𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄! Good afternoon, children of God. I come to return all the glory back to God of heaven and earth, our Lord Jesus Christ. I want to thank God for saving my life from premature death. It happened—it was—it happened last week. It all started exactly Sunday last week, after the service. I no understand myself again. It was like a joke. The thing get start—continued getting deteriorated, to the extent that I was hospitalized on Tuesday. Being hospitalized, I was not responding to treatment. But the servant of God kept praying with me, and kept checking on me. So, we kept going. It reached—I think, was it on Wednesday? I—I just started giving up on myself. All the—my husband beside me, the stress he's going through, and my family, I look at everything, I say, "Is it not better I should just—let me just go. Let me just go. Let me just go." So, after one of the injection, I slept off. I could not understand—know—I allow my husband to go out of the—by my side. So, I just closed my eye. After closing my eye, I found myself on—in a new city. There was nobody. I was just going—I just keep going, don't even know where I'm going to. So, inside the revelation, I now saw the man of God of this commission who asked me, "Where are you going?" I told him, "I don't even know where I'm going, but I just want to go. Let me rest." He told me to come back. He said I should come back. "Why do you want me to come back?" He said I should just come back. So, God used his face. He stretched his hand, and I hold his hand. Holding his hand, I turned back. Turning back, I open my eye and now saw myself, I was still on the hospital bed. I say, "Wow, was it a play or a joke? Does it mean I was really going?" That was how I woke up, and still continued. So, I—when he later called, I told him the revelation I had. He prayed with me, said, "Why did I want to give up?" Since I started working on myself again, that was how I started receiving—I started responding to treatment. Gradually, I was discharged. I was discharged on Friday. After my discharge, I reached home, I was just managing. I cannot eat, I cannot drink, but they forced me that I have to be taking something. I claimed today that, "Yes, I can take something," so that they should let me go, that I realized that the body is non-more of the medical. Let me go home and think and pray, and struggle to pray. So, reaching home, yesterday afternoon, I ate, but I started having another pain again. And there was this condition attached to me seeing the doctor that must be stable before the next procedure. I started having severe pain that I cannot even explain—I don't want to say it out. When I checked the time, it was already some minutes after eight. I say, "Ah, okay. Let me go online." Coming online now, I met they already started prayer. So, I joined the prayer. Joining the prayer, I was hitting my tummy and that of my waist. 'Cause I say, "This time around, I'm not in the hospital. Let's face it. I'm in the house. Let's face it squarely." I followed the prayer. When I started the prayer, sleeping was coming. The sleeping was so deep. Me that I hardly slept sometimes like that, the sleep, since I started being on drugs, sleeping was coming, I was struggling with the sleeping, I was praying. I say I must pray. Even when they do the—share the grace, I don't even know. When I—when I check again, I say, "Okay," I continue again. I was hitting it. I was telling the pain to go back to the sender. Since that yesterday night till now, I've not taken anything. God brought relief! Not even a single paracetamol I've not taken, and I cannot find the pain. I just want to say, "Thank you, Jesus, for taking over." Now that is the area I got to learn that, "Okay, any power that don't want to let me be, let's face it." And God took over. I just want to say, "Thank you, Jesus, for healing me." May His name alone be praised. I cover my testimony with the blood of Jesus, and this affliction and every other one, they will not come back again, in Jesus' name. Amen. God bless you, sir.

#morning #afternoon #evening who cares. may YAHWÉH ADONAI BLESS YOU ALL!!!

