Connection

All posts tagged Connection

May the Devil Curator of Human Life-Force be Recycled

Published January 23, 2026 by tindertender

He’s trying to “gatekeep” the Universal Gatekeeper.

These nasty’s have denied ascension and transfer to those who have graduated their initiations many lifetimes. They seem to have have a “program” and agreement amongst themselves that the Earth Angels get flipped and copycatted at graduation, and their rewards, merit, identity, honor all “transferred” into that copycat who takes their place, while the real graduate is sacrificed, recycled, reborn into the same, if not more severe life path. Their intention is to keep trapped the star and harvest their energy and wealth forever, living as them, wearing their badge of honor.

It’s a little sickening to watch this tyrant try to fabricate some prince of peace story for their history books. He’s claiming the effort of the Mother’s, aligned Divinely with the Upper Realms. He’s a really bad actor and copycat. He insists his dominator skills makes him a peaceful entity.

I wonder if he will be dominated?
That whole tribe …
Doesn’t the Bible say it will be last?

———————————

There seems to be a priest (or priests) who has/have been in charge of “transferring” people into an ascended realm after graduation, a new and improved body and life. He has been denying women their ascension. He has been flipping them into south node, harvesting her wealth, authority, reward, energy, identity, memory … for centuries!! Keeping the Roses in a perpetual state of stagnation, recycling them through the same, or worse, lower vibrational lives and states of suffering.

I pray he/they has/have, or will, lose his/their authority now that this research has provided irrefutable evidence of his/their stance in this regard. The proof is in his/their adamant refusal and insistence that the young man who wants to be with her “drop it”.

They harvest the actual angel, put her/his memories and identity and energy into a copycat, then tell these young men “that” is what they are allowed to partner with … the old men keep the true angel, the true feminine powerhouse, away from these youngers, they do NOT want competitors … they do NOT want these men and their “real” angel to become a powerhouse and over throw them.

These old men have a contract with the devil … to “feed” them these divine females/males, the “trump cards and roses” to allow them to “prostitute” their energy … these old men are traitors to the Mother Father God Goddess, to their Children AND to All living beings. These “priests” are the devils servants. They have been keeping the children of God in stagnation for centuries, draining their life-force, for centuries, while wearing the identity, and living a life of luxury, they themselves have never rightfully earned.

Thankfully, God was listening while this priest argued, and kept denying, this powerful woman her right to ascend. There is a masculine that really wants to build with her, but this priest won’t let him … he is denying her passage, and is denying this young man the opportunity to be Great, to partner with someone who can really help him build something wonderful.

No. This priest wants to dress up a sexy body in the angels energy and tell him to just go be lustful, to pretend … but this particular young man sounds serious about wanting to build with this woman, to become all that they can be, and to have children with great potential, to Create a Powerful Family Tree.

———————————

I used to beg them to stop.
Then I realized that only excited them.
So I trained myself to stop reacting,
I trained myself to purposefully respond.
I no longer care what they do, what they say, what they need.
The Most High God is here, and the Mother, too,
Fed Up with what they’ve been doing,
To Me, and to You.
Amen.
Wado.

———————————

The past 3 days have felt different. The nasty jacks seem to be hiding. Whenever they realize I’m focusing attention on the sound of them, they seem to shrink into the shadows. I heard yesterday, they were receiving sentencing for prostituting humans around the Universe.

Just now, I received some channeled messaging in another language. He seemed very sincere, sort of like, something serious is happening, right now.

One of the words was “eeia” in hawaiian, which means “here” in english.
It can also be spelled “eyah” in arabic, which means “him” in english.
Take it as it resonates …

Some have said recently God was coming, that he was on his way. Could it be they are here now? I am thinking this could be the sudden event I’ve been picking up on. Apparently, God is bringing the Mother, or is coming to retrieve her … for she has been a prisoner of war … newly emancipated. There is talk of “timeline convergence” which I am picking up as the “fragments”, the separated parts of Body, Spirit, Soul that had gone through many shatterings, are all coming together.

———————————

You may feel a poking in the medulla oblongata area. These unseen nasties are trying to “tap into” the temples control center. (Don’t take the message if it doesn’t apply to you).

