Dear Friends and Family and all those from all over the world who prayed for my recovery from C@v1d,

I thought I would write out our families C@v1d experience, not just about the dizeeze itself, but the whole panmedic.  I hope you will be able to see how God is much bigger then this mess our world is in, and the dizeeze, it’s causes, the world’s solutions, the lies, the g@vernments, the m^ndates, the economy, our jobs, and the needle.

Let me start from the very beginning. 

Feb 2020 -  My good friends arrived from their vacation in Mexico to our house to visit us for a couple of weeks before continuing on their way to their home in the Yukon.  While visiting, their daughter came down with a cold, chest c@ngestion, ach-iness, and general fev*rishness.  Within a day, I followed suit.  It ended up being a terrible cold with me.  Deep chest congestion that lasted for weeks, but eventually settled to just a presence in my chest, causing me to cou-gh a little every day, for the next two years.

That was the beginning of my C@v1d experience, I believe.  I don’t know if it was C@v1d, but I thought it might be so I hoped that I was imm-ne, but I couldn’t be certain ----- so, I questioned…?!

March 2020 -  This is when C@v1d hit the fan world wide, stunning everyone.  L@ckd@wns were announce, churches closed, ghostly city streets, and mass confusion as to what was going on and what exactly is C@v1d and how deadly was it. 

I was an elementary ed teacher at the local Church.  I taught several children in a small private classroom, when the L@ckd@wns orders came and we had to close our doors.  Of course parents had to scramble to find day care so they could keep working, but that proved very difficult and my phone began to ring, “Can you take my children to your home?  Can you homeschool my child?”

I loved my job and now I was at home without a job, supposedly doing my part to help society and be part of the “Gre-@ter good” by locking myself out of the school and away from my students and keeping only to myself and serving only my family.  I struggled with this and talked over the phone and over zoom meetings with the church.  “What if I taught the children at the church school anyway?  I don’t need to be paid.  What if I did it quietly?”   There were shaking heads and fearful eyes and the answer to every solution was, no, don’t do it!  What if you get C@v1d?

What if I did? Would I die?  Should I shut myself up while people are crying for help so they can have someplace safe for their children and still keep their jobs.   WHAT IF I DIE?  What is C@v1d?  Is it really that deadly?  Is this for real?  I’ll admit, I was confused and felt a level of anxiety and foreboding I had never felt before.  I needed to talk to someone who could give me peace of mind and tell me exactly what to do. 

In tears, I knelt down in my little prayer room.  I told God I was his and here to do whatever He needed me to do for him no matter the cost, even my life, if need be.  I told Him how I loved the children and wanted them to be safe and free and to continue learning about him in school, but I needed Him to tell me what was right under these special circumstances.  Then I opened my Bible to no place in particular.  I just felt I needed to hear from God, something, anything, and this is the first verse my eyes fell on.  “Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for such is the kingdom of Heaven.” Matt 19:14

With a feeling of such peace and gratitude in my heart, I felt that God made it abundantly clear to open my home to the children to come and to continue their education at my home, and also to stay after school hours for day care.  G@vernment or no g@vernment, watching neighbours or not, I had a sense that God had called me to serve and He would provide the body guards against both snitches and disease.  

“When we tune out the Opinions, Expectations, and Obligations of the world around us and begin to hear God…”

Time passed, school eventually reopened for the last 3 weeks, summer came, Ever changing and varying degrees of m^ndates continued, causing confusion from one day to the next, but it only served to strengthen our resolve to continue to serve God according to His purposes.   We went on our annual mission trip.  We served people, we prayed with people, we weeded village sidewalks and parks, and elderly people’s yards, we held classes with the teens, and handed out bags of books and small toys to children.  We sought to alleviate people’s fears and bring hope, to show them that there was still peace and joy to be found in Jesus.

Then school began again, only this year, parents and their children’s lives had changed and circumstances dictated the closure of the school for good.  Sadly, my dream job was gone, but God had other things for me.  The church hired me as their Bible worker and I spent the winter visiting people and giving Bible studies as well as tutoring a couple of children every morning. 

It was close to May, that my husband and I went camping together on the far North tip of Vancouver Island.  It was a beautiful, quite place, where we spent listening to nature, praying, and discussing the future. 

