Raini Story
I want to tell my story here, because I have had to walk a very long and difficult path, in order to be able to find the sacred purpose God put inside of me which He wanted me to carry out, before He put me here. I believe that purpose is to warn the world of the perilous straits we have gotten ourselves in, and how God foresaw it all, and God wants us to escape a disastrous event – a disastrous event that could, or would probably, result in the destruction of the entire human race.
I believe that this was foreseen by Our Lady of Fatima in 1917 in Portugal in the apparitions there, and again during the apparitions at Our Lady of All Nations in the 1940’s and 1950’s in Amsterdam. I believe that I have been sent by God to try to alert my people here of the urgency of heeding those messages, which are basically that the world is in very dire danger of being taken over by communism, and if that happens, untold disasters will be unleashed on us all through the atheism of communism and through the ruthless lack of human rights that communistic regimes inflict on their people. And because communism is so atheistic in nature, and because they invariably outlaw all religions that worship the Real God, humanity will be forced into a deeply dark and bleak spiritual darkness. And because nature abhors a vacuum, since they will not be able to focus on the Real God, false gods will proliferate (i.e. bloodthirsty demons) to prey upon humanity. And if that happens, civilization will fall apart. We have already seen much regression of civilization in this regard. The solution is to turn back to the One True God again, to pray and pray and pray as much as we possibly can, to re-establish our connection with God again.
Now I would like to explain what happened to me in my life, to give you an idea of how hard it has been for me to get to the point where I could even explain this purpose of mine to you.
I was born in 1958 to a loving Catholic family; I was the first child born in that family. However, since two other siblings were born in quick succession after me, and all three of us were, thankfully, baptized when we were babies. However, my parents became super stressed out with their financial and caretaking burdens that were foisted upon them by having such so many children born so fast; my father decided to leave Catholicism which heavily discouraged birth control, and my mother became addicted to tranquilizers when I was young. As I grew up, I sort of became the “second Mom” of the family, the super responsible one, who attempted to fill the gaps for my Mom, such as always being the one to watch out for my younger siblings, to go to the market for my Mom when she needed groceries, to clean the house, to become her confidant, etc. This became necessary because my Mom’s tranquilizer addiction left her sick in bed a lot, and unable to drive anymore due to her development of Epilepsy from the tranquilizers. However, we had a fairly happy home, despite all that, and I dearly and fiercely loved both my Mom and my Dad. My Dad, unfortunately, became involved in some spiritual groups that brought unwanted psychic activity into our household, unbeknownst to me at the time. He would take my brother and sister and me to the public library often on the weekends, and read all he could on those kinds of things. (As you may be aware, public libraries are decidedly non-Christian in their selection of materials having to do with spirituality.) However, we kind of limped along that way, as the years elapsed, and things were relatively stable.
I was what was considered at the time a “gifted” youngster, with a high IQ, which I only know because for some strange reason when I was about 6 or 7 or 8, a School Psychologist came to my Elementary School to test me. I remember not liking him much, because he seemed to be almost unnaturally interested in me, in my capabilities. I remember, for some reason, feeling kind of like a guinea pig, or a puppy who was being asked to do tricks for him, and part of me resisted this attitude in him. It was kind of like an icky superior attitude or something. Anyway, my parents were told, afterwards, that I had an IQ of like 160 which was very high; however, I had a reluctance about me or about how I responded to the Psychologist that indicated that I probably should not be advanced in my grade level. (My grade level was already a half-year ahead of what it should have been, because my Mom had altered my birth certificate to get me into Kindergarten faster.) So then, in the 4th grade, I had a difficult interaction with my teacher, because she had given the class a bonus math question, and I was the only one in the class that was able to figure it out, although we had not yet been given the tools for figuring out that type of math problem, and the teacher teased me and said I must have cheated. When I told my parents that evening what she had said, my Mom went ballistic and wrote the teacher a scathing letter, expecting me to deliver said letter to the teacher the following day, even though I tried to tell my Mom that the teacher was only really kind of teasing me. So, the teacher, when she read my Mom’s letter, accosted me at lunchtime and took me behind the bungalows and yelled at me with terrible abandon that day. My parents came while she was berating me and took me back home, but I was pretty traumatized by the ordeal. And so, after that, I decided that I wanted to skip a grade in school all of a sudden; I don’t really know if it was to avoid having to have that teacher the following semester, or just some unknown connection. However, I did tell my parents that I was ready to jump through whatever strange kind of hoops I needed to jump, in order to skip another semester. So, I was given about five books to read and study over the Summer, to catch myself up, so that I could skip the next semester and start the 5th grade that Fall. The reason I am telling you all this, about the School Psychologist, about being in the gifted program at school, and about skipping the grades so that I was basically one full year ahead of where I should have been chronologically, is that now all these years later, I wonder if I could have actually been unknowingly in the “MK Ultra” program which the CIA ran in the late 1950’s to the mid-1960’s. I wonder if, perhaps, my parents knew much more about me than they ever let on, somehow.
