On Bullies and Silence

Part of a series. Start here.

As a de facto only child for nine years, I was quiet and secretive. Even those few times when I did speak up, I’d say what I had to say only once, and let it go if no one listened.

My secretiveness served me well when I held a security clearance decades ago. The Non-Disclosure Agreement we signed had a length of ten years, but many years passed after its expiration before I told my parents what my job had been. And I mentioned it only incidentally and after reminding myself that I wouldn't go to jail if I did it.

As I get older, I get mouthier, but my natural tendency remains, especially with things which are meaningful, painful, and emotional.

I’ve been bullied often – as a child, a teenager, a young adult, in middle age, and as an adult approaching senior citizen status. I don’t hate the perpetrators – several of them are on my personal prayer list – nor do I feel sorry for myself because of it. In fact, I’ve come to view it as a symptom of a greater factor in my life: God’s protection of my physical and mental/emotional selves – a pattern I’ve noticed only in recent years. He has even protected me from the more catastrophic personal consequences of my own sins. Here's the evidence.

The bullies have had one thing in common: an inexplicable aversion to me.

Now, I’m not saying that I haven’t had people who dislike me for explainable reasons. I’ve mentioned that I’ve done some bad things. Also, I can be a pain in the backside, sometimes intentionally.

But, I’m not talking about those cases.

There have been people who have disliked me on sight and would have nothing to do with me. Others have turned their faces away from me after claiming to love me and this is about more than romantic relationships. Of these, I can look back and see that the aversion may have been spiritually-driven: that their faces were turned away from me for my protection and by that, I mean all facets of protection mentioned.

But it was only during my homelessness stint that I was able to truly see the spiritual aspect of it. And He gave me a taste of what we are all up against by allowing the insertion of a servant of the Adversary into my living space.

I was bullied by that servant. Oh, she never laid a hand on me; that would have been easy to solve, since I believe in using blunt instruments. This was worse.

And I have been silent about it – except to a few – for four years. But, I think it’s time to talk about it. Bullies rely on silence.

It won’t be what you expect.

I felt that it was necessary to give some sense of what it’s like to look back on these things. God gave me a love of identifying patterns and I hope that this post assists you in seeing that pattern also.

Call it the glue that links to posts together. Now I think I'm ready.

PREVIOUSLY IN THE SERIES:

Banishing the Voice of the Enemy

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Baldilocks Top Traffic Magnets in 2018

Logo by Jerry M.

Excerpts along with. If I get a new one in the next ten days, I'll update. Traffic is way down from last year and that is my fault.

Most of the swarms of eyeball were born of links from Instapundit and from Thomas Wictor's late Twitter account. (Thomas is blogging a Quod Verum.)

These are listed from earliest to most recent.

And, in view of my present and on-going series, several of these older posts address things supernatural, just so you know.

*****

I Don’t Miss George Bush Anymore

George W. Bush thinks we should all thank the illegal aliens for picking the fruit and vegetables that I can barely afford, does he? I’m a huge berry fan. Strawberries run over $3 a pound.

But if I wanted to eat shit, literally and figuratively, pennies.

That Time When the Scales Fell Away From My Eyes (this one was also my favorite)

At best, I acknowledged God’s existence and that was all. I spent my young adult years ignoring Him, which seemed only fair. He had been ignoring me since I was born – or so I thought at the time.

The True Root of the Square-Root Debacle

If I had kids, I'd homeschool them. And I'd teach them about guns, not to mention math.

Principalities and Powers

I can’t discount, however, that the Devil’s advocates are so fearful of Donald Trump that they continue to intercede to their father regarding the man. My enemies’ enemies aren’t necessarily my friends, but there is no way I’m going to agree with a bunch of Devil worshipers

Lock Your Doors

It’s all unprotected [corporeal and spiritual] networks out there, ripe for the intrusion. Unlocked doors and open windows.

Which Guns Do They Want? All of Them

There are dozens, maybe hundreds of street gangs and drug/human-trafficking cartels just salivating at the thought of a disarmed America.

And this leads to the true reason that the Organized Left wants us disarmed.