You see, we had become keenly aware of the direction our whole world was taking; More and more g@vernment control over people’s personal lives, and people’s jobs, their travel, and their speech, and even how they worship.  You see, we had already experienced the closure of our church, which was a huge part of our lives.

When the church closed, it became a very sad dilemma for us.  We were aware of people who were anxious about what was happening in the world and they would come to the church only to be turned away.  It was distressing that these needy souls were not being ministered to.  How could they feel the love of Jesus? Would they ever think to come back to a church again who had closed and locked their doors against them?  It brought me to my knees again.  “Lord, what would you have us do?”

I remembered that I had once prayed when we were looking for a house to buy in Nanaimo, “Lord, Please give us a house large enough to bring people home, a house where we can worship with friends, and study your word in companies.”   

Now was the appointed time.  And so, home church began in earnest.  Every Sabbath we drew the blinds, and friends came to worship together, in an underground sort of fashion, singing hymns, praying, and studying the word together.  Not only that, but those who came to the church in search of God and his assurance, could be directed to our house where everyone was welcome.  It was a much needed mission in a time of crisis where lots of people were suffering from depression, anxiety, and fear.  Also, God honoured us by protecting every person from the pestilences around us.

Eventually, our official church reopened and home church was able to disperse to resume our worship at church. God had protected us and we had done what we were impressed we must do to give hope to people around us.

But then their was this dilemma of needles.  We were observing, researching, listening, and trying to decipher fact from fiction.  We were also praying for guidance.  It was in mid summer that a good friend of my called me and told me her son had just passed away.  He was 31 years old and he had been needled and not long after he died from a bl@@d cl@t to his h*art.  She asked me if I could come and say a few words at his funeral.  It was a very sad time.  Later, a friend I had been to study the Bible with a few times, who seemed healthy enough, passed away from a h*art atta^ck shortly after her needle.  Then another friend, same thing.  I was so saddened.  I began to question the affect this experiment was having on the he^rt or in the bl@@d and I dug deeper and beyond just the narr^tive being fed us on the n*ws. 

Later, our pastor told me of his friends that he and his wife met with in town for breakfast a couple times a week.  When only the wife showed up one day, our pastor inquired where her husband was, and she informed our pastor that he had had the needle and had passed away.  It was enough to convince me that the needle safety studies were not only incomplete, but the data being spouted by the m*dia was severely skewed.  Something, like we had been observing in all the m^ndates so far, was not lining up, not making sense, and was geared toward ultimate c@ntrol, instead of safety. They were not warning the public!

Then the young people started getting the needle and it became quite apparent that it was having adv*rse affects on the h*arts of perfectly healthy teens, especially boys.  No way!  Being a mother of all young men, this was too close to home for me.  While I couldn’t dict^te, f@rce, or co*rce, I could plead and inform my kids.  However, the risk of C@v1d also remained.

“Dying of C@v1d for fear of the Needle or dying from the Needle for fear of C@v1d both hardly seem like worthy causes to sacrifice your life for.  But you may, whether you want to or not.

However, Dying for Christ and the cause of the Gospel seems so much more noble.  I pray that when or if I die before Jesus comes, it will be for standing firm for his cause, the proclamation of Salvation for everyone who believes in Him.”

And so, back to our camping trip on the Northern tip of Vancouver Island.  I reached out to my husband and said, “I’ve been feeling impressed in my heart that we are living in more and more troubled times and that the time of trouble spoken of in the Bible is coming upon us very fast.  The governments all around the world are talking of econ@mic problems, food sh@rtages, major natural disasters and of course, world wide dizeeze and de^th.  We have been counseled to leave the cities and find places in the country to live and grow food.  Places where we can still minister to the peopled cities but live in the quiet recesses of nature where it is safer for a time.”  I wanted to know what he thought.

My husband said, “I am with you on that.  I have been thinking the exact same thing.  It is time we step out and just do what we know God is asking us to do.”

And so, it was May of 2021.  We began to renovate our house in earnest so we could sell for a better price.  It took us all summer.  It was a stressful, busy summer and I’m so grateful that God provided just the right help and just the right amount of credit to complete all our projects.  Once we listed the house with a good realtor, we were able to sell it within days. However, here is where God began to test our faith. 

