Wholly Illuminated

This week while scrolling through social media I read a meme (below) that described my week or parts of my whole existence.

survive

 

The meme along with the raw words written by a friend pierced me. Her vulnerability at that moment ministered to me. It went to a place in my soul that was in need of a bandage. It helped me cry. I believe there is rainwater from heaven in every droplet of our tears. Feelings are meant to be felt.

I had no idea when I started this blog last week that I would add a portion exposing my vulnerability, but here I am.

I am a person that’s dealt with trauma in my lifetime. None of us are getting out alive.

When my husband and I go for short walks at night, he knows that if a dog barks I am going to jump two feet. A loud horn blares, I squeeze his hand until my nails leave indentions. Earlier in the day, he walks behind me unannounced in the bathroom, and I scream bloody murder, my arms flaring and my heart pounding. Later, he wants to look at a property for sale in the country, secluded– and my first thought is a book written by Truman Capote called “In Cold Blood.” It would be funny if it weren’t true. Perhaps this is what helps me write fiction? I’ve lived a thousand lives under the sun…He briefly touches on the topic of my fears, and I blurt out,

“I am fearful of everything and nothing!”

“What?”

“I’m scared of people hurting me, dogs, going for walks, evil men, living in the middle of nowhere—living in the city. I’m petrified of hospitals, doctors, and the whole time we lived with my father I never once went on a walk with you for fear of a dog, a bobcat, a snake, or some ferocious animal attacking me.”

He’s listening, and I am wondering what he is thinking, but I continue talking this through.

“At the age of 9 or 10, my brother had a paper route. If he missed a couple of houses, my father would toss me in the back of the truck. He would pull in the drive, and I’d place the paper on the porch and hop back in the bed. One particular house stands out. Before I could reach the porch, a large German shepherd lept over the fence and landed on top of me gnashing his teeth. Luckily my dad got it off of me. I went on to babysit for our neighbor at 13, who had the most massive, loudest, German shepherd on the block. The fear started after a dream of hungry wolves surrounding me. I was 30, and they were there.

“I’m scared of everything and nothing, I say again.”

“I’m not scared of sickness, death, demons, or losing all my material possessions and becoming homeless.”

He looks confused.

“Honey, “Do you know how crazy that sounded? Do you even understand what you just said? You just named things most people in the world are scared to death of. Even death.”

“Maybe it’s because I have faced those things, I think to myself?”

Some of us have a point on a map, a calendar, a datebook locked in our brain and we can tell you the exact moment of the car wreck, the diagnosis, or our child that died before it ever learned to talk or even before it exited the womb. There is a moment in time where we look back at the shattered glass, the addiction, the iron bars, the chemo, the foreclosure, the divorce papers, the bruises, the rape, the welfare department, the mental break down, or the charade of pretending to be really put together when we were one button shy of EXPLODING!

Yes, we all have our moments, and some of us have another type of trauma. In World War II with gunfire and bullets whipping around his head, my uncle wading in freezing waters, stopped and threw his hands in the air and cried, “The war is over!” Of course, it wasn’t. He just had wishful thinking. He had seen too many bodies stacked in piles– stripped of all dignity— He had seen and smelled enough death.

But, some of us don’t have one memory or one vivid scar—it’s not one childhood adventure filled with nightmares, but more of a series of unfortunate events—sometimes it is an everyday battle just to get through.

Sometimes we wonder how we can take another step—breathe– trust again–go back out into the world and try and be a candle burning for someone else. We too cry and throw our arms to heaven exclaiming “The war is over!” I’m exhausted Abba. Take the pain, sorrow, shame, guilt, confusion, debt, unbelief, sickness, and trauma and take my weapons of fear. Take the bars I have built to protect me. Take the suffering.

pottery job

 

 

Job took broken pottery, and he scraped his sores. He came to a place where he was okay with death. Matter a fact; he welcomed death. He said the thing he feared the most had come upon him, but what was that thing?

He starts the beginning of chapter three cursing the day of his birth. He wishes that he had never been born because his pain is so deep. He explains how those in the grave are at rest. Job 3:16-17.

One morning, in the midst of some of the worst pain I have ever felt, I awoke to this pain in terror that I was going to have to get through another day of suffering. I prayed to die. I quoted Job verbatim. Then I heard an echo, “Do you not value the life I’ve given you? Do you not hope for better days?”

Job goes on to explain his fear.

“Why is light given to those in misery, and life to the bitter of soul, to those who long for death that does not come,” Job 3:20-21.

And that is what he feared. A death that does not come. He feared he wasn’t going to get to escape such misery. He had lost children, cattle, oxen, servants and he was suffering so severely. He wasn’t a man steeped in fear. He was a righteous man who wanted to go rest. I remember relating to such words. “Just take me Abba! I’m finished here. What good am I to anyone laying here suffering? I have nothing left here to do!” But I was much mistaken. I hadn’t even tasted what He had in store for me.

What does it look like when we use all our experiences and healing to help another heal? What does it look like when we embody Him and are a light? A candle. A burning flame that can’t be hidden because His light outshines all the darkness we’ve been through?

 

lightttttttt

What if The Father of Glory wanted to come spend an evening with you? What would that look like? What did Shavuot and the tongues of fire sound like?

We often imagine what it would have been like to walk with Yeshua/ Jesus. To intently listen to Him tell parables, but what about as we go through our repetitious life? A typical workday or weekend. What would that look like to meet the risen Savior face to face? I’m talking about something fragrant. Something memorable. Something that’s hard to even articulate.

You may have gathered from my previous blog, that I don’t like to be at the hospital without my husband. Our first night back at the hospital he slept on a couch next to me. By the second evening, between his back and his hip, he was ready to go home and get some much-needed rest. Before he left, he came over and said a simple prayer asking The Father to watch over me and protect me while we were apart. He also prayed for the Father to send compassionate people to care for me. What a very precious husband I have.

After he left, I was exhausted and a tad anxious, but I was prepared to try and rest until he returned. If you’ve ever spent much time in a hospital you know it’s difficult to get any rest with pain, nurses coming in and out, beeping IV’s, as well as bathroom help and so forth. On my second return to this hospital, I had some of the best nurses I’ve ever come in contact with. However, there was one that seemed explicitly handcrafted for me. I’ll call her Daffodil.

dafodils

 

 

 

 

I’m fast asleep, and around 8 pm I hear my door open. I turn, sleepy-eyed and look up at this woman who has just entered my room. She is tall– with a smile that made her eyes twinkle like stars in the night. She did not walk but seemed to sashay around the room in ballet slippers softly checking this and that.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Manning; I’ll make a note that you’re an early sleeper so that I won’t disturb your rest.”

“Oh, I’m not an early sleeper. In fact, I’m a night owl. I was dozing from the medicine.”

We began to talk, and before we knew it, we were knee deep in cooking shows. The Great British Bake-off! Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood were our first topic.

“Did you know that Mary contracted polio at the tender age of 13 and had a weaker arm due to it?

“No, I did not know that.”

“And did you know Paul would help her roll out her dough and prepare items?”

“Really,” I said, trying to sit up more.

“I think Paul looks like the guy from American Idol.”

“Oh, Simon!” Yes! Ha-ha!”

She laughed heartily, and then we were off to our next cooking adventure. Daffodil expressed her aspirations to create fabulous food. Her stories of family and grandparents who loved to bake were sprinkled throughout. I discussed my mom’s homemade carrot cake, and she described a delicate Italian cream cake made by her grandmother. The conversation was light but personal.  We left baking and then traveled to World War II episodes on Netflix. Soon, we were reliving Foyle’s War, Land Girls, and Call the Midwives. Before I knew it, we were sailing on to authors and our favorite all time books.

When Daffodil smiled, her light lit up the room. She exclaimed, “I love books! I love the smell of books!” I responded with an unquestionable, “YES!” Like fresh crayons in kindergarten! We giggled like school girls. Her phone buzzed, and she had to scurry off to another room. Suddenly, I felt revived. She was one of my people, and I was going to be blessed with her light for the next three days.

