27th Wedding Anniversary

Say what?

27 years already? How did that time fly so fast? Yet, looking at my children, all taller than me, I realize that my squeeky joints are there for a reason- time has passed- and even if I’ve never gave it permission to do so, time does not answer to me, I answer to it.

Chet and I, had so many adventures already and we plan on more if God allows us the time to do so. Was it easy? Some of you may ask and I answer. At times, not really. Was it worth it? Absolutely:) A marriage goes through seasons too; some are harder, some are easier but every season presents unbelievably beautiful moments if you look for them. Advice? Patience. Lots of it. Forgiveness. Lots of that too. Communication. As clear as possible. And so much more… that last one wasn’t helpful was it:)

But I think often while secretly looking at Chet; he’s just a boy wanting to be good, wanting to be loved and I’m just a girl wanting exactly the same things. We’re broken together, we’re whole together, we’re brave together, we’re scared together, we’re happy together, we’re sad together etc. Together is the secret. And for us God is part of this together journey, without him there never would’ve been a Carmen and Chet, without him we may have fallen and we may have died in spirit, love or body.

Chet, looking forward to our future adventures:) Europe is still part of those adventures, God willing.

May you celebrate your lives often with a smile both on your faces and in your hearts for all the years to come. Amen.

Why did I march in BLM?

As Chet and I began marching along side thousands of silent protesters yesterday, Friday June 12th 2020, here in Seattle, I asked myself one very important questions: Why am I marching?

Fake news is not to be trusted and there’s nothing better than being present and see first hand what’s really happening, historically, in America today. The march was mostly attended by white people, it was peaceful if you exclude some of the hateful signs and the rainy-cold weather was something I could handle. (Due to sound sensitivity the silence was why I could be there and the weather was another plus.) I felt healthy and strong enough to be there, but the other reasons I was there are explained in the sentences below.

There’s two sides to every coin.

Back in 1993, when I stepped foot for the first time on American soil as a legal alien with no rights to vote and an American husband by my side I saw for the second time in my life black people in real life (it was my first time for Asians, Mexicans, Indians and Samoans) and I marveled thinking: I can’t believe how imaginative God can be in his masterful work. I never, not for one second considered myself superior. In fact it may have been the opposite- the communistic propaganda learned over the years does not drop off you just because you stepped across another country’s border- for you see I was tolled by the system, mostly in school, that I was an inferior human being for two reasons: I was a woman and I was a christian. But I digress.

Since that day in 1993 I’ve had many black friends, mostly women, and I loved hanging out with them, seeing nothing but a human being on the other side of my conversation and friendship. I like to give my mother full credit for that. She raised us, the Damean kids, to believe that every human being is God’s child, created equally and equally important. (You see, back during communism times when I was only nine years old or so, my parents hid in our small apartment an African missionary. If caught by the communist party they would’ve faced jail or worse- be put to death. All their christian friends were too afraid to take the poor man in but not my mother. Not my mother! Who I believe to be the strongest human being I’ve even met. She not only took this wonderful man in, fed him and sheltered him, but along the years took many street children in, if only for a day, bathed them, fed them, and clothed them. Her heart always had room for those in need and she saw everyone as God’s children, some marginalized by society.) Thus I grew up, along my siblings, eating at the same table with those rejected by society be that an African man or the poor or the rejected children living on the street. My mother thought us that all people were God’s children and we should take care of them, not harm them. So you see one of the reason for marching it has to do with my upbringing and seeing other people (not color), suffer. I marched because I understand suffering.

Now, time passed since 1993 and about five years ago I was startled by a black man. (It was not his fault. I was suffering the neurological consequences Lyme disease and its complications brought in my life at the time. The poor man apologized deeply even thought he was not in the wrong.) That’s when I also realized for the first time that a part of me was also scared of him, part of that fear was associated with Lyme disease the other part was associated …with what exactly? What changed in me since 1993? I took time and pondered on this, sorting time and memories to find the answer. It came down to two culprits: media and a close American relative who on numerous occasions showed fear and spoke that fear out loud while I was around, warning me of hidden dangers I never thought about.

Loving and recognizing that all of humanity are God’s children created no fear in my heart, but suspicion and prejudice did. I was not aware of the American history on race until I came here and learned it. But the media fueled what once used to be and no longer needed to be repeated. Communism used media to control people’s minds and separate them. By separating us it’s easy to conquer us. So I marched because I refuse to allow the lying media separate us.