It's this: any real attempt at confiscation will lead to a lot of death: of gun owners and of confiscators. And after that dies down – no pun intended – there will be only a terrorized remnant, beset on every side by tyrants, thieves, murderers, rapists and child molesters.

And that’s just in the government.

The Tactic of Floating Outrageous BS

[H]ere's the intended aftereffect of the tactic: even after the truth comes out, there will still be a significant segment of the public who believes the falsehood. And there will be nothing you can do to show them that they are wrong.

Why I Was Hesitant to Blog About Obama When He Was President

President Trump say that he would pardon conservative writer and filmmaker Dinesh D’Souza. That made me happy and it made me think about the fact that I’m slightly acquainted with Dinesh: I was slated to appear in D’Souza’s documentary 2016: Obama’s America.

Why? Because I am the mirror image of a president.

Every Tuesday and Saturday, I blog at the award-winning DaTechGuyBlog. 
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Banishing the Voice of the Enemy

When I published and shared the last post in this series, initially I received very little feedback – “likes” and a few comments. It came only from those who I know follow my blog closely and/or are like-minded spiritually. I had that Gideon moment that I’ve often had over the years that I’ve been blogging.

“What’s the use?”

“No one is reading.”

“No one cares about this.”

You’d think by now that I’d recognize the whispers from the Adversary and that these would be especially recognizable, considering the overarching topic of my series. But it still took me a good half hour to banish the voice of doubt – the voice of dis-faith, as it were.

However, when I said that, if I received little to no feedback on the series, I would cut the series short, more people spoke up to say that they are looking forward to its continuation.

And one person asked, in private, the most pertinent question.

“Are you doing this for the feedback or are you doing this for God?”

The answer: I’m doing it because I think it’s what God wants me to do. I’ve kept a lot of this stuff bottled up, because I’ve found that I cared what other people thought more that I previously admitted to myself.

I’d like to shake the last vestiges of that dust off my feet. And the rest of me.

I know what I saw and what I heard.

Regarding the part of the series which will immediately follow, I reviewed the material this morning. It’s set up in the dry, boring fashion in the manner I originally documented – date, time, who and what. Therefore, it’s necessary to rewrite it in narrative form. Good thing that I have some experience there!

And, that’s what I’m up to today and, probably, tomorrow. I’m a perfectionist when it comes to story-telling.

So, be patient. The tale is already told.

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The Heralding

NEXT:

On Bullies and Silence

Every Tuesday and Saturday, I blog at the award-winning DaTechGuyBlog. 
Latest post: Last Days of the European Christmas Markets and Family Conversation.

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When you hit the Tip Jar, it helps pays for: A Roof Over My Head, Food, Gasoline, Car Insurance, the writing of My Next Book(s), and Utilities--especially Internet and COFFEE! Yes, coffee is a utility.

The Heralding

If, like me, you’re of a certain age, you’ll remember the TV cartoon Casper the Friendly Ghost. Looking it up, I discovered that the series was based on a short film from 1945.

One night, I found out how the illustrator might have conceived his creation. Or, perhaps, it was how my own mind interpreted things using concepts familiar to me. Either way, the dream I had was riveting, to say the least.

When I lived in the homeless facility, there were rooms set aside for veterans and I lived in one of them. I had been there alone for about a week when I got a roommate. Small black lady -- an Army veteran -- who seemed normal enough when we were making our get-to-know-you small talk on that first day. She had a Caribbean accent, which I found out was Haitian.

That night, I had a dream about God and Satan talking to each other. Both appeared as white, faceless apparitions against a black background. They appeared very much like this.

At first, I heard murmuring voices, but then they faded in. The two were speaking in a language I had never heard before, but I could sense the nature of the conversation: point and counterpoint.

At some point, God stopped talking and just looked at Satan because the latter was saying one word over and over again in the unknown language. Then the word became English.

“Felon! Felon! Felon!”

Initially, I thought that Satan was saying that God was a felon; but when I looked up the word ‘felon’ later that day, I realized that Satan was talking about humanity.

One of the definitions of ‘felon’ is a criminal worthy of death.

Then Satan noticed me, turned to a vapor, came at me incredibly fast, and enveloped me. I was paralyzed and could feel the vapor on my skin -- a tingling on every inch of my body. I specifically remember feeling the sensation on the bottom of my right foot. Allegedly, the soles of our feet are porous absorption points.