We discovered we lived very close to one another. Right down the road from Barnes and Noble bookstore—a landmark. I mentioned my new grandson.

“Oh, I bet you just want to eat him up!”

She began to tell me about her nephew who had high jacked her heart.

“Even if I have worked all night, need to clean, do laundry and catch up on things, one call from him “Aunt Daffodil can we go out?” and I am like “Baby, yes, we can!”

Suddenly, we were laughing, and I had to hold my side that was still very sore to release the joy I felt. She caused me to forget my pain—my fear, and that my husband wasn’t coming back until morning.

Since the surgery, I have met two stoma nurses, both kind and good at what they do. Their profession is to try and prepare people to change a colostomy bag and empty it. For me, it was overwhelming and quite frightening to take in. It was humbling. You notice things and smells and the level of care. Since I had been back in the hospital with my wound, no one had helped me one on one yet, but Daffodil did. She took me in the bathroom and equipped me with gloves, tips for spraying, cleaning, and deodorizing the room, and she did it with the most compassion I’ve ever felt from any human. I wasn’t embarrassed, humiliated, or even scared to allow her to help me, help myself. This woman snuck into my room over and over again. She learned I was a writer of fiction and Torah teachings and wanted to know how to order my books.

She never told me about her religious beliefs. She never preached to me. She never quoted scriptures. No politics. No pushing or pulling, but her words held LIFE. Her tongue FRUIT.

tekoa 8

Daffodil walked into my room like a candlelit burning brightly–like a flower pouring out fragrance. She bowed lowly. My husband witnessed her in her other patient’s chambers as he walked down the hall and he said: “She is that bright no matter where she goes.” That BRIGHT. Like a candle on a lampstand. Oh, Saints, we can be those candles! We can be the hope of glory!”

When we are crucified with Messiah Yeshua/ Jesus, we no longer live, but He lives in us.

The Zohar states, “When a Jew utters one word of Torah, the light [in his soul] is kindled…and he sways to and fro like the flame of a candle.”

CCR, Credence Clearwater Revival, has a song called “Long as I can see the light.” John Fogerty bellows for us to put a candle in the window.

“If therefore your whole body is full of light, with no dark part in it, it will be wholly illumined, as when the lamp illumines you with its rays.” Luke 11:36.

What does Yeshua tell us before this? “No one, after lighting a lamp, puts it away in a cellar nor under a basket, but on the lampstand, so that those who enter may see the light.”

Thank you, Daffodil for being a light to me and thank you Abba for hearing my husband’s prayer and bringing light into my room.

We can heal from all the trauma by shining our lights to those in need. By listening. By praying. By giving sound counsel. By measuring our words. Even at our darkest moments in our deepest misery, we have LIGHT.

The picture of my husband below seemed to shine with extra light, and I wanted to personally thank him for being a bright light in my life for seven years now. Blessings friends. SHINE!

 

IMG_0097

Retribution

I am seeing an ostomy nurse who specializes in patients with acute and chronic “wound” care. Things in the natural often mimic things in the spirit.

Wounds and pain are funny things. They have layers. They have smells and degrees of infection and pus. They can be covered up with a Band-Aid or douched in ointments, but if they keep getting infected, they never heal up to become scars. How do we deal with the people, situations, and traumas that have hurt us to the point we need an ostomy nurse?

Everyone I know has pain. A story. A wound. A past. We often try to take matters into our own hands and fix things that are causing us pain. We want to secretly punish our enemies or those who treat us with disrespect, contempt, isolation, jealousy, and hatred. We want our Father to expose them but cover us.

Many times we are standing in the face of a storm that’s so powerful the dust is stinging our eyes, and the tempest is shattering our peace. It’s during these times of difficulty that we scream, “Abba look what they are doing to me! Listen to what they are saying about me! Look how they have treated me in this relationship, this family, or on this job. We smugly add, “and after all, I have done for them!”

We keep track of their wrongs and our rights.

We want a God in those moments who looks a tad different than the God we want when we realize we have used our words to tarnish others. We have purposely treated others in a manner that was not with a servant’s heart but a selfish heart. We want this Father to overlook–to dismiss when we steal our brother’s birthright, or when we take our earthly father’s idols and hide them under our skirts. Yes, we want the compassionate and merciful Father at those times, but when we are wounded, we want a WARRIOR to stand and fight for us.

vein

186546_beautiful-wallpapers-desktop-backgrounds_1600x1200

 

My first night home from the hospital was slippery. I am swollen and hurting, and there is this bag attached to me. In certain glimpses, I am reminded of an old vacuum cleaner bag that connects over a round circular tube. My stomach looks quite bruised and this bag swinging from my abdomen is a foreign object that frightens me. I am not used to this contraption that makes sounds and becomes heavy on my thigh. I’m a bit overwhelmed by the boxes sent home with me. There are gloves, odor drops, disinfectants, wipes for my rolled up Velcro tab and sweeper bags.  I’m thinking a million thoughts. Mostly will I ever feel human again or like a vibrant, sexy woman?

I am not second guessing the surgery or the fact that the surgeon found scar tissue and places where my colon and intestines were seared together due to another surgery from 2004. I’m reminded of this faint journey where I referred to myself as the woman with the issue of blood. “Endometrial ablation is a procedure that surgically destroys (ablates) the lining of your uterus. The tools vary, depending on the method used to ablate the endometrium. They might include extreme cold, heated fluids, microwave energy or high-energy radio frequencies.”

No amount of juicing, fasting, cutting out sugars and carbs, and so on, could have un seared or straightened the zigzagged mess the surgeon ran into, but let’s get back to wounds and enemies.

After spending four nights in the hospital and one night at home with my new sack, I awake in the morning with a knowing that my colostomy bag has to come off. This doesn’t make sense, but I am sure Holy Spirit wants my husband to help me remove the bag and look at my stoma. As we uncovered my stoma, we see that it is separating and there is a gaping place. Possibly from throwing up much the day after surgery.

manning room

 

We take pictures and send them to the doctor’s office, and they contact the home health care nurse who patches and changes the bag and makes an appointment for me to see the ostomy nurse. But by that evening my stoma isn’t working, and my stomach is as red and swollen as a watermelon. In the natural, it looks like they may be rushing me to the OR. In other matters, my husband and I are battling painful problems with those we love. There seems to be a separating going on in more ways than one, and the wounds we are feeling hurt horribly. No patching can fix the underlying issues. What is happening in the natural is happening in the spirit. The waste isn’t coming forth to bring healing as there is no communication.

We get to the ER, and it’s a bustling Sabbath. It’s the last place we want to be. This ER is in an area of town laden with drugs, crime, and poverty. However, this hospital host some of the best doctors in the world. It’s touted for the first fully self-contained artificial heart transplant and the first successful hand transplantation.

We wait over an hour, and my pain is horrible. I’m crying and praying and looking around the room at many who needed set free from addiction, demons, and agony. Finally, I ask the lady at the desk how many are in front of me, and she says five. She then says let me check with the supervisor. Suddenly, a lady comes out and says, “Mrs. Manning we are not sure how this happened, but we show that you are already in a bed in the ER. Obviously, that is not you, but since you are already in our system, and you just had surgery, I’m going to get you a room. Hold still.” Baruch HaShem! He hears. He sees.

We sit back down, and a lady comes out to get my blood. She looks at my husband and says I’ll bring her right back,” I tell her I want my husband to come with me. She exhales roughly and says, “There is no reason for that ma’am, you are just getting blood drawn, and I’ll bring you back out–5 minutes tops.” I look at her again and mouth something like “I know the drill, or this isn’t my first rodeo.” She is quite ticked off now. I plead and explain that hospitals give me PTSD and she says “okay, come on, but this is ridiculous. He’s just going to walk right back out here in a second.” I feel the lack of compassion, and my heart hurts.