🌿 Mystical Gardens Tale 🌿 The Cooling Waters Jill had decided that summer had officially become personal. The heat had been unbearable for days. Not the pleasant kind of summer warmth that made people want to sit outside with a cold drink. This was the kind of heat that seemed to crawl beneath your skin and stay there. Jill woke up irritated. She stepped outside and immediately began sweating. “Wonderful,” she muttered. “It's going to be another one of those days.” Her car wouldn't start. “Of course it won't.” The air conditioner at work wasn't working properly. “Of course it isn't.” Someone had left a door open, letting hot air into the building. “Who does that?” Then someone accidentally bumped into her in the hallway. “Watch where you're going!” The woman stopped and stared at Jill. “I'm sorry.” Jill walked away without answering. She didn't notice the hurt look on the woman's face. By lunchtime, Jill was ready to scream. The restaurant was crowded. Someone's child was crying. A man at the next table was talking too loudly. The waitress brought Jill the wrong drink. “This isn't what I ordered.” “I apologize. I'll get you another one.” “And could you please get it right this time?” The waitress's smile disappeared. Jill didn't notice. Or perhaps she did, but she was too irritated to care. Everything seemed to bother her. A phone ringing. A dog barking. Someone chewing too loudly. A car driving too slowly. A person looking at her for what Jill was certain was too long. “What are you looking at?” she snapped. The man quickly looked away. By late afternoon, Jill was exhausted. And angry. Mostly angry. She couldn't even explain why anymore. All she knew was that everything was getting on her nerves. Then, on her way home, Jill saw something she hadn't seen before. A narrow path between two old trees. It hadn't been there yesterday. Jill stopped. She stared at it. Beyond the trees was a faint green glow. Normally, she would have walked away. But today she was hot, tired, frustrated, and completely out of patience and whatever was there had to be better than here, so she stepped onto the path. Within moments, the world changed. The heat disappeared. Jill stopped walking. A cool breeze brushed across her face. She closed her eyes. “Oh…” She hadn't realized how badly she needed that. The garden stretched out before her. Tall trees formed a canopy overhead. Little streams wound between moss-covered stones. Flowers opened beneath the shade, and somewhere nearby, water trickled over smooth rocks. There were no car horns. No ringing phones. No barking dogs. No crying children. No voices demanding anything from her. Just quiet. Beautiful, peaceful quiet. Jill sat beside the stream and dipped her hands into the cool water. For the first time all day, her shoulders relaxed. She took a deep breath. Then another. And suddenly, something uncomfortable happened... She began remembering. The woman in the hallway. “Watch where you're going!” The waitress. “Could you please get it right this time?” The man at the restaurant. “What are you looking at?” Her coworker. “Who does that?” One memory after another came rushing back. Jill lowered her head. “Oh no.” She hadn't simply been having a bad day. She had been handing that bad day to everyone around her. She had taken her frustration, her discomfort, and her exhaustion and thrown them at people who hadn't caused any of it. The garden remained silent. But Jill had the strange feeling that the giant tree at the center of the garden was watching her. “I was miserable,” she whispered. A leaf drifted down beside her. Jill picked it up. “I was hot. I was tired. Everything was going wrong.” She sighed. “But that doesn't mean I had to make everybody else miserable too.” The breeze moved gently through the branches. Jill smiled sadly. “You know what's worse?” She looked toward the path. “I don't even know if any of them deserved an apology from me.” She paused. “Of course they do.” For the first time that day, Jill laughed at herself. She had spent hours thinking everyone else was the problem. But the garden had given her something the heat never could. Perspective. Jill stood. “I can't undo what I said.” She looked toward the great tree. “But I can go back and do better.” The garden seemed to grow a little brighter. Jill stepped onto the path. The heat returned when she reached the other side. But something inside her had changed. The temperature hadn't changed. Her circumstances hadn't changed. Her car was still broken. The air conditioner still wasn't working. Tomorrow might be just as hot. But Jill wasn't going to let the heat decide who she was. The next morning, she found the woman from the hallway. “I'm sorry,” Jill said. The woman looked surprised. “For yesterday. You didn't deserve the way I spoke to you.” Then Jill found the waitress. She apologized there too. And when someone accidentally bumped into her later that afternoon, Jill felt irritation rising inside her. She opened her mouth. Then stopped. She took a breath. “It's okay,” she said. The person smiled. And Jill smiled back. That evening, Jill returned to the garden. She sat beneath the great tree with her feet beside the cool stream. “Thank you,” she whispered. She finally understood something the garden had been trying to teach her. Sometimes we are uncomfortable. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes the world seems to be working against us. And sometimes we have every reason to be frustrated. But our circumstances may explain why we're hurting without giving us permission to hurt someone else. The garden could cool Jill's skin. But only she could choose to cool the anger in her heart. And that choice was worth far more than a cool breeze. Seed from the Garden “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” — Proverbs 15:1 You may not be able to control the heat, the noise, the traffic, the broken air conditioner, or the things other people do. But you can choose what you do with the frustration those things create inside you. Before you hand your bad day to someone else, stop. Breathe. Cool down. And remember: They may not be the reason you're hurting. Don't make them pay for it. #christianwriter #christianfiction #christianfantasy #stacyfrantz #MysticalGardens

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GOOD AFTERNOON ... Well I wanted to share that I might be sharing my * THOUGHT messages here for the rest of the week later today or first thing tomorrow as I have a lot going on and my family will be - needing me. So ... sending LOVE to ONE & ALL !!