I became very determined to get religion into my life, specifically Christianity. I dearly, dearly wanted my entire family to go to church, but my father always said no. It was always the most vehement of no’s. He claimed at the time that he wanted us kids to find our way to religion on our own after we were older and grown up, and that he did not want to unduly influence us. That was, however, obviously a lie, based upon what he did to us when were just a little bit older. Anyway, I began taking myself around the corner to the church closest by to us, which happened to be a Presbyterian church, every Sunday, for Sunday school, on my own, when I was about 8 or 9.
So then, my Dad, who was an entrepreneur and started his own company out of our garage, was able to get a small manufacturing plant up and running with quite a few employees. He named the company “Dia-Netics,” supposedly after my Mom, whose name was Diane. However, now looking back at how my Dad was always reading things about the occultic side of life, if he might have read the book by L. Ron Hubbard called “Dianetics,” which was basically the precursor to Scientology: a very dark, worrisome “religion” which has persisted to this day. It is, I believe, basically a cult.
So then, one of my male Cousins came to live with us, and he and my Mom, unfortunately, had an affair, which my Dad found out about; and then, my parents got divorced at the end of 1969. My Mom ended the affair shortly thereafter, I think, but grew terribly despondent, and I took on more of the responsibilities of the home, such as often doing the cooking. We moved in with my Grandma and Uncle, and my Grandma was kind of a backup for us in caring for us. However, then my Mom overdosed on her tranquilizers and ended up being sent to a mental hospital for two weeks. I, being a youngster who still believed in love, begged my Grandma to call my Dad, convinced that he would come and help my Mom in her time of need. My Grandma resisted my pleas for a long time; however, eventually she gave in and called my Dad. But instead of coming to help my Mom, he promptly came and swooped us up and took us away from her, claiming she was an unfit mother with the court. And I was so traumatized by it, because during the two years of being apart from my Mom, my Grandma died suddenly when she was only 58 years old, of a sudden heart attack which I know was really a broken heart out of having called my Dad and having him take us away instead of helping my Mom – something that was a direct result of my actions; since we were only able to see my Mom twice a month, and were not allowed to call her on the phone, I embarked on a personal mission to ride my bike to the nearest phone booth to call her every day after she got home from work, and let her know what was going on with all of us kids, and try to carry out her instructions for parenting us all as she would want us to be parented in her absence; and through it all, all the false hopes of court dates every couple months where my Mom would go with her attorney to the court to try to get us returned but our hopes were dashed; of my relationship with my Dad turning to raging anger followed by coldness; I was haunted by what was happening to me, which was that I felt like my Dad was using me and my brother and sister as weapons to bludgeon my Mom to punish her for having her affair. Of course, I could never say those words out loud, nor even articulate them at the time, but that is what really did seem to happen. I was severely traumatized by being used as a weapon against my own mother. So after two years of that, we finally were returned back to my Mom; however, my brother chose to remain behind with my Dad for reasons I never found out about.