Both my arms are bruised from the I’V’s used before and after surgery. It seems my left arm went hard as a brick and they switched to my right. The phlebotomist finally finds a place on my right wrist. She places the tourniquet on tightly. I grimace with an “ouch!” To which she jabs the needle in my vein roughly. I look down, and the whole thing blows up like a balloon and turns greenish purple. It doesn’t really hurt, as the pain from my wound has overtaken any other pain in my body and made it minimal.  I secretly think she has done this on purpose, but I cannot be sure. I ask for a Kleenex as more tears come and she says harshly, “We don’t have any back here.” Suddenly, a lady two feet from her picks up a whole box and hands it to my husband and says “she can have the whole box.” The Phlebotomist ignores this. She is labeling vials and rummaging through things, and then she stands up and says something about getting us back out to the waiting room.

I look at my husband who is looking at my arm, the box of tissues and then back at Nurse Cullen from Twilight. He can tell people off without them realizing it until much later. I can tell that he is getting ready to let this lady have it. I say, “Don’t do it Chief. It’s not worth it. He looks at me and back at her. “Just let it go. It’s Shabbat.”  I see the wheels turning, and about the time his lips part to utter something, a male RN at the desk across from the blood station stops the commotion and says, “I will take them now.” He is quick to look at the photo of my stoma on my hubby’s phone. But as he is looking at my stomach and examining me, I see the Phlebotomist looking over and catching a bit of my colostomy bag and wondering what the picture might look like that my hubby was showing the RN. Had she overheard him say I might need surgery?

Next thing I know, I am in a bed in the hallway of the ER. Doctors and nurses are flying by and then suddenly the nurse who had drawn blood swoops over and says “oh, I’m so glad they got you a bed.” At a closer glance, I realize she is much older than me. She looks uncomfortable. I am looking at her strangely, like who are you? What is this nice act all the sudden? She looks at hubby and says let me get you a chair. She leaves and comes back carrying a black office chair. I can’t tell if this is genuine or if she’s scared we will complain about her. She offers to bring him water. Five minutes later she is back with a plea to bring me a heated blanket. She smiles exhaustedly, and I see it… That look that says I was wrong about you. I thought you were a wimp who couldn’t get poked without your hubby by your side.

She was saying she was sorry over and over, with no words. Hubby saw it too.

We’ve all heard this Torah verse quoted in an assembly or an old western movie, but what does it look like when it happens?

“Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord; I will repay.” Deuteronomy 32.35.

“Never pay back evil for evil to anyone. Respect what is right in the sight of all men. If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men. Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, “VENGEANCE IS MINE, I WILL REPAY,” says the Lord” Romans 12:17-19.

So many times we want to repay. My husband could have made that nurse feel small. He could have called her out—reported her, or even told her a thing or two, but would it have had the same result. Would she have brought him a chair in the ER? A warm blanket? Doubtful. So many times if we would just back off and say I’m going to let my Dad take care of it, He would. In His way. And His way will affect them much greater than we ever could.

1 Peter 3:9

“Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this, you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.”

Some people are so wounded it doesn’t matter what we do or say; they take offense. Often the person just doesn’t know us. They take our words, actions, and our very hearts wrong. Like that nurse who had no idea that I have had over a 100 vials taken in one sitting. I’m not scared of needles. I just like my husband by my side. I pled for my husband to come back there with me, and both of them did. My earthly husband and my heavenly Husband. What happens in the natural is happening in the spirit.

Don’t let folks treat you like a doormat, but also discern when to let the Father swoop in and take care of things. He will fight for you and is fighting for you in the background. You may not see it or know about it up close and personal, but trust me, He sees you! He also saw that nurse and had compassion on her. Being a nurse/servant can be a tough job, and at times we can be harsher than we need to be because we haven’t taken the time to fill our empty vessels up so we will have something to pour out. We’ve all been Nurse Cullen at one time or another, bruising others and overlooking the tools around us. Hopefully, we will have the grace and humility to offer a chair, water, or a warm blanket of love to those who come to our tent looking for refreshing waters, when we are as empty as the foolish virgin’s lamps.

 

 

Hate is?

blog hate

Hate is like a piece of yeast.
It permeates and puffs up with satisfaction
It says, “I am right!”
I hold truth!
I carry all knowledge!
I will rebuke!
It wipes its mouth with a napkin
And still the juice runs
Hate dripping off chins
Spilling over into diaper bins
And storefront shelves
Magazine covers,
Fake news
Hatred from the SAME WOMB.

What words will we choose?
To
Soak
In
Kerosene
And engulf in flames
A big ball of detestation
Abomination

Hate picks apart a man born of a woman
It pins labels neatly on their chest
Or even discusses the cup size of her breast

Hate inspects with microscopes
And pulls apart the chambers of one’s heart
And looks for dirt
It gladly finds a few choice particles and cries
AHA!
And holds it in its fist
Towards the one who created the dust and says,
LOOK!
See what I found
IN THEM.
As if Yah could not see the grease and sludge pumping through our wings

Hate never brushes its teeth.
It calls throughout the streets
Looking for flaws in people

She’s too skinny
Too white
Too black
Too blue
Too conservative
Too liberal
That dress won’t do

New age
Snowflakes
Ignorance is bliss
You Baptist
You Messianic
You Stinkin
Methodist

You Muslim
You Kabbalist
You
Fat
Rich
Jew,
You Whore
You Bastard
You Pompous
Proud
Fool!

Hate is a Parade
Noisy and loud
Marching proudly down streets
Getting the attention of everyone it meets
Hate invites us to wear white
And enter buildings where good people go
As we stretch out our pocketbooks on the front row

Hate is quiet
It’s silence during a time of applause
It can’t stand or clap for those whom it hates
It can’t even acknowledge
A floral bouquet
Why is that?
Might the one we hate smell better than our scented stew?
Oh hate, please take a look at YOU!
Might their floral arrangement
Blossom
and
Bloom
With more color
More fragrance
More honey
More
bees?
Oh, hate let love bring you to your knees!

Hate will try and cover the good that we do
Hate twists its lips while it shifts with its eyes
Hate acts as if it has nothing to hide

Hate passes the poor in the poverty rich streets
And whispers I am better than thee
They did it to themselves
It’s their own damn fault
And hate tightens its purse
Its wallet won’t belch
It wraps its wool scarf around its stiff proud neck

Hate cannot waste even a dribble of spit
It doesn’t even move its teeth
To celebrate
Another’s life
It loves jealousy,
envy
and strife

Hate has seeped into our pores
Even in the silence
It snores
Loudly in the stillness
Hovering in the dark
Hate cringes at one single scented spark
Of love

It whispers words
Green tainted
Streaks
Soaked into our walls
Encased with Leprosy
As hearts are searching for one
Single
Tiny
Mistake
To
Grasp
And splatter across the front page
And why?
For the sake of making us taller?
Better
Holier
Than thou?
As if we had all the answers
Like Job’s best friends
As if we could enunciate His Name
And pretend
To have His
Dust on our shoes
As if we were the one who ran to the tomb
On resurrection morning

Hate invites
It makes a request
Come, join in the gossip
Slander
The ‘those people’ salute
No, I think I’ll pass this time
I’m going to the juke
I’ll Smoke another cigar
Pray with a sinner at the bar
For the hatred has spread even among the ones
Who
Say
God
Loves
You and me!
And when we bow in front of heaven
And we smile, and we say
I am not like them
I am better, you see?
More righteous
More holy
More pure
And our lips part to utter
Words

Empty
Painted
Words
Floating up
Laced with snuff
A Lingering
Garbage dump of
Words shut up in our bones
rotting

Let us stop
May we
Inspect our own fruit
May we inspect our love?
And the weight thereof
Weighing it against the hate that’s still pumping through our veins
And wash
And submerge
In the waters of the muddy Jordon
And allow Him to scrub us clean
And echo His Words
The one who bled and died
For
ALL
The wombs that ever came forth
And inhaled Eden
Or crossed the Reed Sea
And left Egypt for a mouth
Flowing with milk
And honey!