One morning in May 1860, Elizabeth Packard kissed her six children goodbye and expected to see them at dinner. She never came home. Her husband Theophilus — a minister, a man the community trusted — had a problem. His wife thought for herself. She questioned his theology openly, in public Bible study classes, without apology. She disagreed with him and said so out loud. So he signed a paper. Under Illinois law at the time, that single signature from a husband was enough to have a wife committed to a psychiatric asylum. No doctor. No hearing. No evidence of any kind beyond one man's word. By that afternoon, Elizabeth — forty-three years old, a mother of six, guilty of nothing except having opinions — was locked inside the Jacksonville Insane Asylum. What she found there changed everything. The asylum was full of women. And almost none of them were mentally ill. They were inconvenient. Independent. Unwilling. Women committed for managing their own money. For talking too much. For questioning their husbands' decisions. For praying more than their husbands found comfortable. The institution wasn't a hospital. It was a cage — and the law had handed husbands the key. Elizabeth did what brilliant, determined people do when stripped of everything else. She started taking notes. For three years, in the margins of scraps of paper, in notebooks hidden inside dress seams and beneath floorboards, she documented everything. Every woman's story. Every practice. Every injustice she witnessed. She did not break. She prepared. Then came the moment her husband had not planned for. A public jury trial — a sanity hearing Theophilus agreed to confidently, certain that no jury would believe a woman over a minister with a three-year commitment on record. He had catastrophically misjudged her. The courtroom was packed when Elizabeth rose to speak. She was not angry. She was not pleading. She was calm, precise, and ready. She explained her "insanity" simply: she believed in free will. Her husband believed in predestination. She had said so in a Bible study class — and kept saying so when challenged. That was it. That was the entirety of the case against her. Then she read from three years of hidden notes. She described case after case of women imprisoned for equally ordinary reasons. She spoke for hours with the composure of someone who had been preparing every single day of her imprisonment. "I do not ask for pity," she said. "Only for justice." The jury was gone for seven minutes. Seven minutes to undo three years. The verdict: completely sane. Unquestionably sane. The courtroom said out loud what the law had refused to acknowledge — that a woman's disagreement with her husband was not a symptom. It was her right. She walked out free. But she wasn't finished. Not even close. She came home to find Theophilus had taken her children and her possessions. He tried to have her recommitted. He told people she was dangerous. So she published her notebooks. She self-published her account of the asylum in 1868. She traveled on almost no money, state to state, speaking before legislatures, testifying before judges, writing to newspapers, standing before anyone who would listen. She wasn't fighting for herself anymore — she was fighting to dismantle the legal machinery that had been used against her and could be used against any woman at any time. It worked. Illinois passed commitment reform in 1867. Other states followed. New laws required medical examination before commitment, legal representation, the right to a jury trial, and actual evidence — not just a husband's word. In an era when women couldn't vote or own property, Elizabeth Packard changed what the law said was possible. The cost was real. She lost years with her children. She lived in poverty. Some of her children never fully came back to her. She accepted that. She kept writing anyway. She died in 1897 at eighty-one, having spent thirty-seven years making sure that what happened to her would never again be quite so easy to do to someone else. Her husband signed one paper to silence her. She spent the rest of her life writing thousands of pages in response. And the women who came after her — women who never knew her name — had legal protections that Elizabeth Packard built from hidden notebook pages, courtroom testimony, and decades of quiet, relentless, unglamorous work. Her name was Elizabeth Packard. 1816–1897. Imprisoned for disagreeing with her husband. She rewrote the law so no one else could be. If you believe she deserves to be remembered — share this. Because the best way to honor someone who refused to be silenced is to keep their voice alive. #WomenWhoChangedHistory #JusticeForAll