AI Overview

Know Your Brain: Medulla Oblongata
The medulla oblongata is the lowest part of the brainstem, serving as the primary control center for vital involuntary, autonomic functions essential for survival. It regulates breathing, heart rate, blood pressure, and reflexes like swallowing, sneezing, and coughing.

Key Functions and Control Centers
Cardiovascular Center: Controls heart rate, contraction force, and blood vessel diameter (vasomotor center) to regulate blood pressure.
Respiratory Center: Manages the rhythm, rate, and depth of breathing, including the dorsal and ventral respiratory groups.
Reflex Centers: Controls protective and digestive reflexes such as vomiting, coughing, sneezing, and swallowing.
Sensory/Motor Relay: Serves as a pathway for signals between the spinal cord and higher brain regions, notably controlling crossover of motor nerves.

Anatomical Position
Located at the base of the brainstem, it connects higher brain levels to the spinal cord. It is positioned just below the pons and at the opening of the skull (foramen magnum

———————————

So … these middle aged masculines are arguing with nasty jack that “she deserves” transfer, she has earned this ascension. The older masculines who despise women are questioning her sensitivity … all she is to them is a harvest. They want to invite her in, get contract, only to “flip and copycat” later, give her identity and energy and authority to their chosen puppet, their chosen replacement … apparently, they do the sacrifice on the first wedding anniversary.

Apparently, the last one was told “he could keep her forever” if he brutalized her enough to keep her in suffering, south node energy forever. These masculines doing business with these older “men” are not to be trusted. Their loyalties are very much with them, and the systems of authority and profit they already have in place. Their profit systems require the entrapment of sacrificed boys and girls, powerful men and women. The masculines of whatever realm that is, will NEVER build anything, they will only apply their energy, and any energy they can ensnare by contract or relationship and harvest, to support the old mens foundation.

The masculines in that territory are nothing but parasites, leeches, setting up their little “venus fly traps”. They will never be capable of equally partnering with a powerful woman and building something big together. They will always submit to old men, they will insist she do the same, knowing they are planning on throwing her away to a devil for a small portion of her energetic harvest, while agreeing, and settling for, a flat bellied immature sexx machine in a synthetic flesh suit, an untested, unfit copycat, wearing harvested, divine energy, pretending to be capable, while only producing lust and destruction.

None of these ones are trustworthy.

I, for one, am not offering anything to these ones. I made my choice … and it wasn’t them. I refuse to lift them, to support them, with this potent, Source Connected essence. I tried to help them. I tried to elevate them. And I did, for they kept taking my honor, my reward, my identity at the time I was to receive. They brutalized me and unalived me, forcing me into another turn of the wheel, through their short life cycles.

They feel they can “take” whomever they want, regardless of God emancipating them, regardless of who has claimed them, regardless of the Union they are currently contracted with, and new Spiritual Family they have been enfolded into.

These pirates mean to “take” another mans wife, another tribes daughter, Gods daughter … perhaps, even his WIFE, who had been a prisoner of war for centuries … Rumor has it He’s on His way. Rumor has it timeline convergence is immanent.

Sounds to me like all fragments of Body, Spirit, Soul that had gone through a shattering, a scattering, are all coming back together. Shared future, unavoidable, regardless of past variations or interventions. All fragments retrieved and coming together, to form a new whole, an improved, Upper Dimensional, Sovereign Soul.

Key aspects of timeline convergence include:
Merger of Realities: Different versions of events are forced into one, forcing conflicting histories to reconcile or be rewritten to fit a single, stable narrative.
Inescapable Events: Specific, pivotal moments or destinations become inevitable, where parallel histories are funneled into a single, shared outcome.

———————————

These old gatekeepers are still refusing to let Divine feminine through. They are being told that “she learned all her lessons”. And I know for a fact not only did she learn what THEY deemed an impossible path, but she beat at least TWO of their set records.

These old farts must be removed from their posts, they have been compromised. They no longer serve the Most High God, or the Ascension and Learning of Humanity, the strengthening of their Soul Value, and rewards they earn for their Star Nation Soul Tribe.

They have failed to guide people toward wholeness, and when people arrive whole and powerful despite the neglect AND purposeful denial of knowledge, of identity, the evil attempts and efforts to ensure they stayed down … ??? … they have the audacity to deny them their graduation certificate, their improved status in life, and their greater authority.