Oh, Love come and save us from our lips,

And burst forth like the light of Sabbath rising over the hills.

into our parched hungry souls.

Help us to become

Whole

Echad.

 

Honky-Tonk?

 

Rooster, Bird, Chicken, Head, Farm Animal, Beak, Wattle

My friend Charlie has a huge white rooster that sparked my attention of late. Yes, her henhouse has caused me to write a story a time or two. While meditating on a blog post about light, Charlie sent a comment to me in an email about her rooster named Honky that I could not get out of my spirit. Yes, Honkey is a derogatory name given to a white man, but Honky the rooster isn’t concerned about what you call him. He’s just going to keep doing what he was created to do.

In Charlie’s words,

He is always excited with a new day, no matter what. He’s a fan of God’s ‘let there be light’ idea. Once I turn their light on, he starts stomping his feet on the roost and shaking his head and crowing more and more. As soon as I open the hatch door, the chickens rush out to begin another day, mostly like all the ones before, as if it was the grandest thing they have ever done. I wish to be as pampered and loved as my dogs, and as happy with each and every day as my chickens!”

Wise words, from a wise woman.

What if we were that excited about the light? His Lamp? Another day? So excited that we were cock-a-doodle-dooing as loud as we could to wake up others and express our joy in Him. Even if others place names on us that seem a bit disparaging, we can exalt the Creator of All.

 

“In the rabbinic literature, the cockcrow is used as general marking of time”,[55] but also some of the Sages interpreted the “cockcrow” to mean the voice of the Temple officer who summoned all priests, Levites, and Israelites to their duties and used as such because the Hebrew ‘gever’ was used also to mean a “rooster” in addition to the meaning of “man, strong man” (Tim Hegg, Torah research).

Summoned to their duties. . .

If we know what our duties are, then just like Honky, we are going to arise and shine, for our light has come, and the Glory of Adonai shines upon us! Time to get busy doing what we were created to do. But some of the hens and roosters don’t seem to know what their job is in The Body, so they have taken on what I call a police role. These folks are busy looking for anyone who is doing or saying, writing or posting, anything that might not be right or correct in their opinion, and even if they are not a rooster, they are cock- a—doodle–dooing about it all over town. Sometimes this is a sign of a young, immature prophet. They’ve been given eyes to see every flaw but not always a polished tongue. We need schools of the prophets today, and also their voices heard in the assemblies. If you are the head rooster of a henhouse, you may want to invite some others to cock-a-doodle-doo from time to time.

I was very sad to read comments from many in The Body who were ridiculing a man named Billy Graham. This man was righteous and walking in something Charlie refers to as ‘all the light he had been given for that time period.’ His generation didn’t have Hebrew and Greek at their fingertips. He was humble– not flashy. He and his son’s ministry have helped many Christians from being beheaded in other countries, feeding and clothing the ones running from war and famine—Samaritans Purse is about giving.

Who has come forth out of the womb knowing all the Torah and prophets, and all of our Messiahs teachings? No one. Not even our greatest Rabbi or Scribe, pastor or preacher. They all needed teachers and most of us hens cackling over “pagan” holidays were right up under a tree a decade ago or sooner.

One interesting site on the behaviors and characteristics of roosters caught my attention. The article began by describing something I have seen in this new movement—ruffled feathers and cockfights.

Betty explains:

Chickens can be very vocal, as anyone who’s heard a rooster crow knows. They’re able to express more than 30 different sounds and have keen hearing. Hens use special sounds to lure their chicks and cackle when they lay eggs. They’ve even been heard crowing. Roosters start crowing around 4 or 5 months of age and make other noises, including warning sounds when predators are near. They also make noises to lure hens to food or to follow them.”

Betty goes on to explain that “Roosters are great at protecting hens, but too many roosters can mean violent fights in the roost.” Click here.

I see a lot of this rooster, henpecking behavior today. Grab some coffee and play pinball with my brain a minute.

Roosters are sort of like Shepherds.

Mostly today, we have a massive amount of people pouring out of the Christian faith and into the Torah/Hebraic roots of their faith. They are trying to walk in the footsteps of their Messiah, but what if some of the hens are actually Roosters? What if the Roosters are actually hens?

What you talkin bout, Tekoa?

Well, at first it’s hard to tell which is which. Ask anyone you know raising chickens, and unless they are an expert, they just wait until the birds are over 3, 4, or five months old and look at their combs and feathers, as well as spurs used for fighting. So technically, a young, immature rooster may still know he has a calling on his life to protect hens and announce the light, but perhaps he hasn’t grown into his plumage so to speak. That doesn’t make him a fake or false rooster. He is still a rooster in need of training. Maturing.

The roosters get up on a perch where they can keep an eye out to protect their hens, and if any predator is coming around, he sounds a call to warn them. But how can the ones coming out of Christianity know which rooster to sit under? And what if one rooster is more colorful than, say, solid, white, Honkey rooster? And since we have the great World Wide Web, and not many henhouses, we have hens eating food from every place by every Tom, Dick, and Honky. Some bad food, some good food, and some in-between.

How can we tell a good Rooster from a bad one? If they are like Honkey and their eyes are on Him and His light, and they are protecting hens, feeding them and being intimate, then that’s a pretty good sign, but if they are always crowing, meddling in other henhouses, feeding food that’s laced with GMO’s, always magnifying aliens or hasatan, fighting over what time the sun comes up and whose got the best combs—-FLY away from the coo coo nest before you get de-feathered or your neck wrung!

 

If you are a hen running from roost to roost, the Roosters are not going to know what to do with you or even if they are supposed to protect you, correct you, or be intimate with you. If you are sitting at home and have a place in your area to gather with believers, then see if you can, because we need to be a part of our communities. How is a Rooster or a hen doing any good in a recliner with a clicker looking at television light instead of the sun/ Son coming up? Yes, we need teachers, and the internet is a wonderful place to learn, but don’t let it replace gathering and lifting one another up in prayer.

The term ‘chickens have come to roost,’ refers to the place where birds rest. And this is what we need. Spiritual Rest.

I watched a show about Yah’s amazing planet the other night, and they highlighted something called light pollution. This is something we have in the Body of Yeshua and also something we have on earth today. Yes, it’s a real problem and especially for His Creation. Remember these fearful words in Revelations?

“And the nations were enraged, and Your wrath came, and the time came for the dead to be judged, and the time to reward Your bond-servants the prophets and the saints and those who fear Your name, the small and the great, and to destroy those who destroy the earth.” Revelation 11:18 NASB.

So this light pollution is a false light. This false light is loud and noisy and draws a person into a trap. While watching Planet Earth with my husband, we were grief-stricken by hundreds of hatchling turtles covering the beach. They were enticed by the lights of the city. They hatched during the full moon, and should have been drawn to the ocean, but instead, they were headed across a beach towards a town lit up like Vegas. Eighty percent of the baby turtles were disoriented by the town lights. Crabs were excited and began to make burrows below the beach lights, and they waited for the turtles to come to them to devour. Some of the sea turtles fell in sewer drains while others were run over by cars.

Now we have a perfect picture of what this whole movement looks like. The sounds and flashing lights of the polluted world have infected all of us like a Honky-tonk. We don’t know where to go or what to do. The crabs (wolves) are waiting, the sewage is also easy to fall into, and even if we live our whole life trying to be just like Honkey, someone may come along and run over us.

You can watch the sea turtles here.

We need Roosters, and if we aren’t a rooster, we need to find a rooster, and one who is open to allowing our gifts and talents, positions even, to be used to help edify the body—His Body. Even those priest in charge of carrying the ashes out of the camp were important. No gift is too big or too small. Where are the Elders? Where are the prophets? Where are those who have eyes and ears, gifts of healing the brokenhearted, gifts of interpreting the Torah in other languages? Carefully study a coop and you will soon find that all the hens have jobs to do, and some who are not roosters can even cock a doodle doo as well as ole Honkey!

