in these exciting times, so close to REALITY, while others are focused on how terrible it is, how fearsome, baring their teeth in snarls, grasping guns, worshipping the chaos.

Joshua says: "Don't worry about Old Abe. It's not over yet. As long as he's alive, there is always hope."

I believe that. But do you know what is ruling in the world right now? The belief that there is absolutely no choice in the matter. That the Sovereign God designed a huge puppet show, and that only some are blessed with salvation, only some God loves, while all others He hates, He writhes in fury, ready, willing and able to crush His creation, this sad puppet people who were created from the beginning for eternal torment, judged on absolutely nothing they did, no sin committed!

The way people imagine God, I can hardly allow myself to think about it.

An angry God.

It's funny, but I hear it so often, not here in Sanctuary, but out in the world, that God is angry, that He has great wrath upon the world. That the only way to survive His wrath is through tricking Him!

Seriously. The current belief is that when God looks at a sinner, if they have said a few magic words, that when God looks at the sinner, He will think He is looking at His own Son, and will turn His wrath aside!

I'm not talking about metaphors here, but what the religious experts are teaching.

Am I rambling? As thoughts occur to me, I type them in. What is to become of this watch?

Do you know, I do not even know how Wolf gets the files from my watch. But I check it, and usually within three weeks of me writing in this journal, somehow Wolf gets it up onto the Internet.

Remind me, next time I write here, to write about the Manna. That should be interesting.

* * *

It's been about a week since I last wrote here and terrible things have happened, and you know, it's difficult to glimpse a positive spin on everything. Not on this. I can't write much because all of our Sanctuary is going out in all around the neighboring communities, we're trying to help in about a ten-mile radius, we're trying to get people out of the rubble, and we're lining up the dead. Amazingly enough, Sanctuary is intact, so that's a positive.

We thought it was an earthquake, for a while, though in my wildest imaginings I would never have thought an earthquake to be like THAT. I guess we always thought of earthquakes as "shaking," you know, everything shakes, and in a big earthquake everything shakes BAD.

This was nothing like that. Plus, Colorado isn't known for earthqkes; yes, we've had them, but we are not California. What this was like, was like living on a giant carpet, and someone picked up one end of the carpet and gave it a good snap, like trying to snap the carpet like a gym towel, like when guys used to flick me with their towels, only this would be a giant lifting a whole carpet and snapping the the end.

There just isn't much left, of Denver, Colorado Springs. Colorado, I guess. We haven't heard, but we all think that Cheyenne Mountain must be gone. I don't mean the giant temple, or the "hidden city" behind it, but the whole mountain, that and Pikes Peak too.

Rumor has it that volcanoes have been set off all over the state, but none close to where we can see, though the world is filled with strange, loud grumblings. It is the eeriest thing any of us have ever heard, like the world has major indigestion. It's been about five days since the world shook, as we are calling it, and we don't know what happened, only that things have changed.

The sky is moving very fast. High up in the cumulus clouds, or higher maybe, flattened out clouds are streaking past, like there is a jetstream up high in the sky. Some think that the world was knocked off its access, but most think this is more local, something affecting this area, or most likely most of the United States.

We can't look up for very long, when we do, we get dizzy. I do, anyway. Joshua is his usual cheerful self (I don't know how he does it). Rachel does not talk, she's mainly helping the wounded they bring in, with me. Joshua is out helping clear rubble and find those that are still alive.

I'm on a break right now. Supposed to be sleeping. BUt I thought I would annotate, some.

I don't know why I keep this journal. To begin, it was all about me, and now it is all outside of me, and so there's nothing I can do to affect what the journal says. Before at least I could whine. I'm supposed to be sleeping right now, did I already say that? I'm too tired to check back and do any editing, it must be full of typos, but I'm so tired I might never sleep again.

Rachel is snoring. We had thought she might be pregnant. But she isn't, and the way the world is, right now, and probably for years to come, I suppose it is best. Though we are both very sad about it. We haven't exactly talked aobut it, the miscarriage, but there are such big things going on that I don't know that personal sadness counts for much anymore. When you pull a family of seven out of the smoking ruins, andd only one of them is alive, you have to set your own sadness aside.

I suppose we are going to have time for sadness, soon. People don't think about sadness that way, in Heaven. They think about floating around and smiling and all that. I guess riding on lions. But we know there is going to be intense sadness in heaven, true grieving, and it will only be AFTER the thousand years that God will wipe away the tears from our eyes. I imagine I will have a lot of tears.

I find myself praying for my parents, quite a lot. I'm not sure why. I never knew my father, never even met him, and I was told some pretty bad things. And I DID know my mother, just a little, and those bad things nobody ever had to tell me. But I have a yearning for them. I haven't seen my mother since I was about four, they took me away from her permanently when I was in the hospital all those months, and when I came out I never heard from her again.

But I am praying for them. That somehow things changed in their lives, that somehow God reached them, back in the past. I have the strongest feeling that both are dead. But that God is much bigger than time. And that to God 100 years ago is no different from a 1000 years from now, that to God a day is a thousand years and a thousand years is a day, that God is outside of time.

I'm probably delirious, but I ache for my Mama, and my Papa. Stacey kind of filled in for both of those, in a way. He was my angel, and my father, and my brother. He's gone. I only hope he is alive.

But now I feel like sitting down in the smoking garbage and screaming out for my Mama. Just wail out like a baby: "Mama! MaaaaaaMAAAAAAA!" I'm being silly. A big baby. God has done so much for em. I don't have nothing to compain about.

But I want my Mama to be there, and my Papa. I want to meet them and throw my arms about them and tell them that I always loved them. I awnt them to say: "I t worked, because you bprayed, God sent someone into our lives, it seemed so by accident, and yet God has revealed to us that is was your pryaers, Darling Michael our Beloved Son! Your prayers mattered to God Who is so big and gracious and loving and so outside of time or timing or human understanding, we are here for eternity with you Son!"

I know if I admitttted anything like that in the little church that Josh and I used to teach Sunday School at, I know they probably would have thrown things at me. Stop inventing God! they would scream at me. God isn't nice. He's terrible, and wrathful. And parents like yours deserve to burn and scream forever and for ever amen!

We used to talk about the "cults" in that little church, me and Joshua and all the brothers and sisters. And we had no inkling that we WERE the cult, that we were worse off than any JW or LDS or any of them, they were all better off than us, because we knew the Light and yet rejected it, we chose darkness and called it light.

I must not be making sense. I sense not must making be.

Why was the road crossed by the chicken?

Stacey told me that one, it was a "writer's joke," he called it. When you write in the passive voice, or kind of structure your sentences bakcwad. A lot of what STacey said comes to mind nowadays, I think about him a lot and I only holp that he is alive an well . i