So then, my Sister, Mother and I were at least able to be back together for a time. My Dad remarried a lady with her own two daughters and one son, about 9 months after we came back to my Mom, and the blending of our families was very rocky, due to the fact that my Sister and I were still so traumatized by the two years of being apart from my Mom, just a short while beforehand. My Dad feigned love for my Sister and I, and to his credit he always provided child support to my Mom, and attempted to spend time with us every couple of months. However, our relationship was severely strained. There was never any family therapy or any attempt by anyone to resolve any of the terrible feelings of anger and betrayal and sadness from my parents’ divorce and custody battle. We were just left to deal with it however we could deal with it, which wasn’t too well, though we tried. My new Stepmom told my Dad, about a year later, that she didn’t feel like I liked her, and he yelled at me severely for that while I was in the car with him, and told me sternly to be nicer to her, which I tried to do, to my own credit, though no one ever gave me any credit.
Anyway, then my Dad, on one of his visits to spend time with me, asked me if I’d like to go to a sort of New Age festival of a group he had gotten involved with, a spiritual group. I, as someone who was desperately trying to mend fences with him, said yes, and we went to it. It was an annual festival of New Age church, which was really a cult of a charismatic leader, though I did not know that at the time of course, being only 16 years of age. Anyway, as we had left our car to go to the festival, we were on a little narrow concrete pathway, and who should appear coming towards us, but this very charismatic cult leader, all alone, going the other way down the path? My Dad was so excited to introduce me to him, a man who was about 25 years older than me. He shook my hand and said some nice things about my eyes to me. And we listened to the man’s seminar at the end of the night, in which I distinctly remember him saying something about how committing suicide was a brave thing to do.
Then I continued to grow up, and my Dad arranged for all of us three kids, and the three kids in the Stepfamily, to get a year’s worth of “instruction” booklets delivered to us, so we could learn about this cult leader’s philosophies and spiritual direction for our lives. It was presented as something that my Dad wanted to help us with our lives somehow. He took me and some of the other kids who were interested to live seminars with the cult leader talking. I became increasingly involved with the teachings of the leader and increasingly wanting to be in his presence, because of his aura and his magnetism and whatever it was about him that was attractive to me. I believed that this was God, that he was emanating God, but in reality, I found out much too late, he was emanating a religious demon who did a very good imitation of God. However, it was not the real deal. It was fake. It as a demon.
As I became more enmeshed with that religious demon, my Mom’s health went downhill very fast. I never tied the two things together in my mind, but looking back later, I can see that it was probably my bringing that demonic energy into my Mom’s home that caused her to go downhill. She started exhibiting instability. She started getting tranquilized again, at night, but was able to still work during the day. It got worse. And then, she told me, when I was 18 and was trying to help her, that she would commit suicide one day, after all three of us (her kids) were grown up. This was shocking to me and deeply distressing, and I began failing in my classes at the University. One of my professors told me that that kind of stress is exactly what caused students to leave college. It seems extremely odd to me, looking back at it now, that my Mom, who had been so fiercely determined to get us back from the custody battle, would have turned around and wanted to end her life just a few years later. Now, I know, it was that religious demon from the cult, that I had brought into her home, unknowingly. I believe that it wanted to get rid of her, to get her out of my life, because she was the one person who still really believed in me. But, I tried everything I could think of to try to help her, including, unfortunately, trusting my Dad too much and bringing him in on the problem-solving process. He, and one of the therapists that was in that cult, suggested that we stage an intervention for my Mom, to try to get her to go get help for her suicidal intention. However, I made the arrangements for the intervention with my Dad being present there as the token older person. I should have known that would have made my Mom feel betrayed and extremely resistant to the intervention. I should have asked my Uncle and my Mom’s Aunt to be in that room with us, instead of my Dad. But I was just 20 years of age; I didn’t have any clue of what I was doing, really. So, it turned out, that my Mom was very angry at all of us for holding the intervention, and she said no to getting help, obviously. And I told her I would have to leave the house, because I couldn’t stand to see her preparing to leave us the way she was (she was leaving little pink notes all over different objects, stating who said object was to go to, etc.). So, I moved to a little apartment near the University. And then, my Mom shot herself in the head, four months later. My Sister was still in her last year of High School. In the meantime, my Brother had become diagnosed with Schizophrenia.