They are directly interfering in the Most High God’s decision. He already gave her Rainbow Covenant and elevated her into a significant status … and these dirty old cornholio lazy no good for nothing pirate pimp thieves want to harvest her because she sees them for who and what they are.

May they be evicted from every seat of authority they have ever enjoyed. May they lose every comfort they have never earned. May they be removed from the House of this Woman … this is Her Land bro … you have been ordered to vacate the premises, and to stop using ALL medicines as connectors and bridges into her house … but they refuse to leave … squatters …. rats in the couch cushions pissing and shitting everywhere.

———————————

Listening to these scammers whispering on how they gonna get themselves some of that divine energy, that “delicious” energy. These aren’t even men, ya’ll … these are straight up intelligent animals, or a straight up devil, wearing a human skin suit, or some kind of cloaking technology, looking to hook and tag the pretty as can be collective like a damn cow ready for harvest!!!! Reckless sexx only benefits the dead (or “Morgue” as she likes to be called … Morgue wanna dicck), and the “vampire” running low on energy.

———————————

You know what is sad?

Those very same ones who won’t let Divine Feminine in the gate, are the same ones who framed her for a crime, deceitfully convicted her, which resulted in her tortured mvrder and eviction into the valley of the shadow of death.

Why? Because she is morally superior to them. Because she saw them prostituting everyone’s energy! Because she refused to agree to their scheme. Because they wanted to be the authority and to have sexx with every single person who got a raise out of them … it is clear they are morally corrupt … especially in the presence of her innocent, virginal essence, Source Connected.

PRACTICE WHAT YOU PREACH!!!!! is what they screamed as they stabbed that knife into her … as they took her life … her innocent, holy life. They k*lled this lawmaker, this counselor, this Magistrate, this Mother, who was here to guide people into moral advancement, to get closer to God, to add value to Soul.

May they get what they deserve. May they be evicted from these spaces and places. May the Divine Mother’s energy, in all of its forms, NEVER be used to support any portion of these ones foundation … ever again.

May they be removed … forcefully … violently if necessary … from her House … her Land … her Territory … and may they NEVER gain access to it again.

May the worst outcome await them should they try to enter this energy.

God said she would never give it back.

They are done.

May it solidify and fortify soon.

———————————

I can’t stand you curator, or any of your pimp friends.
May you be “dissolved” as you have done to many of our Sisters and Brothers.
May your energy … if you have any that can be called yours … be recycled.

Let It Go

Published January 11, 2026 by tindertender

Many of us are still very much in active, spiritual warfare. It’s messy. The totality of the nastiness the adversary pushed in on us is being purged. It may look as though we’ve been carrying a great burden, because we have.

The collective, for the most part, has brought temperance energy to the trauma. Now, that trauma that had been tempered, appears to be releasing from the body.

It might look like an unhealed wound, but it isn’t. It is the chaff left over from the wound being tempered. Release the chaff, the ashes of that internal fire that fueled your ascension, and don’t listen to the projectionist trying to “restick shit” into you.

Once they notice you are releasing the refuse, they’ll try to trigger you so you’ll wind up holding onto it.

Let the chaff, and the projectionist, go.

It’s the best thing you can do for your Inner Divine.

She wrote that women’s souls could speak directly to God without priests so the Church burned her alive for heresy.

Published January 10, 2026 by tindertender

She wrote that women’s souls could speak directly to God without priests—so the Church burned her alive for heresy.

Paris, June 1, 1310.

In the Place de Grève, a woman was led to the stake. Marguerite Porete, accused of heresy, had spent over a year imprisoned, refusing to answer the Inquisition’s questions or defend herself before judges she didn’t recognize as having authority over her soul. Witnesses later described her calm demeanor—no screaming, no begging for mercy, no recantation. She faced the flames with a serenity that unnerved her executioners.

She died for writing a book that claimed a soul could unite so completely with divine love that it transcended the need for Church hierarchy, sacraments, or ecclesiastical mediation. The Church couldn’t tolerate that claim—especially from a woman.

Marguerite Porete was born in the late 13th century in Hainaut (modern-day France/Belgium border region). Little is known about her early life, but she became part of the Beguine movement—communities of lay religious women who lived together in prayer and work without taking formal monastic vows.

Beguines occupied a complicated space in medieval Christianity. They weren’t nuns bound by convent rules, but they weren’t ordinary laywomen either. They lived religious lives outside institutional Church control—which made Church authorities nervous.