The pressure of the entity tightened against my skin. It was trying to enter my being, but could not. When, I called out to God, Satan gave up. I woke up after that.

My roommate would not speak to me for days and, afterward, began a reign of terror against me.

More to follow.

PREVIOUSLY IN THE SERIES:

That Time When the Enemy Showed His Face

NEXT:

Banishing the Voice of the Enemy

Every Tuesday and Saturday, I blog at the award-winning DaTechGuyBlog. 
Latest post: Last Days of the European Christmas Markets.

When you hit the Tip Jar, it helps pays for: A Roof Over My Head, Food, Gasoline, Car Insurance, the writing of My Next Book(s), and Utilities--especially Internet and COFFEE! Yes, coffee is a utility.

That Time When the Enemy Showed His Face

I'm reposting part of a post from three years ago -- at the end of my mercifully short homelessness stint -- because it's necessary to the flow of the posts which will follow. Edited a bit because that's who I am.

*****

Almost on a daily basis, I read or listen to Christian commentators. Many of them discuss eschatology or break down scripture. But one topic has interested me: missionary work in Third World countries. Oh, I don't feel lead to do it, but I find a consistent observation fascinating: that the evil side of the supernatural is often more overt in African, Central American, South American, Middle Eastern and Asian countries than in the USA and Europe, due to the prevalence of non-Christian and/or occult practices in many of these places. Observers have also said that this often makes prospective new converts in these places more open to God's supernatural manifestations than is so for First World converts.

We "sophisticated" Westerners -- even Christians -- tend to scoff at the otherworldly. But what are incidents like this, this and this (ad infinitum), but supernatural manifestations? Jesus healed demoniacs and I bet that if those demoniacs had lived in the 21st century, they'd be posting manifestos against God and everyone on social media before they went out in a blaze (pun intended) of "glory" -- or before the Son of Man had mercy on them.

But I saw nothing so horrendous. However, I saw things that my previously sheltered state rendered me powerless to explain using "rational" means. Was the homeless facility in which I lived a portal for the Enemy? I'm sure it was; it was an aggregation of fear and hopelessness, which is what the Enemy is selling. That much I know.

Day after day, I could sense the evil working in the facility. Occasionally, I would allow those feelings to affect me, but it was never for very long. Prayer, reading the Bible and regularly attending church would push those feelings back. But it was a constant effort. (One of my prayers is that I don't let up now that the attacks are not as overt.) I'd say that I wasn't all that successful, as my writer's block might indicate.

And a few times, I got to see the works of the Enemy up close. Let's talk about a guy named Dean.

Dean,* a Navy veteran, was slim, had long brown hair and blue, glassy eyes. He walked around the courtyard of the facility in full ramble mode. If one actually listened, it sounded like gibberish --usually. And, usually, it involved Jesus. Dean's main theme: that he, himself was Jesus.

I heard of one supernatural incident in which he was the star and saw one myself.

I was sitting on one of the benches in the smoking area having a conversation with someone else and Dean was behind me, babbling. The facility appears to have once been a hotel. The smoking area is a small, area in the corner of the courtyard and it's boxed off by planters which are separated by wooden benches. In the planters are trees in various stages of growth. (Interesting aside: if one sits under the trees, it feels as if it's raining; the trees "weep.")

Dean had an odd habit of pulling the leaves off of the trees and tossing them randomly. But, this time, he was pulling them off and tossing them on my back. I cut off my conversation, turned to him and said, "stop that." I was looking him directly in the eyes.

Suddenly his glassy stare cleared and he responded.

"Get off my land. Go back to your husband."

I felt a chill go down my back. I could only think to rebuke him in the name of Jesus the Christ and that's what I did. On the mention of Christ's name, Dean stalked away from me.

The second incident involving Dean is second-hand, but, to me, it's more jarring.

Two other residents of the facility--Rodney and Janice--got to see what I'm about to relay. Neither person is particularly religious (though, after the following incident, Rodney began attending church with me for a time).

The two watched as Dean climbed up on one of the planters described, babbling as usual about Jesus. Then Dean put up his arms in Crucifix fashion and began to exclaim: "I'm Jesus, I'm Jesus!"

