God's Truth Not Smooth Words

Angels Cushion Life’s Blows ~ a testimony


Angels Cushion Life’s Blows

©copyright 2003/06 Bonita M Quesinberry, R.C.

Psalms 91:11 speaks of angels having charge over Jesus throughout his short life fraught with danger: from the time of His birth to His death. Our lives are no different; thus, God’s children also have angels ministering to them, in addition to Holy Spirit—evidence throughout the Bible. The latter, of course, is not on the scene from day one of our lifetime: rather, Holy Ghost comes to each of us at a specific point in our lives—precisely when deemed appropriate.

So has my experience been regarding both ministering angels and Gabriel. There are so many incidents, during my 62 years, revealing both ministering angels and Holy Spirit: it likely would take a lengthy book to cite them all. I summarize only a few here and pray each might help others to identify when angels surely were with them.

Beginning on a day in 1944, Satan began his insidious attacks against me through other people: an abusive mother and, later, a sexually inappropriate stepfather—molestation. It would be 1971, however, when Baal attacked from within: at least on an emotional level. Illnesses and diseases always are internal. Nevertheless, in this same year, Lucifer’s attacks then switched back to external. In retrospect, I realize ministering angels, both seen and unseen, and later El’s Holy Spirit the Comforter were and remain with me.

Today, and not that I’m any different from His other sheep, I understand God had plans for me before ever I existed: one mission so great Beelzebub wasn’t going to take any chances I might succeed; thus, he started quite early with child abuse meant to beat me down to inaction, indifference and, his main goal, utter rage against God thus humanity at large. Lucifer utterly failed: for I’ve never come to those terrible negatives. Rather, El graced me with a forgiving heart toward all persecutors of whatsoever nature. Didn’t Jesus teach us to forgive those who sin against us—IF we hope to be forgiven our own sins? Well, I’ve certainly committed plenty of my own.

By six, I was petrified of Mother and didn’t learn how to avoid Stepfather until 12; yet mercifully, at that tender age of 6, I learned Jesus loves me and all the children of every color in the world. In the same year, I fell almost 30 feet: a deadly plunge had not Ishi’s angels cushioned the blow. Permanent head and internal injuries quickly were followed with what was intended a terminal bout with double pneumonia compromised by German measles, then along came chicken pox and, finally, mumps. It was a devastating year to my immune system, but Yahweh’s angels knew His plans: I lived—despite all odds and much to Destroyer’s chagrin.

Alas, Violent One is not one to back off, even in the face of defeat: which does reveal his stupidity. Still, what has he got to lose? Lucifer knows he will be destroyed in the end, anyway. So, why not give it his best shot? At 10, I suffered another head injury in the same right temporal lobe, leaving me blackout blind for 3 days. As a 16-year-old virgin, I was violently raped. At 18, I married; divorced 3 months later; married a second time; divorced 5 years later; and, married a third time, only to divorce 21 years later.

During all this, I buried two of my four children. Again, those unseen angels were present. With the death of Angeliqué, they cushioned me with strength to carry on; and at Contrina’s death, they blinded me to the stark reality for six weeks—shock, because she died at home in my arms—until strong enough to deal with it. Angels seen were lifelong friends glued to my side: Helen and Robby, Donna and Ken, Anita and Doyle. But as I said, Satan is not one to back off. For amidst these events, I nearly died from pancreatitis and, ultimately, was diagnosed with MS, Lupus, epilepsy—the list of thorns-in-my-side is long and not worth discussing. Those thorns keep me humble.

By 1971, life’s miseries and pain coupled with tremendous health issues were heaped high upon me, a pleasing sight to Beelzebub: my third daughter had died about six months before, exactly a year and a half after my second daughter passed away; my third husband was constantly leaving—despite declaring me the perfect wife and he’d never been happier in his life—my mother was telling family I faked illnesses, and on and on. This was the best time for Satan to attack from within, for by then I thoroughly was convinced: family and friends, husband, son and daughter—why even the whole world—would be far better off without me in it. Enduring all this had to mean there was something wrong with ME, not the world around me. Satan is such a liar.

