Deeper Than STATE Part 3

 

Deeper Than State

Part 3: Blood Tonic

 

 

 

“The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be. 

 

Binding his foal unto the vine, and his ass’s colt unto the choice vine; he washed his garments in wine, and his clothes in the blood of grapes.” – Genesis 49:10-11.

 

“For it is the life of the all; flesh; the blood of it is for the life thereof: therefore I said unto the children of Israel, Ye shall eat the blood of no manner of flesh: for the life of all flesh is the blood thereof:  whosoever eateth it shall be cut off.” – Leviticus 17:14.

 

 

 

On the previous article titled “Religion of Craft” the period between the end of 2013 through the summer of 2015 was shared.

 

During this struggle between myself and the Mormons over my husband, I continued writing.  Some of those topics where I did the research on the church I posted on the new blog:  “American Messiah, American Zion”, “In the Company of Six”, “Denizen Cain”, “Church-Inc” and “The Devil Has a Short Time” in 2016, amongst others.

 

In late March or early April of 2015, Ed and I were power washing the outside of the house with a solution my son gave us instructions to make up.  It worked wonderfully and the front of our house looked new.  As we were hosing it off, I kept looking over at the twenty or so vultures in the tree tops across the road from house.

 

“Look at them”, I told my husband.  He looked over and made some comment about my mother’s pets.  As soon as I looked over at them they began taking off one by one in various directions.  One of the last ones flew directly toward us.  I looked up at it, pointed my finger at it and said out loud, softly but with purpose “I cover this house with the blood of Christ, go away”.

 

That thing looked like it hit a wall!  It made a sharp veer to the east and flew away. 

 

My mouth in a big “O”, I said “Did you see that?”

 

Ed replied, “Yeah, that was interesting!”

 

During that late spring and early summer, I was researching the depths of the Mormon Corporation.  They were even more wealthy than Scientology and rivaled the Vatican in their vast holdings, umbrella corporations and stock holdings.  It is even more today.

 

I posted everything I could find on them without apology.  This religious organization was worth BILLIONS of dollars; they were uber-represented in some of the most secretive intelligence agencies of the U.S. and they practically ran the NSA.  They were raised up during a time that the Masons in the U.S. went underground briefly: the wife of the man they were accused of killing ended up being one of Joseph Smith’s wives, probably most unwillingly as women didn’t have a voice back then.

 

How “Q”, and their claim to “have control of the NSA” fit into all that still remained to be discovered at that point.  But there were some parallels to the story of what happened to Michael Jackson and some of his people, the corporatized fan groups and the CIA. 

 

I was still putting all that together, and trudged along in my research and my writing, gathering scripture that foresaw all of this.  And the more I published, the more distant my husband became.

 

One night my husband threw at me that he was going to a “sealing” ceremony.  In my understanding, a “sealing ceremony” was something that witches did.  I didn’t ask him what that was.  I looked it up for myself.  Basically, it is where you are “sealed for eternity” to your family, and that I would be his wife into the next life.

 

Hmmm . . . well there is a Bible verse that deals directly with that in Matthew 22:30 concerning what happens in the resurrection, that “they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in Heaven”.  My husband looked disappointed that I didn’t believe him.  I asked him, “Wouldn’t I have to be there in order to be sealed to you in this ceremony?”  He didn’t know what to answer.

 

This was the choice that was being put before me.  I loved my husband, but I didn’t love him more than God.  Our wedding vows included vows to God FIRST in the marriage.  I prayed and asked God to remember his promise in my dream that “Eddie will be fine”.  The next day, he opened this to me in answer to my question concerning how to obey husband if what he does is against God:

 

“For there are some eunuchs, which were so born from their mother’s womb: and there are some eunuchs, which were made eunuchs of men: and there be eunuchs, which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven’s sake.  He that is able to receive it, let him receive it.” – Matthew 19:12.

 

We also dealt with the “baptism of the dead”, which the Mormon’s believe should be done because the Bible mentions it in 1 Corinthians 15:29.  Context apparently means nothing to their religion, I told my husband, because when they quote this, they don’t realize that Paul is revealing their own hypocrisy because they said that the dead don’t rise, but they baptize for the dead in their rituals.  Ed participated in this, and described it to me.  This was about the time the controversy was coming out online that alleged Holocaust victims were “baptized” into the Mormon church.