And so, then, traumatized by my Mom’s suicide at the end of 1978, I again followed my Dad and Stepmom further into involvement with the cult, by enrolling in a week-long intensive Insight training with only 40 participants in the room, just a couple months later. It was an extremely intense training. My intention was, obviously, to try to heal some of the trauma I had just undergone with regard to my Mom’s recent suicide. However, the cult leader arranged without my knowledge to have a few moments with me, one-on-one, while at the beginning training, and the idea was obviously to try to “help” me with my trauma, or as they say in that group, help me to “clear my karma” from it. Then later on that day, when I raised my hand to share something in the group about the suicide, the cult leader, who was one of the “trainers” in the front of the room, said something sharp to me, to shut me up from sharing, and I did shut up. In fact, I proceeded to retreat way deep inside myself during that training. I never resolved anything pertaining to the suicide. What I did do was get deeply, deeply enmeshed in that religious demon, not realizing that that was what I was doing. I remember seeing a ton of purple light in my mind’s eye, and the outline of a man’s body, and a big eye, almost that whole time during that training. I came out of it feeling as though I had had a huge spiritual awakening, and for years I was convinced that was what it was. But now, sadly, at age 67, I can see that is really the furthest from the truth, of what had actually happened to me. What was happening to me was that I was getting more and more enmeshed with that religious demon, really. Shortly afterwards, I had my first “initiation” with the group, where they connect you to the consciousness that they claim is God, deeper and deeper with each initiation, and they give you a “tone” to chant, which is a syllable or a series of syllables, to chant, in meditation, 2 hours per day, to get closer and closer to God (which was really getting closer and closer to the religious demon).
So, my grief period was well over 3 or 4 years, just to be able to function again – graduate from college, start working, etc. I was not able to hold a romantic relationship for quite a while after the suicide, because I was so grief-stricken and wounded. I kept getting more initiations through the years, and trying to do the special meditation that the cult practiced, which was silently chanting the series of syllables (tones as they would call them) every day. I managed to get by. However, my functioning was sort of marginal, even though I became a workaholic at my jobs. There was something not quite right, which I chalked up to something in my subconscious somewhere. Now I know, though, it was the involvement with this cult and their religious demon. I was crazy about jogging, and did as much as I could throughout my 20’s; however, a work injury I had sustained to my back in my first job after graduation from college continued to plague me, grow slowly worse, and eventually prevented me from jogging anymore when I was 28. I finally found love when I was about 25, with a man I met in my apartment complex. However, we never married; we just lived together for 17 years until he finally left me. He had serious commitment issues, to put it mildly. I wanted to raise a family (at least have one child); he was very afraid of it. So I used up all my fertile years that way, never having any children. Eventually, my back pain grew worse and migrated also down to my hip, and then also down the thigh, and eventually down to my foot. When I was 32, I had a low back surgery to try to improve the pain, but it failed and only made the pain worse, and I became disabled, having to lay down in bed most of the time, unable to sit or stand for long periods of time anymore. I insisted to my boyfriend that I wanted to try to have a baby before my chances were all through, at which point he left me instead of helping me to have a baby. That was in the year 2000.