The light pollution and the Torah police have caused many to fly the coop. If the Father has sent people across our path that are willing and able to form a Body that is fitly joined together with everyone knowing their roles, please get to gathering and announcing, so the sea hatching turtles who have lost their way can hear you and steer clear from danger. Let the Body do what the Body does. Can the eye hear? If the whole body were hearing where would the sense of smell be? We can’t control the whole beach, but we can help direct these little ones to His light. I have four different lights in my bedroom– an overhead light, a closet light, a brightly adjustable desk lamp and a soft lamp by my bed for reading. If you turn one on the rooms grows brighter, add another and another and another and bam! Which leads me to the end of this pinball game.

And the city has no need of the sun or of the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God has illumined it, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it.” Revelation 21:23-24.

But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, That shines brighter and brighter until the full day.” Proverbs 4:18.

 

You are the light of the world–Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven. Matthew 5:14-16.

Yes, let’s all be more like Honky and get excited about His light and the gift of another day. Let’s blow our shofars and sound the alarm to wake up the ones polluted by artificial light and let’s try and respect those who may not be as mature as we are. Remember we all come from different chicken coops.

Enjoy my beautiful friend and mentor, Jeannie cock a doodle dooing a song for Him!

Photo- https://pixabay.com/en/rooster-bird-chicken-head-1246302/

 

Ten Plus Things Not to Say to Sick People and Why

Before you get to the meat of the message below, I want to voice that I believe Our Father is Big enough to heal any manner of sickness and disease, and one day He will! We must teach the next generation to care for His fantastic earth.
I believe our children’s children will grieve over plastic, toxins, the way food is grown, chemicals spilling into our water and each creature that sings and walks among us, from those extinct to those waiting to hatch or come forth.

I also believe that Our Father at times allows life to live. If He wanted to heal every child sitting in a Cancer hospital today, He could, but often this is not what we see. Why? Whether you want to hear this or not, many times we need to look at things and experience things in order to be humbled and to gain compassion and also to pray. To all my friends and family out there who are in the medical industry, thank you for being a servant daily to those who are weak in body. May He use you mightily for His Glory. May you see miracles come forth in the natural and in the spiritual realm.
I pray this blog helps all of us, including myself, taste our words to those suffering before we release them.

“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus replied: Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9:2).

Ten plus things not to say to Sick People and Why.

1. Have you tried organic, free range, bone broth, essential oils, magnesium, flaxseed oil, fasting, juicing, raw foods, apple cider vinegar, castor oil, colon cleansers, yoga, Vitamin D, cutting out sugar and diet cokes, earthing, grounding, and so forth?
2. You need to have faith and accept healing.
3. We need to find some really anointed people to pray for you.
4. Have you been through deliverance because this could be a spiritual condition?
5. If you were serious about your health, you could be healed like I was.
6. Don’t speak it. You are snared by the words of your mouth.
7. Perhaps it’s mental?
8. You need to find a good church.
9. I feel so sorry for you or I know an excellent doctor.
10. But you look great!
You look terrible!
You just need to go for a walk and get some sunlight.

blog hate

 

Number #1: Most people who have a chronic illness or autoimmune disease have done much research, and if they’ve had it for any length of time, as in years, they’ve probably tried multiple things more than once.
We know these people mean well and sometimes we may want to try the latest vitamin, supplement, protein, cabbage fermented juice, mineral water, alkaline water, acupuncture, biofeedback, chiropractic, yoga, kinesiology, homeopathy, aromatherapy iridology, massage and other forms of bodywork, meditation and visualization, nutritional therapy, and so on. How a person words it can be helpful, so let’s watch our words.

Number #2: Having faith is something most sick people have. Faith as in the sense of trusting in Our Father. Not some mental word that we practice until we believe it. Faith requires action. Most people who have an illness cry out for healing, and they probably are way past the name it and claim it gig. Even the Apostle Paul only asked three times for the thorn in his flesh to be removed.
“Because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me—to keep me from exalting myself! Concerning this, I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me. And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong” (2nd Corinthians 12:7-10 NASB).
Many believe his weakness was his eyesight. He was blinded for three days, but many of his letters hint to not being able to see well.
Several people in the Bible may not have had faith/trust, but their mother or father or even their master did. And some of them, like the servant girl below, and a young daughter vexed with demons, did not even have anyone touch them. They were healed in that very hour.
“When Jesus heard this he was amazed at him and, turning, said to the crowd following him, “I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith. When the messengers returned to the house, they found the slave in good health” (Luke 7:9-10).

Number # 3: Yes, prayer is powerful. But again, if a person has been sick for a decade or more, they’ve probably had many people who were ‘anointed’ pray for them and with them. One of the most anointed people in the Bible died in his disease–a man who raised the dead. ” Now Elisha was fallen sick of his sickness whereof he died” (2nd Kings 13:14). Also, be careful with that word ‘anointed,’ as it may not mean what you were taught it did.

Number # 4: Yes, deliverance is needed many times for not just the sick but those who are strong. Some of the most vexed with demonic issues have more strength than King Kong. Ask a police officer who has had a hard time even handcuffing a ninety-pound lady because of this. If a person has been sick for any length of time, and they love the Father, more than likely they have been through ‘deliverance’ or fasted for a length of time and had prayer for this issue. Again be careful how you word things. I believe if we are walking the path of righteousness, that we should be getting delivered of waste and our flesh daily, if not weekly and indeed during the days of fasting and inner searching.

Number #5: This is usually a plea for someone to stop eating bad food, drinking, not exercising and making sure the person understands that if they would only drink purified water and food that is alive, they could be healed. Many times, in my own life, it has appeared that I eat way too much, due to medications, or being pumped with steroids in order to regain strength. Other times due to gastroparesis, a stomach condition where the muscles do not work correctly, I cannot eat raw foods. I’ve been to the hospital before overeating grapes. Most of the time, what I eat when I am invited to a party or family function is not what I eat at home, but occasionally you have to enjoy something. My philosophy, not necessarily yours.

Number #6: The name it and claim it prophesies. Blab it and grab it… Self-forecasting magical potion. All we have to do is proclaim our healing in the name of Jesus Yeshua and bingo-presto… Where does this come from? “You have been snared with the words of your mouth…” (Proverbs 6:2). But what does it say before this verse and after? “My son, if you guarantee a loan for your neighbor or pledge yourself for a stranger with a handshake, you are trapped by the words of your own mouth, caught by your own promise. Do the following things, my son, so that you may free yourself because you have fallen into your neighbor’s hands: Humble yourself, and pester your neighbor” (Proverbs 8:1-3 GWT). Yes, life and death are in the power of the tongue, but we can push this too far.
The Berean research had this to say,
“Fred Price may proclaim “we don’t allow sickness in our home,” but his wife still has cancer. Kenneth Hagin brags that he has not had a headache, the flu, or even “one sick day” in nearly 60 years, but he has had four cardiovascular crises. Paul Crouch (prayers) may have healed Oral Roberts of chest pains on a TBN Broadcast, but it didn’t stop Oral from having a heart attack a few hours later (Christianity in Crisis, pp. 237-238). How are these things explained away? Predictably, by blaming them on the devil. Sickness in the Word-Faith camp is usually seen as satanic attacks that must be repelled by words of faith (i.e., “positive confession”).”

Number #7: Mental health and physical health, as well as spiritual health, go together. We are one complete person. We are not separated. “Beloved, I pray that in every way you may prosper and enjoy good health, as your soul also prospers.”3rd John 1:2. This verse is saying prosper in all ways. He is praying that these folks are complete—whole and in good health even in their spiritual walk.
When you look at what defines mental health, you may be surprised by what all is on the list. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)– Anxiety/Panic Disorder–Bipolar Disorder—Depression–and even alcohol abuse is listed as a mental disorder. This is why we need to be careful with our words. I say ‘we,’ as I fail in this area as well.
If you have never been depressed, not even after childbirth or the death of a loved one, you may need to rethink your antidepressant. Our bodies are equipped with emotions. Numb people can’t feel anything. They are like walking dead. Mental illness comes in many different colors and also deserves all the empathy and compassion any other illness such as Cancer gets.

