Last minute prayers

     I wanted to protect Alexia from her evil big brother. He constantly raped her, and stabbed her. At the last minute, she might have prayed, "God, if you exist, I'm in pain. I didn't believe before, please save me. I love you. Please heal me and don't let me die. Please send me somewhere else so he doesn't stab me again. In Jesus name I pray, Amen." I think she was somewhere in-between 10 and 15. Last minute prayers counts. He sends those people to His House, to heal them, and to help them become true christians.
      Pain helps you believe. Sickness makes you believe you're going to die, and you suffer for a while, and then suddenly you're better, and you think, "Thank you, God, You healed me." I accidentally ate mushrooms, threw up, and was sick for three days. Suffering produces enlightenment - realizations, revelations...if it's not too much.
        That's why I used to cut myself. Somewhere deep in my soul, I believed it was - is - wise. It helps you stay good and helps you love yourself. It helps you feel something. God gives us hope in our moments of pain and confusion. We seek wisdom and love. Sometimes, I do it as an excuse to take care of myself, to feel alive, to transcend humanity. I'm not human. I'm an archangel. I'm not an addict; I'm an explorer. Meditate on pain. Sickness hurts. Cutting pain and workout soreness doesn't hurt anywhere near as much. It helps us, and reminds us that we're strong. For some people, cutting is self harm. They cut "fat" and "ugly" on their skin. I cut "I am strong" and "cherish" and a butterfly and a heart on my skin, as a reminder to be a good, loving person. For me, cutting is self-love. I cut (I mean, I used to) so I can remember to be myself, Rebecca, a cherub, an archangel, a faerie, an elf. A good elf. Some elves get angry because of their superhearing, and just want to look like they have pointy ears. When I hear someone else's house, I am overjoyed, not angry. I accept myself, the way Yahweh, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit made me. I used to cut myself to seek enlightenment. I don't need it anymore, but I just like the sensation.
    
      God chose to die for us. The pain He suffered didn't hurt Him that much, because He's God. It doesn't mean He's a masochist, and it doesn't mean He committed suicide. He came to Earth as a baby to live and die for us. He came to show us the Way to live. He came to guide us and He came to take the fall for our sin. He came to defeat death on the cross so no one has to die anymore. He came to Earth, not the other inhabitable planets, so those planets are still in the dark ages. I visited those planets with my dad, and accidentally teleported there a couple times. God always led me back home.

     If you're sick, pray. If you're sad, pray. If you're empty and numb, pray. If you're a cutter, and addicted to it, pray. There is always hope. Only do it one to three or maybe four times a weak, but if you're too addicted, stop for a while. Don't go to hospitals or therapy: that won't help. They'll just try to get into your head and stop YOU from being YOU. Talk to your friends, the few you can trust (christian friends). Pray and meditate. Keep a journal. Dream. Love. Hospitals are evil. God is a healer, and He can teach you about herbs that can help you. If you think you are bipolar, let the mania become joy, and let the depression become glorious sadness that teaches you lessons. If you think you're schizophrenic, it is demons, not a disease, and there is always hope. I'm autistic, medium functioning, and I see it as a gift from God. Pray those last minute prayers. Try to believe in God. He created you in your mother's womb. That's what suffering is for: to force you to believe, and to ask for guidance and healing.

That's all for now. Love,
Rebecca xoxoxo <3 :)