SEVENTH SEAL LIBRARY

God's Truth Not Smooth Words

Extra Oil 54: House of Holes Vision

 

News, Vision, Tammy, María, Prophecy, God, Christ, Church, Apostate, Pope, Protestant, John-Hagee, Jack-Van-Impe, Vatican, World Church, WC, WCC, SDA, Truth

Prophecy’s Extra Oil 54: House of Holes Vision
©copyright 2010 Bonita M Quesinberry

News: Power was off for a short time this AM, so delivering your Oil a bit early!

Bank of America charged with fraud in Merrill-Lynch merger and misuse of bailout monies-Executives’ bonuses; Wall St, down over 200 points again! Toyota recalls up to 8.1M cars, brakes/accelerators, FED investigating brake issue; Unemployment, 480K new claims January; Haiti, US church group charged with kidnapping children, lack proper documentation

Sister Debby: message left at FaceBook announcement of this Oil: “I’ve been dreaming of houses with holes. Odd shaped places that I can look through. I wonder who and what is going to fall thru those holes. They seem to be floating. Ok. Can’t wait till Friday to read the “rest of the story”. Love you.”

A House of Holes
©copyright 2006 Bonita M Quesinberry, R.C.

04 January 2005 was the second time in just over a week I’d had the dream; the first was 26 December 2004, just 19 days after my friend Betty had died on the 7th: I shared her home and cared for her during the worst of her final days. I had avoided discernment that first time; perhaps, because it was so soon after Betty’s death and there was a lot I was doing for the family. Although, when it was given to me that second time little more than a week later, I knew I had to act on it and asked others to pray in agreement with me for God’s wisdom and interpretation. It was even more convoluted and metaphoric than the vision I’d had of the church many years before.

“Oh, Lord, make me to understand; does it apply to me, or my daughters, or is this for all the people? Show me if the vision is from you, Lord; and, if so, make me understand its convoluted meanings. Or, show me if it is the Destroyer bent on confusion. In Christ’s precious name, I ask this of thee; make me to understand. Amen and amen!”

It seemed I was in a building of obvious and severe disrepair; in fact, as though it never had been maintained since the day it was built; yet I never saw the outside to discern whether it had been a business structure or multiple dwellings. I was at first uncertain whether I was visiting or moving in, the implication was that I had clothes with me: prepared, as it were. Yet, in the first vision my daughter María was with me as I moved from one atrocious room to another, walls of decaying wood planks revealing chinks of filtered, grayish light.

I finally asked where to put my clothes, despite having nothing in my hands, for I’d not seen a closet. At this point and much to my dismay, I was feeling as if this were where María planned for me to live when I eventually would have to move out of Betty’s home. She opened a small, smelly wardrobe and I merely nodded. We continued through weird twists and turns from one room to another, each much worse than the one before.

The areas were bare, damp and filthy, only one room housing a well-worn, dilapidated bed— one would cringe from lying upon its mussed, dingy sheets— floors rolled up and down from one another; sharp delineations not by steps but by ramshackle decay and a foundation that obviously had broken and sank into different levels. I noticed a narrow, short dead-end hall at one end of what seemed a huge, wide hall in which we now stood— on either side of which were rooms. One wall of the short hall held two separate panel doors painted an unpleasant, deep blue.

“What are those?” I’d asked, thinking the space large enough only for closets or storage of some sort. María opened the first door and smiled as she pointed. The floor was about three feet below its threshold, again no steps down; the semblance of a bathroom in that same shade of blue as the doors. It housed a commode perpetually running as water dripped from the ceiling and a musty, moldy scent overpowered; no shower, sink or tub, as the space was not accommodating.

Her smile widened as María opened the second door to reveal the floor about a foot below us. In sharp contrast, it was pristine, a freshly painted bright white, large medical room with an examining table in its midst. I was aware of other medical paraphernalia but not of what sorts. When asked, María said it was a project her friend was working on but did not state its purpose. Other than when prompted by my queries, María never spoke.

It was then I realized I was visiting, that this dilapidated building must belong to María and/or her friend, whose name I heard her say yet it did not remain with me. All I could think was what a horrible place this was, unfit for man and beast; best torn down to the ground for the rotted rubble it already had become; and, I wondered why I was even visiting. There also seemed to be no order in the arrangement or size of rooms, a sense of chaos and evil hazily pervading the entire structure, making me think someone had been sold a bill of worthless goods. Her pleasure with the place, I came to realize, was because they hoped to restore it for a care home.