 

Most times when I would go to scripture to show him something that they told him was wrong, he would look at me with this perturbed look on his face and say “what are you talking about?”, or claim that he didn’t understand what I was talking about.  Even something he said the day before he would totally not remember it, and throw that “question” out there like a defense mechanism.  It was like his thinking was completely fractured.

 

But during the end of the summer, probably around August, my husband was a lot less combative, and so I let my guard down.  We had some funny moments, and he began asking me about what was going on with my blog.  I shared with him, and I even showed him some of my stats, where government agencies were on the blog downloading.  When he saw DoD and Department of State, he said “Oh, wow!”  And I’m sure he shared it.

 

There were less days that I delved into the Mormon church, but I was still connecting dots in my notes.  Some of them are blogs I never finished because I wanted to keep things “tight” and not follow every single branched out trail.

 

 

 

 

It’s All In His Name

 

It was just after two in the morning, when I was on this severely focused task of putting what God revealed to me into words on an article not yet posted.  The land-line rang and I picked it up quickly because everyone was asleep.  I somehow knew it was Warren, a friend of my mother’s who was former Navy Seal.

 

I never knew weather to take him seriously or not, because some of the stories my mother relayed to me were so horrific concerning the things he was asked to do, working for some off-the-grid organization UNDER the Navy Seals that he called “Silent Service”.  Some of what he was involved in they won’t even put in horror movies.  There were times that Mom told me Warren called her crying because he was afraid he was going to hell for some of the things he did.

 

One incident he described to her involved an operation in the far east somewhere during some skirmish, where they killed babies, stuffed the bodies with drugs, then had the mothers carried these dead babies over certain borders:  This is part of our “elite” fighting force, right?  This is what haunted this man.  How do you desensitize someone to that level?

 

His area of expertise was chemicals.  He knew how to whip up an untraceable poison and put it on anything from the rim of a glass, to the sprayer on a bottle of cologne.  His outfit would infiltrate the camps of rival local political groups in foreign countries, kill it’s leader and plant evidence to make it look like the other side did it.  This is how wars were started, and how the U.S. would manufacture reasons to go in and intervene (even though they secretly already had).

 

He had to fight to get veteran’s benefits because on record, he didn’t exist as having ever served.  He had “evidence” dispersed to different sources in case anything ever happened to him.  And he had handlers – some seen, some unseen; but he was afraid of having any internet at his house and didn’t keep a cell phone.  So it surprised me when my mother said one time that he told her, “Don’t be surprised if what your daughter is writing about is true.  She’s not right about everything, but she’s right about a LOT of it”.  Until this night, he had never spoken to me personally, about anything I was writing.

 

When I picked up the phone I said under my breath, “Warren, mom’s in bed!  It’s after two-a.m. here!”

 

He responded “That’s okay, I didn’t want to talk to her, I wanted to talk to you”

 

He sounded drunk.  I kind of rolled my eyes and wondered what verbal torture I was in for (he did have a southern accent that was accentuated when he was under the influence).  He started talking to me about Abraham . . . yes, THAT Abraham: how “Abraham was a sonofa-bitch” and Abraham “ruled with a rod of iron” and how Abraham was feared by his people etc. . .

 

I interjected at one point and reminded him that Abraham’s faith in God is what foreshadowed what God would offer the world in redemption.  The conversation kind of veered into that direction and that awkwardly, Warren asked a question.  He began with:

 

“Well, some Jewish friends had called me and were asking me what you wrote about the language.  You were writing about the name and they were asking me questions about it . . .” and I interrupted him.

 

“You have Jewish friends?” I asked him.  And he replied, “Ye-ah, they called me and wanted to know about the language . . .” and I interrupted again.  I should have shut up, I might have gotten more information, but what I said instead was:

 

“You have Jewish friends that called you to ask you about the language?”

 

He responded “Ye-ahh”

 

I said, “Warren, why would your Jewish friends call you to ask you about THEIR language?  Don’t they know it?”

 

There was a very abrupt and awkward verbal backpedaling, but none of the words he tried to say did he finish.  He made some excuse about having to get off the phone and we hung up.  THAT spooked me.

 

So it wasn’t just the Mormons, it was “Jewish friends” of a Navy Seal who was afraid to have internet at his own house because he had handlers keeping track of him.  Nice.

 

I told my mother about that conversation the very next day.  That is when she shared with me:

 

“He called me a couple of weeks ago, it might have been last month; but he told me to tell you to stop doing what you were doing”.

 

I didn’t know what to say, except “why?”

 

My mother responded, “He didn’t say why, but he sounded scared.”