Then, in December of 2006, I had my final “initiation” with the cult. I had to drive a long way home afterwards (about two or three hours). On the way home, I stopped for gas, and as I was pumping the gas into my car, I had a very strange sensation, like I was sort of “apart” from myself a little. After I got home, I started to have more and more of this sensation of being “apart,” or not really there anymore. By about March, the progression of it had become alarmingly weird and uncomfortable. By about June, it had become terribly distressing, because it had progressed even further. By about July, I felt like I had totally lost my Soul. It was the worst feeling in the world, like being plunged into Hell. It was the worst thing I have ever gone through: worse than the custody battle trauma, worse than my Mom’s suicide, worse than chronic pain so bad that I lost my job and my identity (from my work life). It was worse than any of those things, by far, especially in the beginning, that Summer. I had a therapist, but he didn’t know what to do for me. I enrolled in a daytime mental health outpatient program which was about an hour’s drive away from me. They didn’t know what to do for me really, either, but at least they sort of held my hand (figuratively speaking) during the days, so I would not have to be so alone with it at home, just freaking out about how awful it felt. My Dad urged me to write to the cult leader for some help, which I did. However, the cult leader, who had promised to be with us in any and all spiritual difficulties we might encounter, simply wrote back to me and said that no, I had not lost my Soul, though I felt like I had, and that was all I got from him. That was the extent of his “help.” And so, at the beginning of 2008, I stopped going to the daytime mental health outpatient program, and got a new therapist, who turned out to be the best therapist I ever had. He kept telling me that I would eventually get better, and giving me hope, giving me a light at the end of the tunnel. And he was right. However, I was understandably craving some connection with my True Self, my Soul, and so I tried doing the old meditation that the cult had taught me (silently chanting the tones); however, all that did was make me feel worse, not better! And so, I felt urgently that I had to find a way to connect with my Soul somehow. And I thought about the old “Rosary” prayers that I had heard of growing up. I decided to try to learn them and start to pray them. So I learned how to pray the Rosary a little at a time, starting in about late 2007. And I found that, as I prayed those Rosary prayers, I could feel a little “warmth” coming back into my body again; that warmth being the Holy Spirit, I believe. My Soul starting to come back to me, I believe. And so, I kept on praying the Rosary and going to see that wonderful therapist who kept giving me hope. And between the two, I was eventually able to recover what I thought was unrecoverable. I got most of my Soul back, after about 4 years of pure Hell. As the four years rolled on, I started to feel better. However, there was still a connection to the cult, albeit much milder than before, so I now know looking back at this that I still had Soul fragments that the cult had stolen from me, that I was going to need to retrieve over future years. But the bulk of my Soul, which I had lost totally during the 4 years (which I began to describe as my “depersonalization” because that was the closest thing I could find to it on the internet) was mostly back.
In 2008, as I was in the thick of the depersonalization, I heard a male voice in my ear or my head telling me, “You’re gonna get fat.” And although I kept copious food records as the years went on, showing that I shouldn’t have gained any weight at all, I ended up gaining about 90 to 100 pounds over the next 10-12 years, and was unable to prevent it from happening no matter what I did. So, now I think that the male voice I heard talking to me that day was some kind of a warlock who was cursing me or sending me some kind of dark magic or dark spell-work. And that kind of makes sense, that I would’ve been more easily susceptible to it during the years of the heavy depersonalization, because those were the years I was most plagued by demonic activity in my life – years in which demons seemed to be able to almost play in my mind at will, without any defensive ability on my part against them.
Also, during that time, my father passed away, in 2009, unfortunately, with our being more or less estranged at the time. And that is because at the very end of his life, he let a couple of things slip that were very hurtful to me, and that let me know that he had been holding onto secret unforgiveness toward me for almost 40 years, because of how I had taken my Mom’s part in his custody battle with her, and how I had tried to protect her. And so, even though I had devoted years and years toward accepting and forgiving his weaponization of me against my Mom during their custody battle, he had never forgiven me for taking her part in the whole affair. And at the end, he did something that was so hurtful to me, that I just blew up at him, unfortunately, and we never mended fences before he passed. And I’m sorry for that, but on the other hand, I know I did my best and way above and beyond healing the relationship between us, than he ever did for me. And so, I asked Monks to pray Gregorian prayers for 30 days for him, as I had done for my Mom, and I now just try to send him love and forgiveness wherever he is in the afterlife, and pray for his Soul.