"Get the f*** down from there," Rodney said, and, just as he finished speaking, both Rodney and Janice say that they felt an unnatural wind blow between them and Dean; so strong that it pushed them back. They saw the wind hit Dean directly, knocking him off the planter, and onto the ground --on his backside.

The word in Hebrew for 'spirit' is ruah (רוּחַ). It is also the word for 'wind.'

The Holy Spirit smacked Dean.

Weeks later, Dean ended up getting kicked out of the facility for violence against security and, for months, he hung around on the perimeter of the place -- as did several others who had been ejected for various offenses. (Just as I was about to leave, he was allowed back in, as were several other similarly afflicted persons who had been kicked out. And I could feel the level of spiritual chaos rising.)

*All names are pseudonyms.

PREVIOUSLY IN THE SERIES:

Their Father

NEXT:

The Heralding

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Their Father

Part of a series. Start here.

Before I get started, I need to remind you of something I said last year:

We Christians are familiar—some only passingly familiar--with Jesus’ assertion that the Devil is the Father of Lies. That is, he is the progenitor of everything that is false. Let’s stipulate that and go further: he is the architect [and builder] of Lies. God is building His kingdom, and so the Adversary is building his.

This adversary does deal in simple falsehoods, but those aren’t his most lethal weapons. He is an imitator of his enemy, God, and therefore, his deceptions are high, wide, deep, broad, complex—and, long-term.

These types of deceptions are four-dimensional at the very least; they are his weapons of mass destruction.

I received little to no feedback on this observation. But I know with every fiber of my being that it's true. In today's news alone there are dozens of examples of the complex lies and corruption woven into the institutions of this country -- of this world.

Thousands of text messages sent by fired FBI agent Peter Strzok and former FBI attorney Lisa Page were erased

Ace speculates on a link between Fusion GPS, the Weekly Standard, and George Soros

VA Whistleblower Visited by FBI Sent to Psych Ward

And let's not forget about that other whistblower.

I don't know how anyone can not see this -- unless there's something else at work here: the unseen spiritual forces of our Adversary. His servants -- his worker bees build edifice after edifice and few are able to see those structures for what they are. Or those who can see feel helpless.

That's what I was feeling when trying to keep up on current events and, therefore, why I've had trouble even being interested in it.

PREVIOUSLY IN THE SERIES:

Shift in Focus

NEXT:

That Time When the Enemy Showed His Face

Every Tuesday and Saturday, I blog at the award-winning DaTechGuyBlog. Latest post: Freedom From Religion.

When you hit the Tip Jar, it helps pays for: A Roof Over My Head, Food, Gasoline, Car Insurance, the writing of My Next Book(s), and Utilities--especially Internet and COFFEE! Yes, coffee is a utility.

Shift in Focus

I've been holding back on you. Maybe I've been too concerned about what my audience thinks of me, but I can't do that anymore.

God has given me tiny little glimpses into the reality of things and I have to tell others about what I've seen.

Relax. He hasn't told me the day that Jesus will return for His church or the day when California will slide into the ocean -- I would be dictating this post while on the highway instead of sitting here calmly in my LA apartment if he had told me that last thing.

But He has given me enough so that I have seen evidence that this visible world is not all there is.

We are told that we are to accept that on faith and I did so before he started showing me stuff. It's great but also unnerving. And it does this one thing: it shifts ones perspective about current events. Things which used to be so important now seem so silly that I can barely stand to read much of the news and commentary. Conversely, formerly hidden patterns emerge.

Therefore, in the next few posts, I'm going to tell you what I've seen. I don't know if the telling will make any difference in the life of my readers, but I do know that God exists and I don't think He intended for me to keep all of this to myself.

 Some of you might find it all mundane and boring. But, then again ...

Hold tight! I'm writing.

PREVIOUSLY IN THE SERIES:

Weapon of War

NEXT:

Their Father

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When you hit the Tip Jar, it helps pays for: A Roof Over My Head, Food, Gasoline, Car Insurance, the writing of My Next Book(s), and Utilities--especially Internet and COFFEE! Yes, coffee is a utility.