 

I published the blog, and that day we got the planes low flying the house.  Mom got angry and called the base in Sumter to complain about the planes scaring her horses.  This is when we learned that the first three numbers of the main switchboard for Sumpter was “666”.  I had to laugh at that one.  I got no more phone calls from Warren.  He did however call my mother two days after we had that conversation.  He called to ask if we were okay.

 

This is when I really began to see the power behind that little verse in Romans 10:13:

 

“Whosoever shall call upon the Name of the Lord shall be saved”.  And that summer, I learned exactly what powerful thing had happened to me back in August of 2010, that started this journey on my dirt road.  Everything that was going on, not just with me, but in the world, was about, over, and against the one Word that fulfills the law  . . . His Name.

 

In August of that year, things had calmed down.  Ed was still attending the church, but was less promoting, and he was assisting Charlie and his mother with day-to-day things, but not as often or as consuming as when they first arrived from Pennsylvania.

 

 

 

Blood Tonic

 

One day Ed brought home a bottle of something.  It looked like one of those quart bottles that you use for diluting concentrated cleaner, but it was filled with a brownish red liquid.  He put it in the refrigerator.  When I asked him what it was, he told me that Mrs. Hess gave it to him because he had complained of itchy legs and was starting to get a rash.  The doctor had suggested he was developing circulation problems in his legs and wanted to put him on some medication for it.

 

“It looks gross” I told him, “why is it that color?”

 

He actually told me, “It’s a blood tonic”.

 

Now, I didn’t know how to process that.  I kind of smiled to keep from laughing, and I said “Okaaaaaay . . . is it a tonic for your blood, or is it MADE out of blood?”  He started laughing and explained to me that it was made from natural herbs and that it was supposed to benefit the health of the veins and open them up.

 

“Do you know what’s in it?” I asked.

 

“Just some herbs, I don’t really know”.  He responded.  So I just told him to be careful.  You all who have followed my blog know how I feel about pharmaceuticals and fake chemical symptom coverings; so I had no argument with going the natural route.  He said I could try it if I wanted to.  I declined.

 

The summer wore on, and August moved into September.  It was nice to get out of the 90 degree days but we still had them pop up every two or three days of the week.  Articles like “Seed of Iniquity” were published exposing the revelations of John Todd/Collins paralleling the prophecies of the Mormon church concerning “Michael” and their “Adam”.  They were military “Fly-by” worthy.

 

Another thing that came together that spooked me, was the “targeting”:  I don’t know what else to call it.

 

John Todd/Lance Collins, or any mixture of the two names was a man in early “conspiracy theory” circles who claimed he was of the “Council of 13” Bloodline families, the “Collins/Collyns”.  You can do a search on his name.

 

He claimed one of his aunts was one of the producers of “Bewitched” in his lectures.  When I read that (or heard it, I was listening to the audio tapes he made back in the late 1970’s), I remembered that one of my husband’s Ohio Cousins was the first “Tabitha” baby they brought home from the hospital.  Her name was Lisa Black.

 

Another connection, as I went through the audios, was that his audios were produced and distributed by churches.  Chick of “Chick Publications” (producers of a lot of those scary tracts church people, especially Baptists, would pass out to people) was one of them who helped produce/record.  

 

The lectures Todd gave was at various churches.  In one of the tapes I heard the name “Brother Berry”.  As I researched where that particular tape was made, it was at the very same church/Christian school I attended between 1975 – 1977.  We moved the year before that recording was made.

 

Pastor Tom Berry was the pastor of Baptist Bible Church and founder of “Elkton Christian School” up until the year after we left: 1978.  Then he was moved.  The name of the church and the school was changed.  The man that baptized both me and my sister in 1975 was the man who was one of three pastors left to defend John Todd.  All others were either bought off, threatened or both.  I even tried to contact him.  He was in his seventies but none of those email addresses on the ministry page of his were working.

 

Then October came.  The days we had the “vulture sentinels” were also narrowing down to a couple of times a week.

 

The missionaries still kept coming over, I don’t know why, because Ed was already a Mormon and mom and I were not interested, but they kept sending them; and for a while, except the “clan” in Mill City, things started to calm down. 

 

Warren was calling mom and he was afraid.  He claimed someone was poisoning his food.  He had called mom to tell her he was going to the hospital.  I was concerned for him and hoped what he said was not true.  We heard from him sporadically.  He had to be hospitalized and she did not hear from him over the course of about a month or two.