In the second vision, there was a brief panning of the exterior as I exited a car; white, seemingly in good repair but inside was the same decay. I never saw kitchen facilities; except this time, in addition to María, there also were Tammy— my foster daughter in Florida— and another dark-haired woman I didn’t know— perhaps the friend María had mentioned previously— and various men I’d never seen before, each of them tall and rather rough in appearance yet neat in dress; contrarily, I was introduced to no one. Investors, perhaps?

This time, however, it was implied that Princess, my ferret, was with me but in her cage somewhere as, again, we walked through rooms that had not changed at all. If anything, the filth and stench of mold and rot were worse, as was a sense of pervading chaos.

Standing in what must have been a living room or waiting area at the front entrance, I was made aware that someone had let Princess out of her cage and she was running all over the place. About this time, Tammy opened the front door and went out, leaving it ajar; despite a quick reminder that Princess was loose and in danger. Tammy’s stance indicated a total lack of caring about Princess’ welfare or anyone else’s, for that matter.

I rushed around trying to find Princess, to no avail, María trailing in my wake as though giving only the appearance of helping. I never actually saw the cage nor saw Princess on the loose. It was as though I’d simply been made aware. And, those men seemed to just get in the way while expressing concern, though it seemed none really cared as they smiled and laughed and strutted around with their hands stuffed in their pant’s pockets— constantly stepping into my hurried path as though to delay me from finding Princess.

Then I discovered a balcony at the other end of that wide hallway, absent of hung doors. It slanted so badly I felt as though I were leaning backward in order to prevent pitching forward as I stepped out onto it. The railing was covered with clear plastic on its outer side, the plastic’s lower edge tacked beneath the decking; as if to keep something in— quite useless, as it were— as opposed to keeping something out.

I heard a noise to my left and looked down in that direction. It appeared Princess was struggling between the plastic and railing adjacent to this deck. Just as I reached to snatch her from there before she could fall, another brunette woman I’d not seen until now, whose upper body suddenly emerged leaning over from the adjacent deck— a balcony I could not actually see— and picked up Princess; except, it wasn’t a ferret she came up with; rather, a medium-sized cat of similar color. She ruffled the cat, turned and disappeared, all the while as though I were invisible to her. Yet, I clearly had seen Princess’ tiny face as she clawed to free her self from the suffocating plastic.

I went back inside to continue searching but, very quickly, this vision of a house full of holes ended for a second time. Both times I emerged from this dream, the overall atmosphere of it seemed one of deliberate misleading and lies built upon crumbling lies. I also came away with the prevailing emotion of neither wanting to be anywhere near the structure nor the people involved; even my own daughters, from whom most of the misleading and lies seemed to be emanating, the others present only there as supporting their efforts. The Holy Spirit’s interpretation:

Rotted Wood, Mold and Poison
©copyright 2006 Bonita M Quesinberry, R.C.

The vision panned a large white house, inside decay
and people moving about; each in the wrong way.
The dream left me perplexed; so, others and I prayed
that the Spirit make me understand by God’s say;
for I know the time is short, the end any day.

“That whore and her daughters’ churches are full of holes,
teeming with poison they empty out twice dead souls;
yet outside, each shrine is a beauty to behold,
walls in My Name but man’s laws posted in fools gold,
that the people believe it’s fine to stray as told. 

“Inside: pitching, rolling floors, rotted wood, and mold;
chaotic plans with no doors against Satan’s cold,
and pastors spew bitter bile to kill their goats’ souls:
not all of God’s beginning Law spoken as told;
thus, they stand on a cliff’s edge yet see a clear road.

“And, they feed their goats to the fill with rancid meat,
murdering lost souls they send rushing to defeat;
the fetid stench one of rank hearts eager to cheat:
thus, goats and vile pastors the eagles soon will eat,
once Christ takes up His, proving God cannot be beat. 

“Expunge that rotting house; rebuild with God’s fine wood;
by His plan level floors, walls, and hinge doors ye should;
then like Christ, eat God’s Word that change ye might and could.
God soon repays with eternal life, if ye would;
but, if ye would not, ye shall perish: as thou should.