Number #8:
Many times people, and especially the older generation, think of wholeness being attained by how many times you sit in a pew or place an amount of money in an offering plate. But the ‘church’ and even the word ‘church’ has been misconstrued in our Bibles. It was translated from the word assembly. We are to gather and yes, not forsake gathering together, but what were they gathering together for? In Acts, it was a Feast day—Shavuot/ Pentecost. Three of these Feast are called foot festivals. They gathered together throughout the whole Bible for Feast days. He is returning on a Feast day. Matter a fact, they were gathering at times in houses and other places of interest like hillsides and fishing boats.

Number #9: Sick people don’t want pity. They used to juggle one, if not two jobs, school, homeschooling, being single parents, possibly the CEO of a large company and more. Many of them were and are fighters. They want empathy and compassion, but unless you have experienced physical debilitating illnesses, you may struggle with this one. Again, most people who have been chronically ill for a long time have had several doctors. Some, even like myself, have been to Mayo Clinic or other research hospitals. Unless the person asked you directly for advice on finding a new doctor, select your words carefully.

Number #10: This one is by far the trickiest. Telling someone they look great shouldn’t be a problem right? My mother had Parkinson’s disease, Hashimoto, and later on colon cancer, but most of the time, even while shaking and in great pain, she looked great. Sometimes this comment sends an underlying message that the person must be fine and feel fine if they look good. I know many people in wheelchairs who look good but feel like death. The opposite of this is being told you look awful or horrible. Neither of these is the right approach for someone suffering. I know that may sound confusing, but trust me, it’s not helpful. Looks are often misleading.
I hope this list has been helpful and if you or a loved one is dealing with chronic pain today, my heart goes out to you and them. My prayer is that He completely restores you and I know one day, if not now, He will!
For more on this teaching, you can listen to my latest podcast on Lamb Messianic Radio via the BEKY Book show with wonderful host and author Dr. Robin Gould.
For more understanding on sickness and what the Bible has to say about it, read my free chapter from Doctrines of Demons # 1 here.

Sources: Painting by Tekoa Manning
Photo by Andrew Mushekov
The Berean Research: https://bereanresearch.org/word-faith-movement/
BEKY Books and Lamb Radio: http://www.bekybooks.com/beky-radio.html
Dr Robin Gould and latest release: https://www.amazon.com/Forgiveness-Tarts-Robin-Gould.
Dr. Robin Gould and her BEKY Books: https://www.amazon.com/Robin-Gould/e/B01L8ET7WS/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1518559571&sr=1-2

Listen to a recent interview of Tekoa with Dr. Robin Gould on The BEKY Books Show radio program. Program starts at the 8:47 timestamp.

The Kidneys and the Ears

listennn

For thou hast possessed my kidneys: thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb.” Psalm 139:13 JB. “I shall bless Lord Jehovah who counsels me and my kidneys teach me in the nights.” Psalm 16:7 AB.

 

I’m five or six years old, and it hurts to breathe. I’m feverish. The doctor puts his stethoscope on my chest and tells me to take a deep breath’s, which is difficult. He removes his lighted earpiece and looks deep into my ear canal. He asked me if my ears hurt. I answer in shallow rasps. As he peers, he says something to me that today seems humorous. He says, “What have you been planting in there, corn or potatoes?” I sink down and become embarrassed that I have dirty ears. Forget that I’m dying. Not really, but you get the gist of the situation.

I was ashamed that I wasn’t clean. Of course, as I type this, I realize I have often had dirty ears. Yes, ears crammed and packed full of potatoes. He tells my mother I have asthmatic pneumonia; while I sit wondering in childlike fashion, what is growing inside my ear canal.

As I write this blog, my husband has eczema and is currently dealing with an itching ear. His left. I ponder a swab of olive oil on a Q-tip to soothe this. Later, I wonder if perhaps peroxide would bubble up and lessen the itch. After a week of constant irritation, today the doctor has sent out steroid drops to soothe this issue. I will close this blog with a scripture about itching ear words.

We have two ears and two kidneys. Hearing the most profound truth is attributed to the kidneys: “The Kidneys give advice” (Babylonian Talmud, Chulin 11a). Ancient Chinese medicine also connects the kidneys with the ears and our ability to hear.

Our ears and our kidneys look very similar. Slice a kidney in half, and you get this.

 

kidneyyy

 

 

We hear, but we do not listen. We talk, but we do not choose our words carefully.

The prophet explains our condition: “You are near in their mouth but far from their kidneys” (Jeremiah 12:2 ISR). Our Bible translators have replaced the word kidney with rein or heart and often as inward parts, but kidneys were the original wording. It was the sweet fat of the sacrifices. Our kidneys purify us. They separate the good from the bad.

“The position of the kidneys in the body makes them particularly inaccessible, and in cutting up an animal, they are the last organs to be reached. Consequently, they were a natural symbol for the most hidden part of a man (Psalm 139:13), and in Job 16:13 to “cleave the reins asunder” is to affect the total destruction of the individual (compare Job 19:27 Lamentations 3:13). This hidden location, coupled with the sacred sacrificial use, caused the kidneys to be thought of as the seat of the innermost moral (and emotional) impulses.” For more info on this topic click here.

“The Sages teach that:

  1. The kidneys advise us on what to do.
  2. ALL cognitive functions relating to making decisions occur in the heart and kidneys.
  3. NOTHING relating to this occurs in the brain. (see too Midrash Tehillim 14)
  4. One kidney advises to do good, one to do evil (this is presumably intended literally, since it is stated immediately next to the statement about the function of the organs).
  5. When God wants to judge whether we are good or not, He examines the heart and kidneys, not the brain.”

“ A person has two kidneys, one of which counsels him to do good, and the other counsels him to do evil. And it is reasonable that the good one is on his right and the evil one on his left, as it is written, “The heart of the wise man is to his right, and the heart of a fool is to his left.” (Talmud ibid.)

During the Jewish morning praises, there is a prayer called Nishmat or the breath of every living thing…It says this:

“For every mouth is in acknowledgement to You, and every tongue swears to You, and every knee bows to You, and every erect spine prostrates itself to You, and all hearts fear You, and all innards and kidneys praise Your Name, as it is written, “All my bones say, Who is like You, O God.”

Our kidneys AND BONES praise Him!

Science has discovered that hearing loss and moderate kidney disease are connected. Our kidneys filter our blood and remove toxins which go into our bladder and are excreted from our bodies. When they don’t work right, they can damage nerves and yes, hearing. Our Creator is perfect and each organ functions to cause a complete and perfect body. May His Body begin to function in the Spirit of truth, unity, and complete harmony as 1st Corinthians 12.

Our ears are like our hearts. Our hearts need the flesh cut off, and so do our ears.

To whom shall I speak and give warning That they may hear? Behold, their ears are closed–And they cannot listen. Behold, the word of the LORD has become a reproach to them;They have no delight in it” (Jeremiah 6:10).

I once had a friend who would try and show me scriptures that I could not see. She spoke words that I could not hear. I heard her mouth moving and enunciating the scriptures, but someone had already stood in front of me year after year proclaiming a different picture. Her words were not worth hearing. I knew more. Her exhausted facial features expressed how ‘put out’ she was with me not hearing and receiving. No matter how hard she tried to open the verses up to me, I had dirty ears. I had potatoes in my ears. My kidneys and heart were not open to hearing her. I had kidney issues. I had heart issues. I had a pride issue.

This woman had no doctorate degree. She was sick. She wasn’t wealthy. Matter a fact she was quite the opposite. She wasn’t going to ‘church’ every week. I had been taught by men behind pulpits that sickness, poverty, and issues that were not positive were due to a person’s sins. They were out of church. They were perhaps not tithers. They were ignorant. Her explanations on His Feast & Sabbaths were interesting, but why would I listen to someone like her? She was in bondage. I was free (Sarcasm). James tells us to be quick to listen, but are we? Are we quicker to listen to those we esteem?