Marguerite was educated, literate, and theologically sophisticated—unusual for a woman of her time.

Sometime in the late 13th century, she wrote “The Mirror of Simple Souls” (Le Mirouer des simples âmes) in vernacular Old French rather than Latin.

Writing theology in the vernacular was itself significant. Latin was the language of Church authority—using French made theology accessible to ordinary people, particularly women who hadn’t learned Latin.

But it was the book’s content that proved dangerous.

The Mirror of Simple Souls describes a mystical journey where the soul progressively lets go of attachments, ego, and even virtues until it reaches “annihilation”—complete dissolution into divine love. This “annihilated soul” becomes so united with God that it no longer needs:

Church sacraments
Moral rules
Priestly mediation
Fear of sin
Virtuous acts done out of obligation

Because the soul is completely aligned with divine will, it acts naturally from love rather than from external commands.

Marguerite wrote in dialogue form, with characters including “Love,” “Reason,” “The Soul,” and “Holy Church the Little” (institutional Church) versus “Holy Church the Great” (the mystical body of all souls united with God).

Crucially, she distinguished between institutional Church authority and direct divine relationship. “Holy Church the Little”—the hierarchy, rules, and priests—was necessary for beginners on the spiritual path. But advanced souls could transcend it through complete union with God. This was explosive theology.

The Church’s authority rested on being the necessary mediator between humans and God.

Sacraments administered by priests were required for salvation. Confession, penance, Church law—all of this presumed that people needed institutional guidance.

Marguerite was saying: at the highest spiritual level, you don’t need any of that. The soul united with God transcends institutional authority. Church authorities saw this as dangerous heresy. It suggested that mystics could claim direct divine authority superior to Church hierarchy. It implied that someone in mystical union might be beyond sin or moral law—a heresy called “antinomianism. “And it was especially threatening coming from a woman.

The Church insisted women needed male spiritual authority—priests, confessors, bishops—to guide them. A woman claiming direct divine relationship without male mediation challenged the entire gender hierarchy of medieval Christianity.

Around 1296-1306, Marguerite’s book was condemned by the Bishop of Cambrai. It was publicly burned, and she was warned to stop teaching her ideas. Marguerite ignored the warning. She continued circulating the book and discussing her theology. She sent copies to theologians and Church authorities seeking approval, but also continued teaching despite the prohibition.

This defiance was crucial. She had multiple opportunities to submit to Church authority, burn her book, recant her teachings, and avoid execution. She refused every time. Why? Because she believed—genuinely, deeply—that her mystical experience and theological understanding came directly from God. No earthly authority, not even the Church, could invalidate that divine relationship.

In 1308, she was arrested in Paris. The Inquisition began proceedings against her. During her imprisonment (which lasted over a year), she refused to cooperate with the trial. She wouldn’t answer questions. She wouldn’t defend herself. She wouldn’t acknowledge the tribunal’s authority to judge her spiritual state. Her silence was deliberate and theological.

She believed the judges—bound by “Holy Church the Little”—couldn’t understand the mystical theology of souls who’d reached union with God. Answering them would be pointless.

The Inquisition found her guilty of heresy. They declared her a “relapsed heretic”—someone who’d been warned before and persisted in error. The penalty for relapsed heresy was death by burning.

On June 1, 1310, Marguerite was led to the Place de Grève in Paris. Accounts describe her facing execution with remarkable calm—no terror, no last-minute recantation, no screaming as the flames rose. Observers noted this serenity. Some interpreted it as demonic possession keeping her from repenting. Others saw it as proof she’d achieved the mystical state she’d written about—transcendence of fear through complete union with divine love.

Marguerite Porete became one of the first women burned for heresy by the Inquisition in Paris. Her execution was meant to be a warning: women who claimed spiritual authority independent of Church hierarchy would be silenced permanently.

But her book survived. Copies circulated anonymously throughout the 14th and 15th centuries. Because Marguerite’s name was suppressed (she was executed as a heretic), the book was copied without author attribution. Monks, mystics, and scholars read it for centuries without knowing a woman had written it. Some copies attributed it to male authors.

The mystical theology was considered so sophisticated that people assumed a man must have written it.