“Heed the warning God’s herald brings to thee for light;
circumcise thine heart with My Law as a sharp knife;
accept My Son Christ, that ye might avoid man’s strife;
obey My Doctrine, that thy virtue be seen rife:
then, when My Son comes, ye shall have eternal life.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

As all of you know, Princess died at 2:00pm 28 January 2010: her struggle to breathe so resembled her struggle in this vision. Now I better understand her implied presence in the dream was an indication of multiple-events in a specific time line: her death and possibly mine to follow prior to Christ’s return to include the crucial time Holy Spirit gave to us months ago: Christ’s return no later than mid-November to mid-October 2011, though myself and others feel it will be sooner, even 2010. I had asked the Lord to let Princess to stay with me until my time to depart this life; thus, since she is now gone, I feel my time may come before Christ arrives. Still, He will raise me up to Him. Praise the Lord!

The presence of my daughter and foster daughter were used in two ways: 1. that Tammy, who had been lukewarm for 28 years, went “out” from that moldy house to breathe the fresh air of God’s Truth; and 2. both girls reflected the true emotions and characters of the Great Whore and her harlot daughters, today represented by the World Church. They were indifferent and without conscience, as are Satan’s synagogues; in Truth, both my daughters trust God, His Law and Jesus and neither are now lukewarm: rather, HOT.

Indeed, the World Church is a house of holes, rotting wood, and poison turning out twice dead souls. Its centuries of lies built upon lies and more lies, the many rooms being many denominations of unharmonious doctrines, are crumbling before our very eyes, Jack Van Impe one example of its leaderss crumbling into illogical stories constantly changing. It is without remorse; unrepentant of its lies to the world; without guilt of its bloody history and the blood it shall soon spill again. It is without conscience, so it and its leaders can lie with such smooth ease: it slays its own with cunning grins and false promises of eternal life for even the unredeemable, the unholy, the unrighteous: a promise of eternal life that it never can give, giving in return only broken promises to be destroyed by fire.

This vision came the second time on 04 January 2005, then was followed on the morning of 16 January 2005 by my awakening in tears as the Holy Spirit spoke to me (poem: I Lay Weeping), telling me it was too late for the world at large to turn around. Alas, as the copyright notices indicate, the vision was not shared with Christ’s Sheep until 25 January 2006; however, the awakening was shared on the date it occurred, in so much pain our Father was that I had to put the emotions and words into writing immediately.

Satan did not want A House of Holes, the vision to reach anyone; thus, on 28 June 2005, Satan struck me down with a brain aneurysm and I lay on my sofa for five days. On 02 July, my neighbor rushed me to Bremerton’s Harris Hospital, who quickly transferred me to Seattle’s Harborview Hospital. Surgery was performed early on 03 July and I survived against all odds: statistically no one survives the type, size and location of the aneurysm I experienced. It was huge, in the right temporal lobe and blew in my surgeon’s hands. 

He has tried so many times since I was age 6, but again Satan failed to kill me and the vision would finally reach one small flock of Sheep on 04 January 2006 for them to share with others; but not before 09 December 2005, when Gabriel awoke me again as His words mingled with my tears (poem: Again This Dawn). He reminded me to inform the Sheep of the times and to recognize the Apostate Church accompanied with another plea to those who had yet to “come out of her, my people,” out from her and/or her daughters, as well as another warning to the lukewarm and another chance to reach the cold. Much of the time, I feel as though no one is listening, muchless heeding: it breaks my heart.

In both awakenings, my tears flowed for the lost but was felt more deeply because I sensed the extreme, overwhelming grief God is feeling for those who refuse to turn and those who refuse to come out from; and, now it is almost too late in the day for even the lukewarm: the eleventh hour is upon us. God is about to spew out of His mouth the lukewarm. Please, make the choice to use the Truth you know to stoke your spiritual fires until you are on fire for God, Christ and their Truth in oneness; and if cold, instantly embrace the Truth that has been brought to you: Truth which will set you free of man’s deadly form of the Word; freedom then will carry you to eternal life!

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5 February 2010 - Posted by | Apostate, Blasphemy, Brain Aneurysms, Christ, Christianity, Christs Return, Church, Death, Dreams, Economy, End Times, Escatology, Evil, False Prophets, God, Great Whore, Haiti, Hal Lindsey, Harlot Daughters, Heresy, Heretics, Holy Spirit, Inquisition, Jack Van Impe, Jesus, Jews, Lord's Day, Love, Manipulation, Mark, Nature, News, Papal Rome, Pat Robertson, Poem, Poems, Prophecy, Protestantism, Protestants, Redemption, Religion, Remnant, Resurrection, Sabbath, Saturday, Seal, Sign, Spiritual, Sunday, Theology, Token, Truth, Visions, WCC, World | , , ,

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