Good morning to everyone. Grace and Peace be with you. Well, my house is nearly finished. I got the upstairs looking very good, and now I can complete the downstairs. Yes, I did do the downstairs first; however, all good things in the worldly arena must come to an end. Everything that was just hidden upstairs is now in my dining room to be sorted, reboxed in totes, and hidden away in the freshly organized shed. Should only take a couple of hours this afternoon. Then get my front room done and maybe start my office…hahahahahaha…..that is a true danger zone. Last night me and the hubby had a date night. Tried a new place to eat. The décor was good, the service very friendly and efficient; however, the food was lacking in our opinion. I will not say where we went because it was our opinion. Plenty of people were there and coming in, so it is just a matter of perspective. As we were talking this morning about different things going on in our lives; the kids coming, getting the house ready, health, appointments, daily adventures… and such … I heard got speak directly to me several times in that conversation. “I feel that a lot from you.” “Yes, I understand exactly how you feel.” “I have said that to you many times.” And my personal favorite, “Really?” All these were things I hear in my spirit, which made me step back and realize that much of what I say…He does too … to me. A friend of mine used to tell me how much they got annoyed when I would use their words against them in frustrated thoughts they had about something or someone. They wondered why I would not just take their side … I would giggle and we would end up in a bashing banter fight and all would be well. The Spirit does the exact same thing … minus the banter bashing … He takes our words, our frustrations, our doubts and shows us that He is there with us as well. I am pretty positive that I am a primary cause of migraines in the Holy Spirit. (LOL) Especially now that I am in menopause and my mood switches like a kid with a light toggle. The journeys that He gives us are specific to our personalities and strengths. I have on many occasions questioned both those motives, but in the end of each particular journey I have seen the end result and am thankful for it. In the long run, not only was I able to help someone, but I was strengthened as well. Just as I know my house will be 98 percent done today, after church, that the obstacles that I am facing will be conquered, that the frustrations that I feel will strengthen my resolve, and that any doubts that I may have on any given subject matter will dissipate … it is a matter of trusting the process, and the process is not mine, but His. Today I will go to His house. I will sit with Him. I will hear His Word. I will be fed his nourishment. I will drink of His Spirit. And … I will leave His house with an indwelling of His peace. Will you join me? Be blessed. ***Through him and for his name’s sake, we will receive grace and apostleship to call people from among all the Gentiles to the obedience that comes from faith. --Romans 1:5

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Amazing Facts. Daily Devotionals Wasn’t it too harsh to stone someone for breaking the Sabbath? August 7th, 2026 On the surface, this story seems to tell that an otherwise innocent person happened to be on a nice Sabbath afternoon walk and picked up a few sticks and, for such a simple act, was stoned to death. But as we study the Scriptures carefully, we realize that God had already made it clear that a direct violation of the Sabbath was punishable by death. “Work shall be done for six days, but the seventh day shall be a holy day for you, a Sabbath of rest to the Lord. Whoever does any work on it shall be put to death” (Exodus 35:2). The context of this event is that it comes directly after God’s instructions relating to presumptuous sin. The dictionary defines presumption as “to undertake without leave or clear justification, to dare.” God said, “The person who does anything presumptuously … that one brings reproach on the Lord, … he shall be cut off from among the people. Because he has despised the word of the Lord, and has broken His commandment” (Numbers 15:30, 31). This man clearly knew God’s command and yet defiantly broke the law. He clearly and openly rebelled against God’s instruction, setting a dangerous example of disobedience that had to be immediately arrested. Under the theocracy of Israel, God ruled over the people directly. Knowing the hearts of all, the Lord instructed immediate punishment for flagrant acts of disobedience. Some believe that if Sabbathbreakers were stoned to death in the Old Testament, then the Sabbath must not be in force today since stoning for breaking it is not in force. But note that not only Sabbathbreakers were stoned, but adulterers (Leviticus 20:10) and blasphemers too (Leviticus 24:16). No one feels that these sins are any less wrong today simply because they aren’t punishable by death. Key Bible Texts And while the children of Israel were in the wilderness, they found a man that gathered sticks upon the sabbath day. (Numbers 15:32 KJV)