Since my future son-in-law is part black this hits even closer to home for us. He’s an extraordinary young man and I see thought his silent eyes some of the struggles he’s had to endure. I also hear loud and clear the grace and forgiveness his heart constantly bestows on those who wronged him. I see God in him, I see Jesus’s example in action. It’s very healing and so human. I marched in the thunderous silence for those wonderful human beings who lost their lives while innocent, or less perfect, because of expressed hatred.

While marching I thought of all those suffering from lyme disease or other horrible illness which leave them disabled and stuck in their bed or behind closed doors too fatigue or ill to march alongside me. I thought of you and your desire to come along if only the frail body would allow it. I like to think I represented you in that march.

Here comes the other side of the coin, the conflicting part within myself.

I do not believe in the politicized version of Black Life Matter movement, you know that part which expresses anger and hate by destroying other people’s hard earned livelihood.

I do not believe in police defunding. Why? They follow orders from higher up; it’s the politicians who give the orders of how the society should be run. If I believe in defunding anyone, and I do, I believe in defunding the crooked politicians with hidden agendas and their megaphone puppets we know as “media”. They are the ones that made me aware of racism, not God. (Here I don’t add the misguided people who speak in the name of God spreading hate meanwhile seriously disconnected from Jesus’s message. For Jesus did’t die on the cross for white, rich people that believe only a certain denomination is “the right one” he died for all, including those who hated him and didn’t believe in him.)

In conclusion, I’m not sure if I helped anyone by writing this blog, or if I’ve simply added to the pile of opinions out there irrelevant in some manner, but I do stand for one thing: All people (be them nice or not) were made in the image of God and all are his children and if every single one of us really believed that we would not have marches of any kind because we’d be too busy living peacefully among ourselves.

God help us see that.

Amen.

It’s been a while since we talked

D516A709-B2B0-4A0F-8052-D12A5AB364E9What a great summer this one was for us:) The apartment construction work is almost done. I had the most wonderful and unexpected visit for Easter from two of my brothers: Sergiu came from Germany and Flesh came from Romania. IMG_0666They took me completely by surprise:) We had a great time showing them Seattle, among other things and after they left and the weather warmed up, Chet and I spent many hours cycling on bike trails with my in-laws:) IMG_8327I also took lots of macro photos, a hobby of mine, and you can see one such photos at the very top (honey bee on a clover:)

I’m getting stronger every day. I have changed my Lyme tincture treatment to a new product and so far I think it helped me the most (or I’ve had lots of help from previous treatments and this one sort of sealed it). It’s a new product I found on Amazon called Holistic Tincture 7, made in Germany. It’s a 13 Herb tincture (Japanese Knotwood herbage, Teasel root, Cats Claw flower, Coriander herbage, Garlic, Hawthorn leave, Sarsaparilla root, Devil’s Claw root, Boneset leave, Astragalus root, Olive Leaves, Panax Ginseng root, Ginkgo leave) specifically design for those suffering from Lyme. Currently unavailable on Amazon as of today, but you can go directly on their website at http://www.biotraxx.eu to order. Heads up their info is in german (Amazon has an English version), and you need to take 20 drops three times a day for 6 months. One bottle lasts about 2.5 weeks. IMG_0265.jpeg

It really helped me so I hope it does the same for you:) (The cost is around $28 per bottle plus shipping $7).

This year we’ve celebrated our 26th Wedding anniversary:)B26CB92F-1A70-4DC3-9F93-62BD8A5CC31E

I’m grateful and I’m looking forward to the wonderful things to come in this life:) So keep on fighting for those ones not yet on the other side because there’s hope:)

Here are a few more pictures I like sharing with you:)

Have a blessed day and talk to you soon:)

There is no discrimination, in suffering

At one point in our lives, we’ll experience pain in some form. When the pain is so unbearable that the only prayer coming out of our lips is “Help me, God!” don’t stress over the fact that it’s not lengthy or theologically rich. In those moments the very help we receive is God himself in the person of the Holy Spirit. This presence can be through a particular person, thought of hope or strength, a book someone was inspired to write just so you can find courage through reading it, etc.  Here’s one of my own experience during one of such unbearable painful moments in the past.

Quote from my future novel.