As I continued praying the Rosary, I became more and more converted to Christianity; to faith in Jesus. I started to realize that my energy had been siphoned by the cult for decades, and wrote to them in 2010 telling them that I was leaving and to not send me anything ever again, and to stop their psychic connection with me, immediately. Of course, they did NOT discontinue their psychic connection with me, no way, no how. In fact, that is when the psychic attacks started against me, or when they really ramped up, I should say. (Hearing them call me names in my mind; some of them the most foul and disgusting things…)
As I continued praying the Rosary, and I got more experienced with it, I started to want to make it more meaningful to my prayer life, by actually trying to meditate on the mysteries of each of the decades of Hail Marys, as we are instructed to do when we learn how to pray the Rosary. So I started to read books about these “mysteries,” which are really just aspects of Jesus’ Holy Being and His Holy Journey, to help me when I prayed. But I found that most of the books had really long explanations that were hard to remember later at the actual time of praying; or else, I found that the repetition of that aspect to myself in my mind became too boring for me, week after week after week. So, I became interested in finding some kind of a companion book to use while praying, that would change week by week. I found one, written a long time ago by Fr. Patrick Peyton, that was given out to soldiers and sailors in WWII because it was so good. It was similar to what I wanted. However, it was not exactly what I wanted, and also, it was not long enough. So, I started writing my own around 2012 or so, and accumulating them. And eventually I had some 900 pages of meditations on mysteries. So I pared them down to around 400 or 500 pages, and created my own book which I self-published in 2021, called “Rosary Mystery Meditations: A Day-By-Day Prayer Companion,” a large book, with enough material to be a prayer companion for thirteen weeks’ worth of meditations, with five meditations per day (one for each of the five decades of the Hail Marys that day), that didn’t repeat, but were different slices of reflection on Jesus’ life and Being. It came out in October 2021. It was, unfortunately, a pretty colossal failure in terms of success in the world, but I found it, and still find it, incredibly helpful in praying my Rosary, because it helps me reinforce Jesus’ teachings a little bit at a time, over and over and over again.
My ex-cult leader, I found out, passed away in 2014. The psychic attacks, which I thought might stop after he died, actually kept going instead. And it was sometime after that (2014) when the hacking of my computer began, I think. My cursor would move on its own, and weird things would happen like windows would close or change shape without my doing anything to ask them to do so. Or, a message would appear in my Word document saying that someone had made changes since the last time I had been on. Weird stuff like that… I kept buying new computers to try to escape the problem, and for a while it would go away, but then it would always return. I asked a local computer guy to look at my computer, but he claimed he couldn’t find anything wrong. So, I bought a new computer again, and got a VPN for it in addition to regular anti-virus protection, but the problem still came back. This time, when I asked the same computer guy to come and take a look at it, he ghosted me and refused to even respond to me. Then, after my book was published in 2021 and I started putting excerpts of it on my X account in the Community pages section, the hacking seemed to grow even worse. By 2025, I was being seemingly cyberstalked by Elon Musk impersonators on X, who had targeted me for some reason. I made the mistake of interacting with one of them in the Summer of 2025 through the Direct Message feature of X, which resulted in them hacking my cell phone and creating a false X account for me which I had nothing to do with. And then in the Fall of 2025, some anonymous person somehow got into my original X account and changed my entire profile page, and when I asked X Support for assistance to help me fix it, they simply ignored all my requests. The whole latter part of 2025 was strange after that, in that I got locked out of my X account, and then started getting heavy witchcraft influence, seemingly, and sort of went into an altered state of consciousness, followed by having a suspicious car accident while driving alone, where I blacked out for no reason and totaled my car in December 2025.
2026, so far, has been creepy and creepier, with more of what seemed to be spiritual attacks on me, such as heavy witchcraft spell-work, designed to short-circuit my brain. And also, more hacking of my cell phone and computer. And also, a concerted attempt to lure me into abandoning my safety in order to meet someone online. And then, finally, in March, an actual bitcoin scam to get me to buy some shares of stock. I slowly was able to disconnect from the seeming net of illusion that was attempting to wrap itself around me, and break free. And in April 2026, in the process of doing that, I felt like the last Soul fragment that had been stolen from me by my cult was finally returned back to me, after 52 years of having my Soul sucked dry by them. And while that was incredibly freeing and wonderful, it was also incredibly sad and rage-inducing for me, to realize that I had had my whole life, basically, stolen from me by them. But because of all the acceptance and forgiveness work I had done since the 1990’s, in particular the acceptance and forgiveness work I had done for my Dad in the 2000’s, I found it a lot easier to reach for forgiveness to the cult for what they had done to me. And I am still working on that forgiveness process to this day.