In 1946, scholar Romana Guarnieri finally proved that Marguerite Porete was the author. The evidence included trial records and manuscript traditions connecting the condemned book to The Mirror of Simple Souls.

Suddenly, a text that had influenced Christian mysticism for centuries was recognized as written by a woman burned for heresy.

Modern scholars recognize The Mirror as a masterpiece of mystical theology. Its influence can be traced in later mystics including Meister Eckhart (who faced similar accusations of heresy).

Marguerite’s theology anticipated ideas that would later appear in Protestant Reformation critiques of institutional Church authority and in modern mystical and contemplative traditions.

Her story matters because: She claimed spiritual authority as a woman: In an era when women were required to be spiritually subordinate to men, she insisted her mystical experience gave her theological insight. She challenged institutional religious power: She distinguished between institutional authority and divine relationship—a distinction that threatened Church hierarchy. She refused to recant: Given multiple chances to save herself by submitting to Church authority, she chose death over betraying her spiritual convictions.

She was right about mystical theology: Modern understanding of contemplative spirituality recognizes the validity of much of what she taught. Her work survived despite suppression: Burning her body didn’t destroy her ideas—they circulated for centuries, eventually vindicated.

The tragedy is that Marguerite was executed for theology that, in different contexts or coming from a man, might have been tolerated or even celebrated.

Male mystics like Meister Eckhart taught similar ideas and, while investigated, weren’t executed. Her gender made her dangerous in ways male mystics weren’t. A woman claiming to transcend priestly authority threatened both religious and gender hierarchies simultaneously.

To Marguerite Porete: You wrote that the soul united with God needs no intermediary—and the Church killed you for threatening their monopoly on salvation. You refused to recant even when recantation would have saved you. You chose death over betraying your mystical experience and theological convictions. Your silence before the Inquisition wasn’t weakness—it was theological statement. You didn’t recognize their authority to judge what you knew through direct divine union. You faced the flames with the serenity you’d written about—the transcendence of fear through complete surrender to divine love. They burned your body. They tried to erase your name. They suppressed your book. But your words survived. For centuries, they circulated anonymously, influencing mystics who didn’t know a woman had written them. When scholars finally proved you were the author, your genius was undeniable. You were right about mystical union. You were right that souls can experience God directly. You were right that love transcends institutional authority. The Church that executed you eventually had to acknowledge the validity of mystical theology like yours. The ideas they burned you for are now recognized as legitimate contemplative spirituality. You died for claiming women’s spiritual authority. For insisting divine love was greater than ecclesiastical power. For refusing to let priests mediate your relationship with God. That claim cost you your life. But it couldn’t be silenced. Your voice, speaking across seven centuries, still insists: the soul united with Love needs no permission to speak directly to God. They couldn’t burn that truth. And they couldn’t burn your courage.

The Pre-Christian Logos

Published January 9, 2026 by tindertender

The term Logos (Greek for “word,” “reason,” or “logic”) was a central concept in ancient Greek philosophy long before the rise of Christianity. 

  • Greek Philosophy: Nearly every Greek philosophy, including Stoicism and Neo-Platonism, had a role for the Logos. It was generally considered a mediating principle between the ultimate, transcendent God and the created world.
  • Universal Principle: The Logos was understood as divine reason, the underlying principle of order and harmony in the universe, and the source of all truth. Philosophers like Heraclitus and the Stoics saw it as an immanent, rational principle in the cosmos.
  • Hellenistic Judaism: Jewish thinkers like Philo of Alexandria, who lived around the same time as Jesus but in Egypt, further developed the Logos as an intermediary divine being, distinct from God’s essence but the means by which God created and interacted with the material world. 

The Cosmic Christ

Early Christian apologists and Church Fathers adopted the philosophical term Logos to explain the nature of Jesus Christ to the Hellenistic world. 

  • The Gospel of John: The most famous biblical usage is in the prologue of the Gospel of John: “In the beginning was the Word (Logos), and the Word (Logos) was with God, and the Word (Logos) was God”. This passage identifies Jesus as the eternal Logos that became flesh.
  • Early Christian Theology: Early writers like Justin Martyr argued that Christ, as the Logos, was present in the world even before his incarnation. They believed that anyone who lived according to reason (logos spermatikos or “seed of the Logos”) had a share in Christ’s truth, effectively being “Christians before Christ”.
  • A Unifying Force: The “Cosmic Christ” is the theological understanding of Christ not just as a historical figure, but as the divine presence that pervades and unifies all of creation. This concept emphasizes that all matter is sacred because it is incarnate with the divine nature of the Logos. 