 

Warren called in September sometime.  Mom hadn’t heard from him for about two months.  Mom relayed to me that Warren told her he was feeling much better.  He had people with him.  Mom had asked “what people”.  And Warren replied, “good people, watching out for me.”

 

He had explained to mom that he had been in the hospital for a while but was back home and much better.  He also told her (quoted from her) “I’m going to be gone for a while.  I don’t know how long.  I’ll be back but it will be a while.”

 

This was the last time we would hear from Warren.  Mom sent him a Christmas card in early December.

 

2015 came in like a lion and seemingly went out like a lamb, or . . . a “wolf in sheep’s clothing”.

 

 

 

A Terrible Year

 

In January, mom received a business sized envelope.  The return address on it was Warren’s post office box number, in Linden, Tennessee.  Mom opened it and inside was the empty envelope in which she had sent his Christmas card.

 

On the envelop was written “Warren Davis passed away in November of 2015”: But the card was gone, and mom said the handwriting was his.  I searched and searched for some evidence of obituary, anything.  All I ever found was a notice that a property was in probate in the name of Warren Davis.  I still have the envelope to this day.

 

Mom passed away April 1, 2020.  I wonder, if he is still alive, if he knows that.

 

June 2016 I wrote “The Devil Has a Short Time”.  I had nicknamed it “The Summer of Six”.  Many things occurred both in the public eye and in our house.

 

Not much happened in the winter time that was noteworthy other than some interesting search origins on my blog.  We had a snow storm that winter in which we set up the back shed as a stall for the horses. 

 

In April, Ed came home early from work, with pains in his stomach.  He said they were sharp but burning pains.  He thought it was gas, or something he ate.  I suggested a stomach bug.  He went back to work the next day and the pain slowly subsided over a few days.

 

In May, I was walking through the bedroom to the living room and a small voice from within me said “Spirit of the letter”.  I stopped, because I had heard a similar phrase before . . . “spirit of the letter” I repeated to myself out loud.  I searched the phrase on Google and the search results revealed references to Bible verses concerning the “letter of the law” and “spirit of the law”.

 

This trajectory of scriptural study opened up some doors to the “language” and what was “behind it”: not just in the scriptures, but within US.  God led me to an article concerning the language written under the language of our DNA.  Not only did our DNA read as code for instruction one way, but it also read in the opposite direction another code and the scientists did not know what it was for.  The article states that one code was for instructions for the functions of the cell; and the other code they thought might have to do with RNA replication.

 

I returned to another article I took a screen shot of, which described DNA as an operating “biological internet” and a “tuning fork for the whole body” which not only could be affected by sound, light and vibration, but could also produce and communicate through the same. 

 

DNA Dance 1 & 2

 

According to that article, not only could DNA communicate with other cells in the body and other organs, it could also communicate with other bodies and other life forms.  This was verified before I even found it, in the dream I had about being caught up, and experiencing the new heaven and new earth.  It was also verified in scripture where God could talk to the prophets through either their bodies or the bodies of animals.

 

This meant that the very sound of His Name could affect our DNA.  It explained why Levites were the “singers and musicians of skill” in the temple and why God told Moses not to have them use any iron against stone in building the temple or the altar.  What else would effect the ‘stones’ and ‘timbers’ but vibration?  Sound!

 

But it wasn’t just the Sound of His Name either . . . It was an action a person performed “in His Name”; which was represented by His Name.  God calls, we respond, even if we do not know what we are responding to (until he shows us when we ask, in truth and love). 

 

These things I was writing about when things began to get ugly.

 

 

 

 

 

May

 

A number of things happened at the dawn of late spring into early summer.  I will try to condense without abridging detail.

 

May began an uptick of “incidents”.  I don’t know which one came first, but I remember sometime between all the running activity that my husband became deathly ill. 

 

May 20^th Ed came home early from work.  He had stomach pains again.  I could see it in his face.  He described them to me as something burning in his stomach or just below his ribs.  I suggested maybe gall bladder or gall stone.  He said his boss said he looked a little yellow and told him to go home.  I agreed and told him to go to the doctor.

 

The doctor sent him to get blood work.  He drove himself, but that was the last time he did for a while.  When the blood work came back, it revealed his bilirubin was way up.  His doctor told him to go to the hospital so they could do an ultra sound to see if he had a stone blocking something.  When they wanted to charge him full price because insurance wouldn’t cover it unless he was admitted, his doctor prepared an order for admission. 

