Texas Jeff
Osoyoos, BC
(Border town trafficking hub)
Blessings, dear readers. Praise Yah for his mercy.
I'm praying for all who are coming to this little well. I'm grateful. I pray that Yeshua visits you, wherever you are, as he did with the woman at the well, exposing her secrets, that she may drink his living water for healing and never thirst again. (John 4) Nothing can be healed unless it's first brought into the light. Hallelujah.
This testimony is not for everyone.
Self-Portraits, Age 20, "Esperanza"
Below are words that saved my life, on my 7 year long exodus out of the cult of modern Christianity and satanic ritual abuse in these synagogues of satan. It's by Yeshua's saving mercy, that I stand to testify, for his glory and the deliverance of the lost sheep of the house of Israel.
If my testimony can extend a hand of hope to someone who is in captivity, suffering and afraid, then I pray that you will hear the voice of the real Father, Yahweh, Elohim, Abba, running urgently, to your screams and cries -- the silent ones of utter hopelessness, especially.
"La-la-la", Age 19
You are not invisible to him.
You are not refuse to him.
You are loved and wanted.
He is the deliverer, Redeemer and the healer.
There is nothing more powerful than the living Word of Yahweh, who loves and extends himself towards the broken, desperate and contrite. Contrite means to be literally ground to dust, to the finest possible point of powder.
Zombie, Age 18
The blood of the Lamb can wash you clean and resurrect all that was destroyed and stolen. That's why He gave his only begotten Son -- for your own precious life and dire need. That He -- Almighty God, may answer it.
May this be the end of despair, torment, hopelessness, loneliness and confusion . . . And the beginning of your exodus into healing, peace and the PROMISE of your inheritance through faith in the God of Israel. He is still good, even if it has felt like the opposite.
It was not my plan to share my personal testimony online. Several years ago, Yeshua told me that the time would come. Despite my initial reticence, I rejoiced in humility, that he might use me at all. Since discovering how grievously common and "unspecial" my testimony is, I've taken up the deep lament in Lamentations 2 through 4, regarding the church and those who are being slain there, by the wrong spirits. This is the heart of Yeshua.
My witness is not for everyone. But, it is for someone.
Psalm 103 - The Rescue
Yeshua is faithful. Thanks for reading.
Inside the
Upside
Down,
baby’s breath is plucked from every bed
as it buds with ruthless claws
Air is snatched out of parched lips
that grasp desperately
for a cool taste of a deep inhale.
Its usual sweetness burns
through constricted exhales
that twist sinuously in midair
permitting just enough wheezing for
Dela
yed
resp
onding
smiling
moving
laughing
"Zerox Oblivion", Age 18
I’ve been locked away again
inside the invisible place. The genuine
and familiar sound of my own voice is
contorted by a black atmosphere into
an eerie, distant off-note. How can
anyone see you are not you, when it is
so natural to impersonate yourself?
Every word and blossom slithers
through my stomach. The sun pulses
too brightly and loudly in my ears. The
Cheerios scream silently
from their bowls
as they down in milk
My eyes dart to the tree through the window,
vibrating in my peripheral vision. It stops
and the clock thumbs its nose at me out of the corner of my eye. The house hovers heavy over my shoulders and the moving, melting world floods
my limbs with its foreboding crawl
Despairingly, I try to hold the face
of my chattering child
in the tunnel vision of
a pinhole camera
When I lay down to rest
the upside down pounds on my heart
and undulates through my veins and
mocks my rebuke
God's Word rescues me from drowning
in the serpentine rivers of my view
although I often wish to
His grace reverses the undertow
and his kindness invites
repentance for His thoughts,
where my insight
turns to snakes
and the buoyant resilience
of the cross takes me
through another gritty day,
called good by the Lord.
My insides plunge for the exit
because they can't take
another day inside my skin
yet the King of Kings holds fast
his throne through every whipping
torrent -- Captain of the high seas
The upside down has come for me
but Yeshua has answered my call
but not by turning it right-side up
He answered
by turning me
inside out
His
heart
His
Throne
outward facing
leading
Larger than I
Myself, in Him
and He in me
Peace-abiding
Joy-giving
hand and hand
where I'm
walking this
still upside
down world
with fight
By his light
But, I’m here
Upright
Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure of heart,
for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they shall be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
Gospel of Matthew - 5
A naive girl
in one fell motion
drank in deeply
a deadly potion
Despite red flags
his gaze felt good
His magic mirror
made her feel understood
His twinkling eye
dripped adoration
and there, she basked
in its temptation
Hooked by line
after line after line
to sinker
She gave her heart
and mind to tinker
He cast a fog into her room
that choked the life out
of her bloom
A slow drip gas
like thick perfume
began to strangle
with fangs, consumed
Her tears met only echos
not deserving contemplation
for he only looked into her eyes
to see his own reflection
Petitions and prayers
and secret recordings
covert cries for help
and patronizing ignoring
She turned the other cheek
on deceit and infidelity
Who'd believe her pain
with his charmed veneer identity?
"Maybe it's my fault
– then it can change!
I can save this
from the early grave!"