And so, this is kind of a thumbnail story of my life up to this point (in 2026). I really don’t know what is going on; only just the thinnest veneer of what has been going on this whole time with me. If something happens to me, just know that I did not “Jeffrey Epstein” myself. My ex-cult would no doubt try to say that I did, because they seemed to have a narrative about me that suicide was my fate or something, because my Mom committed suicide and so therefore I would probably follow along in her footsteps. But be assured, I never will. Never. And neither should any of you who may be reading this. Suicide is what Satan wants for each one of us. He hates us. This is not some psychotic opinion coming out of me; this is straight out of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Satan hates each of us and wants us gone. And if we commit suicide, he has a chance at claiming our Souls. Also be assured, that I am not schizophrenic and never have been. Even though my brother is, and even though my ex-cult will no doubt claim or has claimed that I am as well, I never have been. I do not hear voices, except in the rarest of circumstances, as when I heard the male voice in 2008 cursing me, telling me I was going to become fat. I am targeted by someone or some ones, and I believe my ex-cult may be the ones who are targeting me, or that they may be part of the ones who are targeting me. I do not know if I may have been part of the CIA’s MK-Ultra program as a youngster or not, but I have my suspicions that I may have been.
My main reason for leaving this story of my life here, though, is to say that no matter what happens to me, I wanted someone to know that I have walked through hell and back, in order to let you all know that Our Lady of Fatima was the real deal, that her warnings are extremely valid, and that I see signs of the degeneration, disaster and war coming that Our Lady warned of in her later apparition at Our Lady of All Nations. And that we are at a dangerous place in the evolution of humanity, calling for us to listen and heed OLO Fatima’s direction, which was to turn back to God, to pray and pray and pray as much as possible, and pray the Rosary if at all possible, and to amend our lives to be pleasing to God as much as we can, because that is the only way we will allow the Holy Spirit to flow through us enough, that that same Spirit will be existing in the world enough to fight off the proliferation of demons that have come upon us. The real message of Fatima, in my opinion, is that we need that Holy Spirit to come back to us again, desperately, because that is what will fight back the evil spirits and enable not only Western Civilization, but Civilization in general, to survive. We are at the very brink and do not know it. We are at the point where Jesus warned us 2000 years ago when He told His disciples that when the End came, humanity would all be going around like everything was perfectly normal still, “marrying and giving in marriage…” but in actuality, it would be like the time of Noah, when things were definitely not normal, nor safe, but required drastic action for humanity to survive (i.e. getting into an “ark”). We can fight back the “Prince of Persia” evil spirit that is attempting to overtake us through this weaponized migration of Arabs into America, by warring against Iran and its evil plans to destroy us; we can dismantle Iran’s nuclear development facility, and war against them to stop this evil from advancing, and I’m very glad that we are. I’m very, very glad that we are. However, we have enemies coming at us from other directions as well. From Communists, from the New World Order. Maybe from elsewhere too. We need Heaven’s help, to survive. We need all hands on deck now. We need Heaven to intercede for us, while at the same time we need to be fighting like hell for our survival in the physical. It is a both/and; not an either/or.
So whatever happens to me, just know that you need to pray to God for the Holy Spirit to be alive and vital inside of you, as Jesus said, like the branches of His Vine, and let that Holy Spirit be in the world to a much greater degree again, as well as fighting the physical forces that are trying to take down America, and with it, Western Civilization. You need to fight in the natural, and fight in the supernatural right now. With everything you’ve got. I came back from Hell to tell you this. Wherever I end up, I promise to pray for you, and try to help you as much as I can from the other side. I love you all, my wonderful people of Good Will. Amen.