“Laying in bed was the new activity I reluctantly had to accept, chained down by the mystery of unbearable pain. This pain brought along a certain amount of fear at times. But then there was a level of pain I’ve achieved where nothing but silence reigned, no questions, no reasoning, no fear, only silence. It’s in this horizontal position with a face washed by tears that I saw my bed expend quickly suddenly holding millions upon millions of broken diseased infested (physically or emotionally) humans. Their faces also washed in tears, millions upon millions of tears. People of all ages, from every nation, both genders and from all sorts of belief backgrounds. Holy Ghost in the shape of motherly presents sat, tears in her eyes, next to me ever so gently wiping my brow. I found temporary relief every time she did that and I was very grateful. I was not mad, angry, demanding answers or asking questions, because I saw how much God cared for me and her presence by my side day and night was constant. I don’t feel alone. She didn’t have to say one word for I understood every emotion or thought she exchanged with me. In her eyes, I saw how she mourned every single one of us, not just me, and on the bed of suffering, there wasn’t discrimination. It was equally devastating for her to see our suffering. Her heart was wounded and her face was burdened by our collective suffering, an emotion she felt far deeper than we’ll ever understand. Silent, loyal and everpresent by the side of suffering and pain she sat and wiped our sorrows softly.

I had no strength to finish a fragmented prayer I began, but she did it for me by looking deeply into my soul through my eyes and uttering the most intense pleading prayer without as much as parting her lips. But I could hear it. I didn’t understand the strange language full of color and sounds no human being will ever understand or utter. But I knew this was Trinity’s language and I only heard it from the outside, but there was an inner depth I could not hear or see but somehow know it was there. The language was meant for them that much I understand, on behalf of us, their children, whom at one point or another chose to divide among themselves driven by fear and hate. Our choice. Not theirs. A set of chains called “human will” were wrapped around her hands. Every hateful act against one another added more tears and pain to the bed of suffering which began to groan with a fresh wave of pain affecting all of us and her. I looked into her eyes but she didn’t hate us for hurting her. She loved us. Because we were her children.”

I felt the need to add this fragment now before the book is being done (maybe in a couple of years), because some of us may need to read this today.

God Bless:)

Quincy

Tonight while watching the Netflix Original documentary, Quincy, I found out something interesting I never knew about Chet. While living with Grandpa Charlie in Skyway, Seattle, he met and formed a friendship with Quincy Jones’ mother Sarah Wells Jones.

During an intermission of the Bill Gothard Christian Conference called “Insitute in Basic Life Principles” in 1988 at the Seattle Center, most likely at the Key Arena, while reading his Bible outside on a bench a thin lady sat down next to him and soon a conversation began, mostly about the Bible and God, creating an instant bond between the two. Soon after, Chet began visiting her small apartment downtown where she watched a small boy and girl most days. He remembers the good humor they shared while spending time together despite the age difference and the odd homeless look she seemed to have about her. He also noticed that something was a little off with her at times.

In their conversations, the name of Quincy Jones and his brother Lloyd came up and that’s when Chet realized the connection and wondered why would the mother of Quincy Jones live in such a small run-down apartment, knowing absolutely nothing of the personal history between the two. Sarah Jones seemed to be more proud of Lloyd and his important job at the Komo TV station, mentioning him often in the conversation, while hardly mentioning Quincy.

The relationship lasted about six months while Chet moved on to other things in his life and even though their friendship was short-lived, throughout the years he still thinks about her fondly.

Well, I learn surprising new things every day:)

God Bless:)

Balance Prayer

This is a prayer for myself and anyone else who wants it:)

I thank you, God, for the ability to forgive and the gift of forgiveness. Until recently I couldn’t forgive no matter how I went about it, not sure why, but I presume it had to do with the hate taking all the space available in my heart leaving no room for anything else, including forgiveness or joy.

Thank you for breaking that hard calcified wax of hate towards others and myself and melting it away from my soal. Now I have room for forgiveness, love, and joy. Now I can forgive myself and others; sure it’s still an effort, sure it’s still my will and choice but I have the power to choose now versus being stuck within my sick soul with no way out except a continuous and exhaustingly constant squirming and no progress other than fatigue. I earnestly thank you now for giving me the parents I have, for bringing me to this part of the world, for my family, and for giving me the body I have. What tremendous spectacular things I’ve learned because of these privileges and what great privileges I have to help others.

Thank you for waking me up to my potential by revealing to me my fears, fears that captured me in a self-restraining smuggled dark suit all these years. By showing me these fears and their consequences, you opened up the eyes of my soul to the things I’ve missed and the opportunities not taken if choosing to remain in that snuggled dark suit called fear.

I will choose life, love, and joy. I will risk opening up and be vulnerable in order to gain these three qualities. I will re-learn and re-direct my focus, thoughts, and behaviors in order to experience the consequences of life, love, and joy. In my quest, I will fail sometimes but I will get up and continue because my focus has shifted. I finally see that I have the right to experience life, love, and joy, a right you gave me a long time ago but was taken away by other’s fears only to be recently recaptured.