His favorite game
of shifting blame
cast a spell
of gaslight shame
to make her what
she then became –
A deformed, spent
and bent reduction
stumbling, coped
with all addictions
until the cross
of love’s conviction
came for her in
truth's contrition
but, her feet
just couldn't
seem to listen
She tried to drown
the glare's
compunction
yet, would not
leave that hellbent
dungeon
So, in fear and twisted
submission, she
walked the line of
hell's commission
In deepest depths
of pain’s profusion
she fell for hell’s
perverse seductions
Followed him
into to confusion
agreed with love
that was delusion
Clarity came round often
to try and make her see
but, acceptance flees
at what you hope is true
when your captors say
that they are praying for you
One man died
and bled, perfection
laid down his life
for her salvation
cleansed her soul
of that corruption
raised back up
then, snap –
assumption!
He took her far
from death's
dark functions
became the door
out from dysfunction
crowned her with
his joyful unction
gave her his heart
and sweet devotion
And so, when tension
throws suspension
she laughs, until it turns direction
With every single breath
she mentions
her savior, Christ
who paid her ransom
Age 18 👁️
Narcissus wears a smile
Holding up a mirror
He'll emulate your every move
Trying to look familiar
He'll seduce you with his charm
And siphon spell your sympathy
He'll mask himself, so you'll disarm
Till one dark day's epiphany
All that's done in darkness
Will one day be exposed
The truth has always won
Tis' enough for God to know
"Justice" Age 18
I fumble for key, hands slick with sweat. Nothing works. Combination locks appear on bars, broad as night. I dial and dial and dial. No click.
I gaze hazily at the scratches on the wall. They grin lecherously, like rows of teeth. I claw another year, weeping.
My eyes dart through the bars of the cellar. The shadows of people. I scream for help, but a louder scream covers it. They dodge and vanish.
"All who call on the name of the Lord will be saved," I breathe. But my sword ricochets off the cage with a bang.
Jesus points to an open door.
The door pointing to a door.
My heart races in agony. I turn away, flipping pages, frantically. Shoveling. Deeper.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Deeper.
I raise my blunted shovel higher above the bedrock, in a prayer,
"Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but God delivers us from them all."
Swiftly, his scarred right hand grips mine with the force of a thousand waterfalls. It stings my bleeding knuckles. I hesitate. And try to fling Him off. We wrestle, frozen. He shows me the door. It's still ajar.
The door pointing to a door.
I pretend not to see it. He releases me. I drop my possessions. Trembling knees churn mire, like tar. I grope in the dark, looking for another way. Any other door.
I ransack my heart to cleanse myself of sin that I can only assume bought me this hell. I find plenty.
Despair.
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it," I yell.
Again, Jesus motions to the door. The door pointing to a door.
It's still too narrow. I can't carry my wants through. I'm afraid.
The gnashing grows louder. I cover my ears and run back to the lock, whispering,
"If I say, surely the darkness will cover me. Surely the dark is not dark to you, for the night is as bright as day."
Like a ghost, my hand goes through the lock. I scream for Jesus.
This time, only the open door.
I squint towards it. The chop of wood clinks across rock. My ears wince. I'm dizzy. A ram brays, faintly. My life spins.
"My son's life," says His voice, beyond it.
I look away from the door and declare to the bars,
"If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move."
Silence.
I look back for the door. I can't find it. I can't remember where it was. Or, if I imagined it.
I lay limp, wheezing in the thickness of the foul air. Tossed in a grave of dented keys, scattered among bashed-in locks. Bones clinging to a fading heart.
Surrender.
Jesus and his door reappear, like a mirage. I reach a parched hand towards his water and it dissipates to stone.
"Submission."
The word carries a fragrance that subdues the stench of decay. Roses.
I can hardly move. My blackened heart feels fastened to the floor. I confess that I don't have the legs to follow him out.
Swifty, I grow aware of mighty arms beneath me. I hear the door close, gently, behind me as I'm carried across the threshold and into the fresh, still air.
Rejected by the world
and even by my flesh
flogged upon a sickbed
and still could find no rest
no home
no place
no safe
no head
The looks are snide
The accuser derides,
"What kind of Father
leaves you desolate?"
Silent is my answer
I need not prove a point
For, if a pearl I uttered
the swine would come
devour and plunder
My heart is steadfast
My body faint
If I’ve learned anything
from Jesus
it's that glory grows
under temperance
and restraint
Mouths like graves roar
as water brims my eyes
Yet, I refuse to blink
Can you hear the rumble
of hoofbeats stampede by?
I raise a new song
within my breath
It's the knife upon their ropes
His right arm pulling me to his side
to ignite my grief with hope
A flame of fire and blood
True love and ashen vengeance
The King of Kings makes war
for the acquittal of his defendants
The wielding of his rod
strikes the scoffer dumb
They run while no one chases
for they know that the Word won
The brightness of his beauty
refracts through my tears
restoring all that's stolen
redeeming barren years
An "Aha!" cracks the sky
Branches groan to shed
golden leaves for healing
The cadence of his heartbeat
marks me for His sealing
A cast of ravens scatter
Headless horsemen
drop their platters
All glory and all honor
to my Knight in shining armor
🕯️"Hasten, O God, to save me; O LORD, come quickly to help me. May those who seek my life be put to shame and confusion; may all who desire my ruin be turned back in disgrace. May those who say to me, "Aha! Aha!" turn back because of their shame." Psalm 70
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