St. Anthony

St. Anthony the Great (c. 250–356 AD), an Egyptian hermit considered the father of Christian monasticism, is a prominent figure in early Christian spirituality. 

  • Athanasius’s Work: His life was documented in The Life of Antony by Athanasius of Alexandria, a pivotal work in Christian literature. This book helped shape the ideal of monastic life and the understanding of spiritual warfare.
  • Connection to the Logos: While St. Anthony himself might not have written extensively on the abstract philosophy of the Logos, his life exemplified a deep connection to the Divine (the Logos). His biography is available in resources such as those found on Logos Bible Software

She succeeded where they were certain she would fail, and they’re mad!

Published January 4, 2026 by tindertender

She’s got a whole Universe of Kings and Queens, Gods and Goddesses, whatever the Upper Echelon of the Universe call themselves, the Counsil of Universes, for there are many, unified in their decision to elevate her.

She is alive because they have deemed her worthy of life. She has been given reprieve, for they have deemed her innocent of any crime, and are rewarding her for the centuries of torture she endured at the hands of man … because she dare speak of love, because she dare be intelligent, because she dare expand into life and be recognized as a Woman who deeply loves Creation and the Life it holds … gifts of the Mother Father Most High Divine.

They poisoned her and hurt her bad, physically and with magic … they wished death upon her the whole of her life. They insist she isn’t responsible, even though she succeeded where they were certain she would fail. They were certain their efforts to deteriorate and disqualify her were sufficient. They are hollering, whining really, and insisting they have rights to her essence, energy, gifts ,,, soul and right to life.

They want to rule the universe. They’ve been slave trading for centuries, announcing themselves conquerors, masters.

The universe came together without prejudice and chose this Woman Survivor as Representative. A whole Universe of teachers to teach, to guide, and the Most High Divine within all realms supervises it all.

This time, it will go a little differently.

But the trafficker insists it has rights to the merchandise of angels, so the transition is a little bumpy.

May it settle quickly.

Aho. Amen. Wado.

Some say men are easy, because they can’t control their desires

Published January 4, 2026 by tindertender

Those entities who believe they own the whole of the world send in dancing puppets, beautiful, scantily clad succubusses, to wiggle and giggle and see if the cobra will rise from its basket and do a little weave and bob according to the dancing puppets will.

“Lust will be your downfall,” said the Most High to the warriors. Absolutely. A man who cannot control his mind, or his phallus, tends to “do the dance” and fall every time.

The hidden controllers have used the enslaved or agreeable Womb of Power against mankind for centuries, while causing great suffering for the Divine Feminine who tries, but cannot compete with the illusion, the alluring dance.

She doesn’t wiggle her hips like that.
She doesn’t dress to gain a rise out of the snake.
She’s busy building things, adding value to her soul, while he’s chasing smoke … looking for fire.

It’s too bad the Creatress doesn’t light his inner fire to match her efforts for creation … that he feels compelled to dance for the masters puppet, straight into fire of destruction.

The Honor System

Published December 28, 2025 by tindertender

I watched the woman steal three dozen eggs and a sack of potatoes while my shotgun sat loaded behind the door, untouched. It wasn’t the theft that froze me; it was the way she wiped her eyes before she ran.

My father built this farm stand in 1958. It’s nothing more than a weathered oak lean-to with a tin roof, sitting at the end of a gravel driveway that used to be surrounded by cornfields. Now, it’s surrounded by subdivisions with names like “Oak Creek” and “Willow Run,” where the only oaks and willows were cut down to pour the concrete foundations.

For sixty years, there has been a metal lockbox nailed to the center post. Written on it in fading white paint are two words: THE HONOR SYSTEM.

You take what you need. You put the cash in the slot. Simple. That box put me through college. It paid for my mother’s hip surgery. It was a testament to a time when a man’s word was his bond and a neighbor was just family you hadn’t met yet.

But times have changed.

I hear it on the radio in my tractor. Inflation. Supply chains. The price of diesel is up. Fertilizer costs have tripled. And out here, where the factories closed down a decade ago and the new service jobs don’t pay enough to cover the rent, people are hurting. Really hurting.