Last week, I walked out of our meeting, and the car parked next to ours had a license plate that said, “Listen.” This week’s Torah portion is not listen but Vaera which means “I appeared.” However, listening is the main theme of this portion. The Israelites would not listen to Moses. He had uncircumcised lips. Pharaoh would not listen. He had an uncircumcised heart. “But Moses spoke before the LORD, saying, “Behold, the sons of Israel have not listened to me; how then will Pharaoh listen to me, for I am unskilled in speech?” Exodus 6:12. Verse nine explains why their ears were shut. “Moses told this to the Israelites, but they did not listen to him because of their broken spirit and hard labor.” HCS.

Sometimes we have been through so much hell even a morsel of hope is not accepted.

When Yeshua spoke, many picked up stones. When Stephen spoke the people put their fingers in their already dirty ears, and they too picked up stones. Stephen told the complete Biblical account and ended with this…

“You men who are stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears are always resisting the Holy Spirit; you are doing just as your fathers did. “Which one of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? They killed those who had previously announced the coming of the Righteous One, whose betrayers and murderers you have now become; you who received the law as ordained by angels, and yet did not keep it” (Acts 7:51-53 NASB).

“He who turns away his ear from listening to the law (instructions), Even his prayer is an abomination” (Proverbs 28:9).

The prophet Isaiah when asked who will go to these people with hard hearts, says,  “Here am I. Send me!”

He said, “Go, and tell this people: ‘Keep on listening, but do not perceive; Keep on looking, but do not understand.’ “Render the hearts of this people insensitive, Their ears dull, And their eyes dim, Otherwise they might see with their eyes, Hear with their ears, Understand with their hearts, And return and be healed” (Isaiah 6:9-10 NASB).

Be healed from what? Diabetes? MS? Pneumonia?

No, something far worse. Kidney disease.

I’m going to close this blog with ears that itch. They itch to hear things. What type of things? Blessings, prosperity, honor of men, fame, mansions and everything good. No correction, no suffering, no poverty, no humbleness, nothing that would cause an ounce of repentance… only itching ear words that no matter how hard you scratch, cannot be soothed because the flesh is never satisfied.

“Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort, with great patience and instruction. For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance to their own desires, and will turn away their ears from the truth and will turn aside to myths. But you, be sober in all things, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry” (2nd Timothy 4:2-5).

I’ll continue to rebuke the false prophets and those who preach for filthy gain. I will continue to call out those who preach that His Feast and Torah are done away with. I will continue to stand with olive oil and peroxide, and I will try and clean my own ears.

 

Sources:

photo: Bonnie Manning

https://hods.org/pdf/The%20Question%20of%20the%20Kidneys%20Counsel.pdf

Biblehub.com

http://www.rationalistjudaism.com/2010/05/kidney-summary.html

What’s New With Tekoa?

 

Welcome readers! I’m eager to announce my 7th release will be out soon! It’s been an exciting month and quite a journey. Doctrines of Demons #3 is going to be a book you’ll want to give to every fire-breathing dragon you meet 🙂  It’s a book that has taken a while to write and many hours of research. I can’t wait to get it in the hands of those who have always pondered the afterlife.

I began writing stories in my head and heart as a little girl. And, I did so daily, until one day in 4th or 5th grade. According to my teacher, my poem about spring wasn’t mine. She accused me of plagiarism– quite sure I had stolen a poem from Emily Dickerson. The teacher called a meeting with my mother, and a school counselor demanded to know the origin of the poem. I didn’t understand what plagiarism meant and I sure didn’t know Emily Dickerson; but, I did know that my poem caused my parents and teachers to be very upset with me. So, I stopped writing.

“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.”
Emily Dickinson

Flash to me at age thirty—I was a late bloomer entering college in the 90s. My wonderful English professor, who had a doctorate in English literature, told me I had a gift. She told me I was a writer. She encouraged me to enter a writing contest about women through the ages. And, I won. You can read that poem here.

Then, shortly before college graduation, I developed a debilitating neurological condition that caused me to lose my health, my job, and, ultimately, my home. What I gained was worth more than gold. It awakened me to my spiritual condition.

With my new found weakness and fatigue, I began to study scripture with binocular vision and soon my concordance fell apart. I also began to do what I wanted to do my whole life—write. I dug up spiral notebooks of stories I had started in the late 90s and with the encouragement and help from two dear friends, I finished both novels.

After two years, I was thrown into multiple ministries and completed my first teaching book, Doctrines of Demons Part #1. You can read a free chapter here. Part #3 will be released soon.

My husband and I started It’s All About Him because we have a desire to bind up the broken hearted. We want every word He has given us and all profit to go to the shattered, the hurt, and the sick, as well as, widows, orphans, and shut-ins. We also long to help homeless Veterans and those who have lost homes due to sickness, disease or addiction. And always, what are you, my readers, struggling with right now that needs hope, light, healing? Let’s encourage one another in this season and hold up weak arms.

Thank you for supporting our ministry, and allowing us to encourage and help others. We are so grateful for all of you who inspire and encourage us daily.

I was pleasantly surprised to be invited back on Renewed with Dr. Deborah Wiley and Kisha Gallagher.  Thank you ladies for the opportunity to discuss dreams and more on Hebrew Nation Radio. It was truly an honor.

A special thank you to Lynette Marie Smith and Tina Mackin. After much prayer, my husband and I were pleasantly surprised when The Father led not one, but two marketers to our weekly meetings. We have been so blessed by Lynette, a graphic design artist, and Tina, a communications consultant. Lynette has breathed fresh life into our Facebook pages and book design headers, while Tina has reworded my bio, giving my readers a greater understanding of my heart and my work.

 

Many Blessings and shalom!

Tekoa Manning

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Chickens, Rejection, and Pecking Order

I’m not a country girl, so you can understand my shock when I learned from a good friend of mine who raises hens, that chickens will peck a newcomer to death.  As my friend began to explain to me how she had purchased four new hens to add to her group, she said, “Tekoa I wouldn’t dare just try and add one.” I sat there confused.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because they will peck them to death” she stated, emphatically. “They’ll get up to the new ones and start pecking their beaks and eyeballs, and once they get some blood coming forth, the rest join in a frenzy. There is a pecking order,” she said.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.  I started realizing how difficult it is to be the new person at school, a new job, in a new family, and other places of social activity.  During my research on this topic, I also discovered that rejection and bullying can cause multiple health issues, neurological disorders, and a host of fears.

Rejection is a word that comes from Latin and means to be “thrown backward.” You’ve heard the cliché, “two steps forward and three steps back.”  It’s the same thing.  You can be rejected due to a weight issue, a birth defect, your race, or even success. You can also be rejected because you are beautiful, intelligent, or unique.  Sometimes rejection is due to fear or jealousy.  One of the worst rejections to experience is one from your very own family or a family you marry into.  Guess who else was rejected by the ones He loved?

“He came to his own people, and even they rejected him.” John 1:11 NLT.

Jesus/Yeshua was rejected by the twelve when he needed them the most.  He had to walk people out of his own hometown because He (The Son of Yahweh) was not able to heal many due to their unbelief.  He was rejected by men who said they would die for Him (Peter) only to deny they ever knew Him.

Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, a well-known trauma researcher, explains; “Research has shown that, under ordinary conditions, many traumatized people, including rape victims, battered women, and abused children, have a fairly good psychosocial adjustment.  However, they do not respond to stress the way other people do.  Under pressure, they may feel (or act) as if they were traumatized all over again.”

Here is the problem: They are thrown backward!

But what is happening to our systematic nervous system when we feel threatened, rejected, and shunned?  Or even worse, what happens when you are being hen pecked to death?  The systematic nervous system or what one site refers to as SNS is worth learning about.