Lucifer is so devious and had me plan exceedingly well. At 3pm, having just arrived home from the Bank, I took a fatal dose of 30 powerful prescription pain pills, filled just the day before; hid the empty bottle; told my 8yo daughter I had a migraine and to tell my husband, when he got home at 5, not to disturb me; shut the bedroom door and went to bed: secure in the knowledge no one would bother me. Why would anyone suspect I might commit suicide anyway? I’d never threatened to do it. So, it was a fail-proof plan. I’d simply go to sleep and never awaken to misery again. My brother found and got me to the hospital—seven hours later. Here again were those angels: my brother Perry seldom visited our home and only angels could have compelled him on this rare occasion. Angels seen and unseen.

Scientifically, it was too late for my body. Pumping the stomach was useless. By now there was nothing to purge. My doctor lost me three times on the emergency room table: a fact he angrily and justly shouted the next day as he stood at the end of my bed shaking his fist: “You EVER do that again and I’ll kill you myself.” Praise the Lord; His ministering angels had not allowed Dr. Truman to accept it too late for my physical life.

It also would be that next morning, as I came to, when Holy Spirit spoke to me on behalf of God for the first time in my life: “YOU HAVE THINGS YET TO DO.” I am so grateful to say I told Dr. Truman, when he concluded his tirade, “You don’t have to worry about me ever doing something like this again, because God got to me first.”

Holy Spirit said nothing more that morning. Know this: the Bible describes God’s voice as many waters and thunder and it is so; for those few words thundered and roared like Niagara Falls penetrating my hazy mind. Its deep bass sound definitely got my attention: there was no doubt who spoke and absolutely no doubt I’d made a terrible mistake, sin as it were, never to repeat. Yet, in the roar and thunder there is an incredible soothing quality usually not associated with such intense volume.

At the moment, I simply did not fully understand what things I was supposed to do: apart from accepting suicide as a terrible legacy to leave kids—my mother left it to my brother and I when she took her life at 58, after countless failed attempts throughout our childhood. Also, I was to continue raising my children and, more importantly, come to intimately know Eloi. It was time to increase in devotion and humility.

Even though Yeshua’s words were few, I had an innate sense of there being more: much more. Gloriously, this would not be the only time He spoke to me: albeit, each event would prove just as brief yet serve to steer me in the right direction as needed or to reassure me over the next 32 years of learning, researching, studying and, ultimately, being blessed with gifts of prophecy, interpretation thereof, teaching and counseling. And, I would come to understand why there always had been an innate talent for writing.

The second time Elohim spoke was to chastise and also to motivate the research and study mentioned above: “YOU ARE SITTING IN JUDGMENT!” My hair standing on end like a terrified cat and finally peeling myself off the Bank ceiling above my desk, I understood exactly to what He was referring. Just two weeks before while visiting a small non-denominational church, actually forgotten by the time God rendered His opinion, I witnessed the pastor’s wife speaking an “unknown tongue” and thought to myself: Humph, I could do that; how theatrical. Having studied Latin and Spanish, I detected her saying the same three words over and over, yet the pastor was interpreting with long non-repetitive sentences.

While our Lord said nothing else to me on this matter, I sensed He meant I was sitting in judgment because I had based my findings on nothing more than, at best, circumstantial evidence: certainly not hard scripture. So began the first of many quests into His Truths.

The third time Yahweh spoke was in a vision revealing I would come to recognize the antichrist for who and what it is. Apparently this knowledge is perilous to recipients, as indicated in my dream. Perilous, of course, can mean a variety of things, such as a threat to life or persecution by myriad means or both. Thus, this vision ended with God’s voice of many waters roaring, “FEAR NOT, FOR YOU ARE SAFE IN THE LORD.”

What tremendous reassurance and, naturally, it spurred me on to learn more of Jehovah’s truths, secrets and mysteries: eventually revealing antichrist’s corporeal identity: that of the great whore and her harlot daughters.

A fourth event also was during a dream, which portended Satan’s influence amidst even Christ’s true church and providing an urgent sense of timing regarding Christ’s return. Obviously, and since I ultimately was charged with writing books containing El’s facts, this was hazardous data as well; and, again, His great voice thundered, “FEAR NOT, FOR YOU ARE SAFE IN THE LORD.”

That was the last time I actually heard our Lord speak. Sometimes, I find myself missing His voice, wishing He would speak again. Yet, I understand there no longer is a need for Him to do this. On the other hand, Lucifer never will be finished with me while I inhabit this feeble flesh and as long as I persevere in spreading Adonai’s Truth.