It’s a re-learning process based on the truth that what others said or did in order to keep me down was based on their own insecurities and fears, not mine. Their walls, not mine. I thank you, Father God, for opening not only my eyes but my soul as well to accept this, for acceptance is the bridge between success and failure. In the past, I’ve accepted false versions of someone’s truths and it brought nothing but a vast desert in my soul, now I will accept your truth to choose life, love, and joy. After all, that’s the definition of balance. Not one without the other, not one over the other. Balance. Truth. This time your truth and let’s see what that brings along and where will it end.

Amen.

 

 

Prayers for the Pelvic Area

The pelvic area stores lots of emotions, here’s where we experience sexual intimacy, new life, here’s where elimination of no longer needed elements in the body happens, the process of filtration and hormonal activity.

Father God, I ask for complete pelvic healing in my body and everyone else suffering from pelvic related illnesses, diseases, and emotional traumatic trapped memories. I pray full relief in the hearts of raped or sexually molested people, hormonal imbalance issues, inflammation, ovarian issues, bowel problems, genital damages, colon and kidney issues, urinary bladder issue, uterus health let us learn how to filter out of our souls and bodies damaging pain, let our body re-adjust to the proper health as we let go of what once was, but no longer is. Let us see the past hurts no longer delegating our present functionality. For those who lost certain body parts (ovaries, uterus, genitals, colon, rectum, kidneys) we pray that any grieving they’re going through over the missing parts is heard by you and that healing takes over and a new outlook is built.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

God Bless:)

Prayer for Lower Back Pain

The lower back is the gate between the lower part of the body and the upper part, it’s where stability lies. Do you feel instability in your life? Do you have a hard time grounding your feet in your situation? Do you feel the troubles bend your shoulders heavily adding pain to the lower back?

Father God, may the lower back pain in us be restored to the original design, may we look up to you and see how in fact you wipe the pain off our brows and with a smile larger than life are asking us to give you our burdens so we could regain our balance between the lower part of us and the higher part which is you. The imbalance we may have felt at one point, be fixed. All pain, inflammation, bone and the synovial fluid between the spinal vertebrae issue be restored fully. God paint back the strength of a complete person so we can stand tall and unashamed before man and you, God, as well. Whatever shame have bent us midway be undone, and true healing of the soul may bring us back into the upright position. May the weight most men feel due to the responsibilities of their family be transformed into the joy of the privilege loved ones bring. The men in our lives are so very important and let them feel it daily. God, you’re the belt that keeps us upright and strengthens our shoulders in the weary times and for that, we’re so very grateful, so very grateful. Thank you for the balance our mid-section brings to our body, and our soul. Thank you for healing, today and every day all lower back pain, disease and uneasiness until we’ve done all the good in this world that we could and are ready to come home to you:)

Thank you for loving us:) And thank you for our healed lower backs:)

Tomorrow I’ll be praying for anyone with pelvic pain:)

God Bless:)

 

Divorce

Some days I feel just like a child who receives something amazing, does not fully understand it but in my excitement needs to run and share it with everyone. Today is one of those days:)

The only thing I remember is a brilliantly beautiful pair of eyes, a mix of blues and greens with touches of diamond sparkly splashes constantly moving in a slow rotating pattern, fully focused on my eyes. The sight was beyond beautiful. Slowly the eyes moved back revealing a stunning face on which feminine futures predominated, but just like the eyes, it was in a constant movement of transition from one look to another. I was looking at one person and a million simultaneously. It was absolutely stunning. The voice that came from another source, somewhere within myself, made me ponder and change my opinion of the being I saw.

“Its name is Divorce,” for she was neither female or male, yet both simultaneously and more than that, a spirit of unknown gender.

‘It changes constantly, never still, never the same.”

Then I woke up, feeling disappointed to learn that such a beautiful presence was in actuality such a destructive force. Divorce, for many, if not all, brings a fantasy realm of a better world than the one they have. Unhappiness starts when one stops looking at what they have and focuses elsewhere. You can divorce yourself from a human being, God, ideas, places. Divorce is the opposite of a constant spirit, the latter a characteristic found of God. What bothers me, is all the destructive and constantly moving ideas in our world  (they existed before our lifetime and will exist long after we die), that promote an inconsistent spirit and bring along the fantasy of a better life. It’s not as black and white this battle between evil and good (stop rolling your eyes, we see this in our movies, books, and real-life on a regular basis). The deception of the ages is factual; evil taking a deceitful form of good in order to destroy. You don’t believe me? Why then do we have murder, deceit, lust, racism, famine, abuse to name a few among us? What does the color of one’s skin have to do with their actual value as a human being? Why are defenseless babies killed? Why are women abused? Why so much hate? Because it looks mesmerizing in the beginning and by the time we realize what we’ve done we are smack in the middle of it all.