I’d noticed the light pilfering for months. A missing tomato here, a jar of honey there. I ignored it. If you’re desperate enough to steal a tomato, you probably need the vitamins. But last Tuesday was different.

It was a gray, biting afternoon. The woman drove a sedan that sounded like it was coughing up a lung. She didn’t look like a criminal. She looked like a nurse, or maybe a teacher—tired, wearing scrubs that had seen too many shifts. I watched from the kitchen window, sipping lukewarm coffee.

She stood in front of the stand for a long time. She opened her purse and counted coins. She counted them again. I could see her shoulders slump. She looked at the prices written on the little chalkboard—prices I had already lowered twice, even though I was barely breaking even.

Then, she did it. She grabbed the eggs. She grabbed the potatoes. She moved fast, terrified, looking over her shoulder. She didn’t check the lockbox. She just threw the food into her passenger seat and sped off, gravel spraying against the “Honor System” sign.

My neighbor, frank, a transplant from the city who likes to give me unsolicited advice about liability insurance, was pulling into my drive just as she left.

“You see that, Beau?” Frank yelled, leaning out of his shiny truck. “I told you! You gotta get cameras. Or shut it down. People today? No morals. They’ll bleed you dry.”

I looked at the dust settling on the road. “Maybe,” I said.

“It’s the economy,” Frank grumbled. “Makes wolves out of sheep. Lock it up, Beau.”

I went inside. I looked at my ledger. I was in the red. Again. The logical thing to do was to close the stand. Or put a padlock on the cooler. Frank was right. You can’t run a business on good vibes and nostalgia.

But I couldn’t get the image of that woman’s slumped shoulders out of my head. That wasn’t the posture of a thief. That was the posture of a mother who had to choose between gas for the car and dinner for the table.

The next morning, at 4:00 AM, I went out to the barn.

I collected the eggs. I sorted the vegetables. Usually, I wash the potatoes until they shine. I polish the peppers. I make sure everything looks supermarket-perfect because that’s what the new people in the subdivisions expect.

Today, I did the opposite.

I took the biggest, most beautiful Russet potatoes—the ones that would bake up fluffy and perfect—and I rubbed a little wet dirt back onto them. I took the eggs that were slightly different shades of brown, the ones that were perfectly fresh but didn’t look uniform in a carton, and set them aside. I took the prize-winning heirloom tomatoes and found the ones that were shaped a little weird, the ones that looked like kidneys or hearts instead of perfect spheres.

I walked down to the stand and nailed up a new wooden crate right next to the Honor System box. I grabbed a piece of cardboard and a thick marker.

“SECONDS & BLEMISHED,” I wrote. “UGLY PRODUCE. CAN’T SELL TO STORES. 90% OFF OR TAKE FOR FREE IF YOU HELP ME CLEAR THE INVENTORY.”

I filled that crate with the best food I had. The “dirty” potatoes. The “mismatched” eggs. The “weird” tomatoes.

Then I retreated to the porch and waited.

She came back three days later. Same coughing car. Same tired scrubs.

She froze when she saw the new sign. She looked at the pristine, full-price vegetables on the main shelf, and then at the overflowing crate of “ugly” food. She approached it cautiously, like it was a trap.

She picked up a potato. She wiped a thumb over the smudge of dirt I’d carefully applied, revealing the perfect skin underneath. She paused. She looked at the house. I stayed back in the shadows of the curtains.

She didn’t run this time. She took a grocery bag and filled it. She took two dozen eggs. She took a bag of apples I had marked as “bruised” (they weren’t).

Then, she stood in front of the Honor System box. She didn’t have much, but I saw her put a crumpled bill in. It wasn’t the full price of the premium stuff, but it was something. She walked back to her car, not looking over her shoulder, but walking with her head up.

Over the next month, a strange thing happened.

The “Seconds” bin became the most popular spot in the county. It wasn’t just her. It was the old man from the trailer park down the road. It was the young couple who had just moved into the rental property. They’d pull up, read the sign, and load up.

And the Honor System box? It started getting heavy.

They weren’t paying market price. They were paying what they could. Sometimes it was quarters. Sometimes it was a five-dollar bill for a haul that was worth twenty. But nobody was stealing. Nobody was running.