 

Ed was admitted to the hospital in Camden, South Carolina on May 26, 2016.  Unfortunately this was over Memorial Day Weekend, and the gastroenterologist would not be in until the following Tuesday.  So Ed was admitted.  By the time he went through admission and was settled in a room his “yellowness” was noticeable.  Even the whites of his eyes were a yellow hue.

 

I was running back and forth between Camden and Kershaw, taking care of mom’s horses (she couldn’t clean the pasture all by herself with her heart condition), trying to make meals, and going back to Ed at the hospital.

 

Ed was in there for six days on a liquid diet.  He was released on June 1, 2016 (06/01/16) after they had done an ultra sound and tried to “laser” a rather large stone down to size.  I brought him home, but he still seemed to be in discomfort.

 

On June 6 (06/06/16), His doctor called him.  She informed him that they got the bloodwork from the hospital back and he was reading cancer antigens in the tens of thousands.  This was higher than many stage three and four cancer victims.  Something was wrong and she was referring him to a specialist who was the leading gastroenterologist in the country.  She called us back with the admission information . . . in Charleston (U of South Carolina Hospital).  She set the admission time for 11pm to give us time to get down there.  I informed mom I would have to spend the night.

 

Ed was admitted to the USC Hospital on 6/6/16, on the 6^th floor.  Yes, I took note, both mentally and literally. 

 

They got Ed settled in and I.V.’ed.  He was back on a liquid diet and he was not happy.  I told him, “You can do it.  I did it for eight days without even liquids and tube fed, so you got this!” 

 

He said “Yeah, you did, didn’t you?”  And I understood him, because we could not figure out what was wrong.  Neither one of us was keen on doctors poking and prodding you, only to do it again because they just don’t know.  What was scary was the cancer antigen count.  They acted like they had never seen this before and that it must be cancer.

 

For the next four days, I would leave Ed in the mornings while they ran tests, drive the almost three hours it took to get home, clean the pasture or at least my half of it, help mom with preparing dinner, or do it myself, shower, and make the drive back down to Charleston which was three hours one way.  I also spent some time on the computer researching his problem.

 

One of the major causes of gallstones can actually be caused by the very problem it creates: bilirubin.  As I took notes of what his symptoms were, three issues could have been causing it, as per his symptoms and what we knew so far:  Cancer, high cholesterol, and his bile containing too much bilirubin, which is what was going on.  His urine was brown, his stool was a chalky grey-white color and he was jaundiced.  One of the things that causes too much bilirubin in the bile was either biliary tract infections and blood disorders. 

 

My thoughts went to the “blood tonic” that he had been drinking (he was now on his second bottle and had finished the first one).  I kept forgetting to take the bottle to the hospital to have them check it out because I was so exhausted and burdened at this point, I could barely keep up with myself.

 

During my running back and forth, something rather odd was going on the first week of June . . . in Switzerland.  I had already been studying up on CERN, their “Large Hadron Collider” and it’s significance in it’s search for “The God Particle” and it’s rather non-promoted partnership with the Human Genome Project.  So when this was being shared I just happened to jump onto the “Live” event.

 

The “event” was “inauguration” of the “Goddard Tunnel”: the “longest” underground commuter railway in the world.  I covered this on “The Devil Has a Short Time”.  Why did they call it an “inauguration”?  It was a six (6) hour show.  The production was so odd and so evil, I felt like the world had just plunged into the bottomless pit (or it was opened).  This is now up in the new blog, if you would like to read the details.  Some of the video is no longer on Youtube and the links are no longer valid.  I will do my best to find the relevant substitutes.

 

On his third day there, he was scheduled for another type of stone removal.  They were going to attempt to use sound waves to break down the stone to passable pieces.  I waited in the waiting room at the surgical end of the hospital.

 

I was so tired I laid on one of the waiting sofas and fell asleep.  When I awoke maybe an hour later, there were other people in there.  I sat up and looked at the monitor.  He was still in surgery.

 

My eyes went to one of the tables that was in front of the couch I occupied.  It was a “Discover Magazine”, and I believe it was dated to 2013 but I’m not certain.  One of the articles was titled “Y Not?”  When I opened it, it was about the depletion of the Y chromosome. 

 

I was halfway through the article when someone came out to tell me that Ed was in the recovery room.  I asked if I could take the magazine with me, since it was old and I was very interested in the article.  They gave me permission to take it, to my gratitude.

 

Because my research on the blog at that time had to do with the “Y” chromosome’s connection to The Word and Christ, that article provided some valuable information.

