Crushed Boxes

mermaid purse

“While the king was at his table, My perfume gave forth its fragrance.”Song of Solomon 1:12.

My father retired from a box company years ago. He did maintenance there, and now my brother has the same position. They make corrugated paper. Think about it, everything you buy comes in a container. Boxes and trinkets are things we like to place objects in. We place jewelry and costly stones in boxes, we place coins, paper clips, tools, fishing bait& tackle and sewing needs. These boxes are protective coverings. Give a child a gift and they are drawn to the box. I want to tell you about a most precious box mentioned in scripture—a box made of a substance that is smoother than honey. I’m also going to talk about a birth that’s not spoken about often. It’s called a mermaid’s purse. I think you will be surprised to learn about these containers that cover and protect objects, even babies at times.

Placing something inside of something keeps it safe. A gun is locked in a gun case. Money is placed in a safe. In the Bible, Adam knew his wife Eve and they became one. He placed himself inside of her. Christianity fell in love with a saying, “Invite Jesus into your heart.” As literally as possible they mean this. Jesus-Yeshua said He was the Word made flesh. So how does that work? “Thy word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against thee.” Psalm 119:11.

The first altar call was created in the early 1900’s by a man named Billy Sunday. He was a baseball player turned evangelist. Billy Graham and others took this “invite Jesus in your heart/ altar call” and ran with it. before the altar call was the mourners bench. Salvation has evolved over time. To learn more about salvation and why Jesus said in Matthew 15:34, “”I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel,” pick up a copy of my teaching book Doctrine of Demons Part #2. Click the link below and then click on the word “here.”

How does this work–this invitation and placing inside of a heart?

I love books. I have a bookcase that has many encased inside of it. I have wicker baskets under tables filled with books. These containers hold the books, but unless I take them out and read them, I do not know what creative stories lay inside the pages. However, if I take down Mary Poppins and read it, I can walk past my book shelf, look at the cover, and immediately certain verses from the pages that I PLACED INSIDE MY HEART will spring forth in my mind.  “Winds in the east, there’s a mist coming in, like something is brewin’ and ’bout to begin.” One of my personal favorites is, “Anything can happen if you let it.”

So what am I saying? I placed the story in my heart. I can pull it out if I need it. The Bible is a book that if you hide the Gospels, Proverbs and Psalms and other books in your heart you can pull out wisdom and knowledge and understanding. You can be smarter and wiser than all your enemies. You can make “right” choices and be righteous.

So back to boxes. . .

There’s a rather peculiar birth called the mermaids sack. Another term is caul.

Maggie Koerth Baker explains it like this, “”Born in the caul” is a phrase that’s connected with a lot of cross-cultural myths and superstitions — babies born in the caul are supposed to be destined for lives of fame and fortune (or, possibly, misfortune and grisly death, depending on which legends you’re listening to). Biologically, though, it refers to a baby that’s born with part of the amniotic sac — the bubble of fluid a fetus grows in inside the uterus — still attached. Usually, a piece of the sac is draped over the baby’s head or face. These are called caul births, and they’re rare. But, about once in every 80,000 births, you’ll get something truly extraordinary — “en-caul”, a baby born inside a completely intact amniotic sac, fluid and all.”

Ah, a precious gift inside the veiled fluid. This fluid was often saving the life of a child. Most of the babies born prematurely had a hard time making it back in the day, but one born sealed up in this sack seemed to thrive and live. Protection. His Holy spirit is a precious protector too.


There were a couple women in the bible who had something treasured and protected as well. If you’ve ever heard the song My Alabaster Box by CeCe Winans, then you are familiar with the chorus. “You don’t know the cost of the oil in my alabaster box.”

And you don’t. You have no idea and I have no idea of how much oil is in your flask or the cost of it, but I know it’s precious and needs to be protected.

Alabaster is a fine-grained, translucent form of gypsum, typically white and similar to marble. It’s easily carved and molded and was used to make the pillars in Solomon’s temple. The ointments that were so very costly such a frankincense and myrrh were placed in expensive alabaster boxes or vials in those days to keep them PURE. Her perfume was Nard or Spikenard. What do we know about Nard? Spikenard is used as an antibacterial, anti-fungal, anti-inflammatory, and a sedative. It was used in the temple during Shabbat as an incense. A sweet smelling perfume!