Jurriaan Plesman BA (Psych writes this, “…An overactive SNS is likely to open up blood vessels and flood your face, neck, and ears in blushing.  Other possible symptoms are: dizziness, shaking, trembling, (as when giving a talk in front of people), digestive disorders, swallowing problems, nausea, vomiting, or fear of vomiting or diarrhea, irregular heartbeats, ticks and restless legs, excessive sweating, depersonalization, incontinence, impotence, repetitive thoughts… on and on it goes.  It is obvious that these mental and bodily reactions help to prepare the body for strenuous and quick actions in the face of danger.”

Wow! A lot is going on in our bodies when we are being surrounded by a group of hens fighting for their order.

Perhaps you’ve experienced being the new chicken in the chicken yard a time or two.  I can honestly say it’s not fun.  You can get hen pecked to death, and yes, once the blood comes, it seems the other chickens do join in.  That’s why parents hate bullies.  No one wants to watch their child get hurt at a new school or neighborhood.  No spouse wants to watch their husband or wife be rejected by their friends or family members.  No young teenager or college student wants to feel like an outcast in the room.  Being a new stepmother or father can be difficult. Being a new teacher, a new student, a new employee, can sure stir up the chicken yard.

Remember how the word rejection meant “thrown back?” Well, that’s important, because it has been shown time and again that the more free throws a player misses, the worse he or she will do at the line.  Why?  Because he is so worried about making the shot, so nervous and on edge about the score, team pressure and so forth, that he/she misses it again.  It’s like trying to fit in at a new school, or in a new family, a new job, a new leadership spot, if each time you try and reach out for acceptance, you get shunned, eventually it looks too hard to keep trying.  We give up.  Why?  Because we get thrown backward.

Webster defines rejection as to refuse to accept, consider, submit to, take for some purpose, or use.  It goes on to say, to refuse to hear, receive, or admit.”  Rejection is one of the worst feelings a person can feel.

“Psychologist Jessica Witt at Purdue University found that after a series of missed field goal kicks, players perceived the field post to be taller and narrower than before.  However, after a series of successful kicks, athletes reported the post to appear larger than before.” It is easy to witness the power of rejection. The more we encounter rejection, the more we view our efforts as pointless, the less we try, and the farther away our goal seems.  It’s like the four chickens my friend tried to add to the bunch; they just weren’t fitting in.

So I wanted to go farther with this devotional and get to the root as to why people reject others.

“Now Israel loved Joseph more than any of his other sons, because he had been born to him in his old age; and he made an ornate robe for him.  When his brothers saw that their father loved him more than any of them, they hated him and could not speak a kind word to him.” Genesis 37:3 NIV.  Jealousy…

David said this, “Those who hate me without cause outnumber the hairs on my head.  Many enemies try to destroy me with lies, demanding that I give back what I didn’t steal.”  Psalm 69:4 NLT.   Jesus/Yeshua said the same thing in John 15:24-25, “If I had not done among them the works which no one else did, they would not have sin; but now they have both seen and hated Me and My Father as well. “But they have done this to fulfill the word that is written in their Law, ‘They hated me “without a cause.” NASB.

Do people hate you without cause?  Do they try and peck you to death?  You’re in good company.

David said, “Ruthless witnesses come forward; they question me on things I know nothing about.”  Psalm 35:11 NIV.

The prophet Isaiah said this about Jesus. “He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.”  Isaiah 53:3 ESV.

Perhaps you are in a new chicken coop, and the players are pecking you to pieces.  Remember they did it to Jesus/Yeshua and Joseph.  Perhaps you are tired of trying to fit in the chicken yard and tired of being thrown backward?

I know a man who also had a chicken problem, and now he is famously known all over the world.  Harland David Sanders: Better known as Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken was thrown backward a time or two.  The Colonel had a hard time selling his chicken at first. In fact, his famous secret chicken recipe was rejected 1,009 times before a restaurant accepted it.  Don’t let the chickens peck you to death–chances are you don’t belong in the yard with them.  Birds of a feather flock together, but the mighty eagle, he soars alone.

If you’d like to purchase this devotional for yourself or a friend click here

If this post has blessed you feel free to share.

Blessings!

Tekoa

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Candy Apple Leaves

Yellowed candy apple leaves floated down the skies and melted into the grassy brown earth.

The wind sang in her ears.

It shrieked with delight, whipping and twirling more leaves, causing them to dance a forceful Allegro!

The sun crackled from a fire on the horizon, and her heart drank in winter like a warm chimney puffing softly in the folded hills that seemed to request snow.

Their bareness needed a covering.

Who made a storehouse for the snow?

It was the same one who opened the water spouts.

The same one who filled the womb.

His breath had filled everything with LIFE and was tossing up dead leaves to the wind.

She wrapped the scarf around her cheeks and felt guilty for loving the sandy beaches that left the soles of her feet as warm as her heart that burst at the sound of the ocean’s voice which was louder and grander than the greatest sound she had ever heard– minus the cries of her son’s taking their first breaths.

His VOICE!

He was born in November and tossed with gold. A grandson named Truth.

Such wonders untold.

Holding life in the palms of her hands.

Letting go of dead things.

Sweeping leaves up from her floor into heaps to burn.

Watching the faces of her son’s dream a dream, and seeing it come forth from the bitter bare hills of nothing.

Could something so warm be born in the month of Cheshvan?

Could a flood of water pour over her and her seed?

Although her legs felt like dead trunks, suddenly she could leap like a prima donna assoluta.

The sky opened its gates, and the birds all gathered in place.

They were as white as the snow that had started to fall in a steady rhythm.

The sound of stringed instruments and a fragrance of cassia, myrrh, and cinnamon bark dripped from the trees, and they began to bud with new leaves in the midst of winter.

Almond buds like cherry tree blossoms weighted down the arms of the trees, and she glided ever so softly into His hand, and He carried her to a quiet place.

“Rest my child,” He said, and this time she was obedient and did.

 

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BOOK REVIEW: Walter – The Homeless Man by Tekoa Manning Best Blog India!

BOOK REVIEW: Walter – The Homeless Man by Tekoa Manning
November 2, 2017
@amanhimself  Link for Review

Walter Cover Final

Pages: 512, Paperback
Published: 2013 by It’s All about Him, Inc.
Cover Rating: 4/5

I am glad I got the chance to read this exceptional work. It is a wonderful feeling for a reader to read a book that has a strong on going plot with mature and very well build characters. This quality to be expressed in the form of writing is rare, and Manning has displayed this through her novel.

Walter: The Homeless Man is a story about a man in the sixties who has suffered a loss and is trying to avoid the pain that came afterward. He is on the run in a different town where he sleeps under the stars and in the day, breaks into a young widow’s home for shelter. Unknown to him, his routine touches every life in that home changes the course of their lives. A misunderstanding that is displayed in a fruitful manner starts another journey for Walter, that changes him for the good.

The plot of this book is smooth that possess a series of events happening one after the other in a manner of completing the puzzle. The theme touches include integrity of man, forgiveness, and redemption. The plot revolves around our protagonist, Walter but the two subplots that meet at a point do take a massive space inside the book. I like the way the author has entwined characters with plots and forming a perfect ending to the book. The plot has steady pace that grows further, and a reader would be able to finish this book into time. I was hooked by the plot, the characters, and the writing style, and regardless of its length, I did manage to finish it in two sittings.

The characters will take you on a journey and will make you feel and realize the themes I mentioned earlier this book covers. They are so realistic and developed without any complexity. Every character has something to show a reader how humane they are. This simple manner of developing strong characters did astonish me. Even more, often times a reader will find that these characters drive the plot forward. The narrative voice is good, and the dialogue formation is flawless.

The writing style smooth and simple and understandable. The author does try to let lose her characters at some point in time in the book, and it seems these characters have their own destiny and are controlled by it. I like the way she writes in a flow that seems satisfying for a reader like me to enjoy. I recommend this book to any reader who wants to enjoy a well-written book.

4 out of 5!