In 1986, my long marriage ended in divorce followed by a move from Texas to Washington State: both the move and divorce a blessing in disguise. A few months before I moved, I was feeling terribly alone. As I lay in my bed one night with hot tears of misery coursing down my cheeks, I blubbered: Lord, I just wish you could pick me up and cradle me like a baby.

I don’t recall being held much in my life: only a foggy memory of a loving biological father separated from me when I was four. Contrarily, I’m very affectionate by nature, very much a toucher. Lo and behold, instantly it felt as though I were lifted and warmly cradled into the most powerful, loving arms I’d ever experienced. I was held so close as to hear the calming heartbeat of God.

His hold, soothing and reassuring, demanded nothing of me in any way. Most of all, it was an incredible feeling of utter safety and indescribable peace. I don’t recall how long Comforter held me. I do know I went to sleep in His arms. And, it was long enough to last me a lifetime, an event quite impossible to forget. You see, nothing is impossible for the One True God. We set the limits, not Him.

Some might wonder how a divorce after 21 years possibly could be considered a good thing. Easy. Well, not exactly easy, rather a bit painful: but, God’s Truths provided His opinion. As far as El is concerned, I never was married to any one of the three men, except in the winking eyes of mankind: thus, all four of my children were born unclean. In order to remove adultery from my life, or in the end lose my salvation, I could not be married even to the first man: much less a third.

It all began with the first husband’s elaborate deceit wherein at 18 I was caused to be guilty of adultery. Marrying again compounded this sin, now making it wholly mine. I more likely never was intended for marriage, especially considering El’s all-consuming mission for me. Yet, from marriage I learned much about how God’s Word should be applied to this union establishing one from two, making for a better counselor to those whom He recognizes as married. “ALL things work to good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose.”

I’ve experienced so much more: each trial and tribulation and lesson always leading to the same place—my awesome FATHER who NEVER FAILS me. Unfortunately, it was I who failed Him—time and time again, until I realized my way wasn’t at all working. Experience has taught me what this life really means; in itself, very little: nothing more than a God-given opportunity to find our way back to the only parent who truly loves us. That takes a LOT of education, not as man instructs but as Yeshua teaches.

I’ve come to understand death means nothing, at least the first one involving our defiled flesh; not even cause of demise being important: natural, violent, accidental, disease, or however people might classify an end to life. It doesn’t matter because not one person dies a split-second before or after God makes His decision, despite any human attempts at intervention: whether it be by modern medical practices or passing more and more laws. Most importantly, when God deems a life over, it actually is a gift of rest to its recipient: that is, except for the wicked and filthy. It also can be a call to obedience to the survivors.

There is no doubt Lucifer wanted me out of the way as quickly as possible: preferably at birth or shortly thereafter. What Evil One fails to accept is the fact God’s Truth Speakers, dispersed across our globe, are protected and preserved: despite seemingly impossible odds, regardless of illnesses and injuries, in spite of lying accusations and persecutions by others through whom Satan chooses to work, yet they profess to be Christians. Only when Truth Speakers’ missions are completed does Elohim grant them rest “from the terrors of these end days.” How we die simply does not matter one whit.

Again, Satan attempted to kill this flesh late June of 2005 with a deadly brain aneurysm. But, God had other plans, and even the doctors had to admit I am a walking, talking miracle. More recently and because of a stupid move on my part, Satan quickly attacked by breaking my back; his intent was to leave me lying in the woods where no one could hear me scream for help. Instead, I told God He would have to help me get up and get out of there; and, He did! And, I’m still walking and talking God’s Truth and will for as long as He deems it necessary for me to continue.

Satan is beating a dead horse, aspiring to heights he never can attain: thus, only fools choose to follow him. Granted, those false Christians, goats in sheep’s clothing, are not going to suffer as I and other sheep do; but, in the end they will perish and we will live eternally. I’d much rather suffer in this temporary here and now, than to lose permanent paradise. Hence, PRAISE THE LORD for His ever ministering angels and His incredible Holy Spirit the Comforter together with the people through whom He often works.


28 August 2006 - Posted by | Christ, Christianity, Dreams, Faith, God, Health, Holy Spirit, Jehovah, Jesus, Remnant, Spiritual, Testimonies, Truth

1 Comment »

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