 

We had to go back to the hospital for them to remove the “stents” they had put in to help Ed pass what was left of the gallstone.  They sent him home on June 10^th.  His counts were going down, but they wanted him to recover before they removed his gall bladder.  This was scheduled toward the end of June.

 

 

 

Ominous Clouds

 

Between those two procedures, I had a very ominous dream.  I shared it in on the 17th on “Anointing the Shield”.

 

I’m going to put up a separate page for that dream alone.  I have started another blog for just the dreams.  A blog reader from before had asked me to do it.

 

“Anointing the Shield” was another “epiphany” concerning scripture:  It identified in scripture who the “shield” was in my dream from when I was sixteen years old.

 

Ed was back in the hospital overnight for gall bladder removal, down in Charleston.  I drove him down there.  Waited until he was in-processed and drove home so I could take care of the horses. 

 

I picked him back up the next day but the air conditioning went out in my car.  I stopped on the way down to pick up some Freon but I didn’t know how to put it in.  It was a hot day, in the 90’s, and I had a screaming headache.  I made it to the hospital which is right on the marina practically.  I told him about the “cloud” dream.  He laughed when I told him the cloud gave me two middle fingers.

 

A topic of conversation was that not one LDS member went to the hospital to see him.  Not one.  When I asked Ed about this, he offered that they probably didn’t want to upset me by coming in.  I told him that was ridiculous.  I had issues with their religion but not some of the people he was close to.

 

He said “probably” – so he didn’t know either.  He told me that he did get a couple of phone calls.  That was nice, I thought.  They practically ran us into the poor house taking care of these people for almost two years, and they couldn’t even visit him?

 

I had been hard praying through this whole ordeal.  And God answered my prayers.  I kept thinking about the blood tonic but Ed had dumped all of it.  He said he was not sure if he should drink it until he was healed.  To my knowledge he never obtained another bottle.

 

This was apparently significant: a year almost to the day that Ed was released from Charleston hospital; this would be June of 2017, my mother found a post-it note with two compound words on it.  I wrote about that here and reposted it here.  It was titled “Bloodguiltiness”.  God not only revealed to me what was in that tonic, but he also revealed a stealthy partnership between two entities who play at being at odds with each other (Description of this is in Daniel 11:27 although may be different entities).

 

The woman who gave my husband that blood tonic, upon posting of that article, was sent with her husband to another “ward” and from what she posted on Facebook, she was not happy about it.  I had written upon at the end of that 2017 article:

 

“As for the woman who gave him the tonic, I cannot say whether or not it had anything do with my husband taking ill.  I can’t even say for sure that those two plants were even in the mixture.  It may all very well be perfectly innocent.  I have lots of questions for sure; yet some of them are already answered. . . .

 

The mystery of this yellow “note paper” with those two compound names of plants written in a hand foreign to this household, showed up a year after he drank his last dose of the tonic, leaves no question that I was to find that note.  Maybe God wanted me to know: not that I was to do anything about it . . . but that He was letting me know that He already had.”

 

 

I had also written this, which was the event of the closing of this “portion” of my trials and trying of the Lord:

 

“About a month after Ed was released from the Charleston, the family that was planted down here in Kershaw that they assigned to my husband all moved back up to New York. . . every single one occupying the three houses in town.  If I had doubts at all about the strangeness in which they all arrived here from Pennsylvania and just happened to find “Ed”, there were none when I heard they were “all” going back north at the same time, after his recovery.

 

Despite this or my feelings about it, I have one thing I know for sure:  That God answered the prayers of Ed’s family and his wife.  God had it all under control.”

 

The Dodges, and family, moved back up north to the same area from which they came.  We still had missionaries visit from time to time, but the frequency began to thin out.

 

The vultures were also thinning out.  They were out there less often, and there were less and less of them when they did come around.

 

Ed stayed in contact with the church and the Gagnon’s and apparently the Cathey’s too through email and phone text, sometimes on Facebook, but he had stopped attending church.  All he would tell me when I asked was “I don’t know, there is just something weird going on there”.

 

This wasn’t the end though. 

 

In the fall, Ed began seeing a podiatrist.  His foot was hurting him badly and he learned that he broke a bone in his foot at work operating the clutch on the forklift.

 

He also learned that he was going to have corrective surgery for his foot, because he had “flat feet”.  He was walking on the outer part of the foot, causing his shoes to wear down which exacerbated the problem.

 

This seemed to segue into another “occupation”: this was going to prove to be much more of a challenge in both self control, and FAITH.