Not only was the aroma of these perfumed oils sweet and lovely to breathe in, they were healing. The flask was often coated with a seal or heavy wax like you see on certain whiskey or brandy decanters. This heavy seal kept the perfume from escaping and kept the costly oil from spoiling. We are sealed for the day of redemption. “In Him, you also, after listening to the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation– having also believed, you were sealed in Him with the Holy Spirit of promise,” 1st Corinthians 1:13.

Revelations seven speaks about a sealed people and an unsealed people. “And I saw another angel ascending from the east, with the seal of the living God. And he called out in a loud voice to the four angels who had been given power to harm the land and the sea: 3“Do not harm the land or sea or trees until we have sealed the foreheads” of the servants of our God.” 7:2-3.


But when Mary BROKE open her box the whole room breathed in the sweetest perfume ever used. Why? Because it was poured out on the one who died for us. She poured it on His head. The vial had to be broken. The seal had to be removed to get the fragrance out. When we are broken like these boxes it can be overwhelming. Crushing a rose petal brings out the perfume. Crushing olives give us oil. Brokenness before the king brings a sweet perfume—or a putrid bitterness. There are seven churches mentioned in Revelation. One church thinks its rich with this sweet fragrance, but Jesus/Yeshua said they needed an anointment for their eyes. “Because you say, “I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have need of nothing,” and you do not know that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked, I advise you to buy from Me gold refined by fire so that you may become rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself, and that the shame of your nakedness will not be revealed; and eye salve to anoint your eyes so that you may see.” Revelation 3:17-18 NASB.

So back to boxes. What have we been placing in the box of our soul? Our heart? Our eyes? “The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth what is good; and the evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth what is evil; for his mouth speaks from that which fills his heart. Luke 6:45. The Bible says that out of the overflow of our mouth our heart speaks, but if we have Jesus-Yeshua, the Word hidden so deeply, etched and engraved inside of our hearts our mouths will be like perfume. So, by all means, invite His word into your heart today and meditate on it. PROTECT IT EVEN. . .

Caul Photo by Aris Tsigrus


Son’s of Thunder!

I have three sons of thunder
Sons of lightening, sons of fame. . .
I have three sons who live in a box on the corner begging for change.

They play trash can drums and acoustic guitars

They sing in the churches and they sing in the bars.

They rise up sturdy with strength like Samson
They have arms of steel and hearts of flames
They have eyes of knowledge from carrying much pain.
One is a prophet, the other a priest and one will inherit the pen of my ink.
One’s hearts is like Jeremiah,
One’s heart is like Amos,
And one’s heart is a broken stallion on a ride to Venus.
One’s telescope can see all of Jupiter’s rings
The other has a tongue that can polish anything.
One’s eyes are so childlike and gentle to behold
One holds a Masters in geology stones.
One’s a poet, ones a plumber, the other ones a thief
Stealing the others thunder every opportunity he meets.
One’s a gamer, ones a golfer, ones a runner pounding cement
One’s a tailor, ones a sailor, ones trying to pay the rent.
One’s a fisherman, ones a comedian, and the other a Seer for the king
One’s a prophet, ones a preacher, one wears a golden ring.
I have three sons of thunder and they’ll rise to heaven’s throne.
They’ll storm the gates of hell
And they’ll run the race steadfast
No matter how things look right now
The past is but the past.
HaShem of heaven’s armies will notice their zeal
Like Hercules, they’ll run
Like Solomon, they’ll build!
With wisdom and knowledge, they’ll cloak peace upon their backs
Like David with his sling, they’ll crush every giant that attacks.
I have three sons who live in a box on the corner begging for change
They play trash can drums and acoustic guitars
They sing in the churches and they sing in the bars.
They fly through the air and sail through the seas,
I have three sons of thunder and I’m as proud as I can be!

the men


The Taste of Rain




This is a poem I wrote in or around 2007 after losing my health, my home, my career, and occupation. During this dark night of the soul, my ex-husband left the country and never returned. The poem is darkness and light. Finding the light is like tasting the rain.


King David played the golden harp and drove the demons away.

I can’t seem to make the melody come, I’m plucking on strings of pain.
Once upon a midnight star, upon a sailor’s ship. . .
I stood and watched you sail right by, as my captain cried out in distress.