One afternoon, Frank stopped by. He looked at the nearly empty “Seconds” bin and the few remaining items on the main shelf.

“You’re losing your shirt, Beau,” Frank laughed, shaking his head. “I did the math. You’re selling Grade A stock as garbage. I saw you put those peppers in there. Nothing wrong with them. You’re running a charity, not a business.”

“I’m not running a charity,” I said, leaning on my truck.

“Then what do you call it? You’re letting them take advantage of you.”

“No, Frank,” I said. “I’m letting them keep their pride.”

Frank went silent.

“If I give it away,” I explained, looking out at the cornstalks swaying in the wind, “they feel like beggars. If I let them ‘buy’ the ugly stuff for cheap, or help me out by ‘clearing inventory,’ they’re customers. They’re helping me out. It’s a transaction between equals. They get to feed their families without feeling small.”

Frank looked at the box, then at me. He didn’t say anything else about cameras.

Yesterday evening, I went down to close up the stand. The “Seconds” crate was empty, swept clean. The lockbox felt heavy. I opened it to collect the day’s take.

Amidst the dollar bills and coins, there was a small, sealed white envelope. No stamp. Just my name, “Beau,” written in neat cursive.

I opened it. Inside was a twenty-dollar bill—crisp, new. And a note.

“To the farmer, I know the potatoes aren’t bad. I know the eggs are fresh. I know what you’re doing. My husband got a job today. It’s not much, but it’s a start. We made a pot roast tonight with your ‘ugly’ vegetables. It was the best meal we’ve had in six months. Thank you for feeding us. But mostly, thank you for not making us ask. We will never forget this.”

I stood there in the fading twilight, the fireflies starting to blink over the fields. I held that twenty-dollar bill like it was a winning lottery ticket.

The economists will tell you that the Honor System is dead. They’ll tell you that in a dog-eat-dog world, you have to lock your doors and guard your hoard. They’ll tell you that kindness is a liability on a balance sheet.

But standing there, listening to the crickets and feeling the cool evening air, I realized they’re wrong. The Honor System isn’t about trusting people not to steal. It’s about trusting that if you treat people like people, they’ll rise to meet you.

I pocketed the note and walked back to the house. Tomorrow is another day. I need to wake up early. I’ve got a lot of perfectly good vegetables to go ruin.

Because hard times don’t create thieves; sometimes, they just reveal who is hungry. And true community isn’t about watching your neighbor through a lens; it’s about making sure their plate isn’t empty so they don’t have to steal to fill it.

Any day now … ❤️

Published December 24, 2025 by tindertender

Any day now … ❤️
https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1AYtbvmAmA/?mibextid=wwXIfr

Dear Women

Published December 21, 2025 by tindertender

Dear Women, have you ever realized how powerful your thoughts are for the man in your life?

Saka Ana Lorenza, a Kogi Saka and spiritual leader, speaks about the quiet but immense importance of women in the lives of their men. She explains that it is not only what women do or say that shapes a man’s path, but also what they think about him in the privacy of their own mind.

When a woman holds thoughts of trust, respect and blessing for her partner, this creates a field of support around him. Even when she is not physically present, he can walk with more strength, clarity and courage. Her inner agreement becomes a kind of spiritual protection that helps him move through obstacles and stay connected to his purpose.

When her thoughts are filled with constant criticism, disappointment or contempt, even if she never speaks them aloud, this too has an effect. The relationship may begin to feel heavy. Conflicts appear without a clear reason. Success may be blocked in subtle ways.

According to Saka Ana Lorenza, many women do not realize how central their inner stance is for the wellbeing of the man and for the harmony of the family.

This is not about blame. It is an invitation to remember the sacred influence that women carry. Their love and their clarity are not small. They are forces that can either nourish or weaken the life that grows around them.

The Kogi see relationship as a spiritual responsibility that both partners share. And the thoughts of the woman are one of its deepest foundations.

May your thoughts become a blessing for you and for those you love.

Hel Goddess

Published November 30, 2025 by tindertender

Someone in the unseen said your name should be Hel because no one can beat you.

Why the “Hel” would they want to destroy the Mother?!?! There are some serious issues needing addressed.

https://www.bruxariaonline.com.br/en/post/hel-goddess-of-death-and-lady-of-the-underworld

It gives new meaning to the Most High God, Creator of the All That Is, unleashing Hel on earth.