Like I said, in the beginning, I wanted to share this dream with you. I’m sure some of you will appreciate the knowledge. It’s a subject that has put me in a meditative state for a few days now. I pray for myself that I will have the wisdom to see beyond deceit, that means I need to learn the truth, a journey I began a while back.

Enjoy the wonderful weather and God Bless:)

 

 

May 5th-Saturday-2018

Draw your own conclusion after reading this accurate story that took place this year, in Romania, on the outskirts open land of Timisoara city, where one of my brothers wasn’t only witnessing this event but participated in helping this young man.

Saturday, May 5th, 2018, a Bible study group of young couples were celebrating, picnic style, an outing, one of my brother and his family among them. The location, unlike their usual one, was new, a wilderness sort of place. Once everyone arrived, blankets were laid down on the grass filled soon with food. As they enjoyed each other’s company, my brother, and a few others noticed a young man in his early twenties, running at an incredibly fast speed, bare-foot. The speed with which this man ran back and forth was unnervingly fast for any human being. Eventually, the young man approached the group and asked them for something to eat. He received two bananas and one apple which he devoured quickly away from the group. He then returned again asking for more food, receiving a big plate filled with all sorts of B-B-qued meat and such which he ate, this time in the group’s company.

‘What is your name?’ Someone asked.

‘Daniel.’

‘How old are you, Daniel?’

’21’

‘Where do you leave?’

‘In my father’s barn, in the village nearby, but I spend most of my time outdoors in these hills. The villagers don’t want me around because I scare them and the kids.’ The young man was pleasant, polite and intelligent and all seemed well until he mentioned;

‘I have to leave now, the sickness is coming.’ Unsure of what exactly he was referring to the group protested, encouraging him to stay and visit with them longer, which he did, when suddenly he fell to the ground in a seizure spasm, foaming at the mouth, shaking violently and making odd sounds. The men quickly got up and formed a protective fence between Daniel and their families, encouraging the women and children to back off a few meters.

‘Let’s pray for him.’ My brother spoke up and a few men agreed. All but 6 to 8 men stayed close to Daniel. By now the rest of the group was at a safe distance away watching the small group of men surrounding Daniel reached their hands forward towards Daniel praying, my brother being one of them. He then heard Daniel making sounds no man could make, sounds closer to those of a cornered angry animal while his body bent in an unnatural upside-down frown. Daniel began eating grass, or covering his ears with his palms as the men continued to pray, climbing up a tall tree trunk nearby like a monkey, with the speed of an animal trained to climb trees making it all the way to the top. There were no branches available for the most part of his climb to help him and everyone had one unified wonder “how did he do that?” The men kept on praying, using Jesus’s name to free Daniel of whatever dark spirit who clearly possessed this young boy’s body, watching as he climbed down with the same speed, making sounds that would make anybody’s hair stand up straight on their back. Daniel then jumped straight up, again too high for any human abilities and landed on his back hard against a tree stump. There were far more such details I don’t seem to recollect at the moment from our phone conversation but eventually, Daniel relaxed and came to his senses, looking around as if looking for someone in particular.

“I don’t see the priestess dressed in black with her split tongue anymore.” He explained happily, followed by “My head no longer hurts, only my back a little.” His back pain was a result of him being dropped on the tree trunk earlier.

“I’m so happy you guys came here, I feel so happy with you guys,” Daniel spoke with the most sane and pleasant expression on his face, as everyone watched him still trying to grasp the details they all saw and heard, thanking God in the end for such a positive result.

‘It’s God who helped you Daniel, not us.” Someone spoke.

“Yes, thank you, God!” Soon Daniel relaid how at one point earlier in his life he got baptized but walked way from God, confessing, “What’s inside me…only through prayer and fasting can be eliminated.”

“You should join the local church and return to God.” My brother spoke looking into the same eyes of a young man who only a few minutes ago had the look of madness. Even though the picnic atmosphere was disrupted and now a wave of tension one feels when witnessing such encounters lingered in everyone, they all agreed that the unusual wilderness they all ended up choosing was intentionally picked by God himself to save this young man’s soul and life.

I’m sure some of you are encouraged by this story, while others may be frightened and full of all sorts of explanations, but this really happened not even two full weeks ago and I heard it from my brother’s own mouth in a recent phone conversation, just last week. I for one am encouraged, even though a bit uneasy by the details.

God Bless:)

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Daniel, after the prayer, free of the dark spirit and happy.