But you were much too busy, looking at the wind, and at the sea,
I tossed and turned and waved my arms, but you ignored my screams.
I’m thirsty and I need to drink the water that makes one never thirst.
I pray, I wipe the tears that slide and drip off my fingertips
I wish I hadn’t drifted so far into this black dark mist.

The only thing to stare upon is stars and moonlit beams,
They bounce and flutter upon the waters,
but I am so thirsty I could scream.
If only I could quench this cry and heal my parched, parched, soul.
If only the One who delivers would swiftly make me whole!

David came and plucked his harp and angels sang great praise.
My ears heard only screeching cries. . .
Upon my neck, I felt a demon’s haunted breath.
I wish that I could almost die, and forget my tattered past.
After much trepidation, I humbly bow my knees.
And before I know it I’m repenting of all my crimes with tearful heartfelt pleas.
More and more tears did slide and salt my anguished lips
I clutch my heart and squeeze my eyes and slowly began to slip. . .
Slip into the melody, like flutes and fainted dreams
And after long and bitter moans I hear a delightful sound
Twas king David playing his golden harp, he plucked and pulled each string,
a song only me and the angels hear as I glide through the sea.

Faster into the night, your silhouette I can faintly see.
Just a glimpse of you turning away, turning your eyes from me.
You abandoned me at my blackest hour.
It’s hard to take a breath,
I ride a wave into crashings currents,
Like Job, I beg for death,

But up upon a hill did glow, a light that caught my eye,
The lighthouse swelled with height so tall. It towered over the sea.
Like a knight in shining bronze, a beacon for all to see.
It glowed into the darkening night and dried up all my tears.
Demons scream and demons fled and I became serene.
Then suddenly the sky opened up and rained a glistening stream.

It washed upon my gown and ran gently through my hair.
My pores opened up to taste its purity.
It trickled across parched thirsty skin that had cracked
And bled and grieved.

I opened up my mouth and drank,
I drank till was content,
And suddenly you were but a fog upon the mist.

The rain pelted all the pain into the black dark sea
David played his golden harp and angels serenaded me.
I finally close my eyes and sleep under its amber glow,
The stars, the moonlit night, the beacon upon the hill. . .
And angels say they cannot cry, but whisper

Photo by Andrew Mushekov

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Free snippet: Walter the Homeless Man

Walter Cover Finalangel stone


They landed softly in a field that Josh had been to plenty of times, it was at the park by his school. Her feet had touched the ground so smoothly, it was as if they had settled on top of the clouds. She then handed him the large purse like bag that held Jackie and said, “Release her.” Josh shook his head from side to side, clutching the bag tighter. He looked down at Jackie’s shimmery green neck and pale blue-grey feathers. The birds head bobbed up and down. Then she said it again, only, this time, more sternly, “You must set her free.”
Josh gazed up at her radiant face and bright cherry hair, “But I love her so much.” His eyes pleaded with hers as he peered into her face.
“I know,” the angel said, “but you must set her free, she will come back,” she said. “You will see my son.”
Josh turned the knob and opened the clutch of the case he had just closed. He gently lifted Jackie out of the handbag and held her close to his heart. He rubbed his hand tenderly over her feathers. He looked intently into the angel’s face, “Why do I have to let her go? She’s all I have now.” He lowered his head, “My daddy’s gone and my friend Walter is gone, and I am supposed to be taking care of her for him.” He held Jackie tighter.
The angel smiled at Josh and her eyes sparkled like crystal. He thought he’d never seen eyes that kind and that loving. Her voice was like the sound of china tinkling. “Now Josh, you must release her and set her free, trust me, Josh. She will come back, but first, we need her to complete her mission.”
Josh lifted his hands that were cupped into the air and held them as high as he could and then he felt a rustle of wings and a flutter of feathers against his skin. Then as soon as Jackie was soaring above him, he wished he could take it back and he began to scream, “NO, no, no!” Just then Bradford was shaking him and asking him if he was alright. Josh looked out the window and realized he had been dreaming. The sun was setting in the sky and he was covered in sweat. The Jeep was parked in the driveway and his mother was unbuckling Tabitha from her car seat.
“Where’s Jackie?” he said frantically, as he climbed up abruptly to look over the seat.
“She’s fine,” Bradford said, opening the door and lifting her cage out of the back.
Josh was greatly relieved to see her, but he could still hear the voice in his ears, the voice that sounded like a tinkling of glass, “You must release her and set her free.”