My husband took some days off of work so we could travel all over lower BC to look for our new country home.  We prayed, and we looked, but there was nothing that we could afford that would be also good for growing gardens and also still be accessible to people who we could associate with, love, befriend, and serve.  Maybe we were picky, but we had a vision, not just to live, but to minister to people.

The closing date on our house was Oct 28.  We had till the 29^th to be out.  It was just a few weeks before these dates that my husband learned from his employer that if he didn’t get the needle, he would be put on leeve without p^y until such time as he took it or his job was t*rminated.  My husband did not waffle on his decision.  I could tell it bothered him, though. It wasn’t our plan that he leave his job this soon.  We had planned that I would go and he would stay for a while longer.  We felt that this was an over-reach of g@vernment power.  They wouldn’t physically pin you down and force their exper1mental dr-g into your arm like a N^zi, but they would make your life miserable, co*rce you with threats, and f@rce you out of an income.  Something about this whole thing was looking sinister and very wrong.

  Art’s last day of work was just two days after the closing date on our house.  We were praising God that he was taking care of us!  Yes, we had no home, and no income, but we were debt free!  That was all God’s timing, and we knew it.  But the question remained, where would we go?  Winter was just about upon us.

It was then that a new friend that we had only just met, called us.  He said, “Hey, I looked up this house on the internet, and guess what?  This house that we had been looking at to buy, needs a sitter for the winter.”

We looked it up and sure enough, these people with this beautiful Ranch and house, way out in the country, with horses and chickens were looking for caretakes.  They accepted our request, and we had a place to live, rent free, for the next 7 months of winter, giving us time to develop a plan for the future with God’s guidance.  God is so good and He even provided money for us to initiate our move.

Oct 24  It was a Sunday, two days before we got the U-haul truck.  My husband was not feeling very well; he^dache, and body ach-e.  I noticed him taking extra nutritional supplements and thought, “Oh no, not now!”  Thankfully I had some Iver ---- tin on hand and started him right away on the appropriate dose, and then he rested.  And,  thankfully, he had two days to rest before the truck came and packing began in earnest.

Oct 26 The truck arrived.  Art was feeling 1ll, but with a little rest here and there between packing, we were getting the job done.  It was then that I began to feel ach-y and tired.  I gave myself all the nutritional supplements and a dose of iver ---- tin as well, but there was so much to be done.  Other then a laying down on my mattress on the floor for cat nap, I pushed myself to keep working, that day, and the next, until midnight, and then up at four in the morning to catch the ferry and move off the island. 

All day, the next day we worked in the cold wind, taking our belongings from the U-haul and packing them into a shipping container which we had purchased and would have shipped to the Ranch where we were caretaking.  At one point I was so exh^usted and had no str*ngth left to lift anything.  I had to go sit in my van, where I slept for an hour or so before resuming work with my boys.

That night we crashed exh^usted in another hotel.  I was frozen and ready for a hot shower and bed.  Food was becoming less and less desirable.  A few blueberries and grapes was all that I could manage.

I slept fitfully that night and woke up as exh^usted and more ach-y then I had been the day before.  We decided that we would just stay one more night. 

That night I felt fev*rish.  At one point I woke up and needed to use the bathroom.  I made my way in the dark so I wouldn’t wake up my husband.  I felt a bit woozy.  My  next thought was, “Why is my face scrunched up against the cold tile floor?  What am I doing here?”  I had obviously lost conscio-sness and had fallen in the bathroom.  It took be a bit, but I collected myself and crawled back to bed.  I had pushed myself too hard over the last several days.

October 31 – After two days my husband was ready to go, but I could not drive far.

I called a friend, who lived nearby, in Vancouver.  She had also had C@v1d and had good imm-nity. I asked if I could spend a couple days at her house to recover before I moved on, and she agreed. 

Nov 2 – Art was feeling strong again and able to go to the Ranch with Isaac.  He was driving my van now and pulling our small cargo trailer of belongings.  He only drove about an hour before a deer jumped out from the bank and in front of the van and totalled itself  and our vehicle.  We thank God that Art and Isaac were not hurt.

Meanwhile, in Vancouver, I was fev*rish and fading.  I don’t remember much.  My friend, Isa, who is a nrse would bring me fruit, juices, and water to drink.  She would ask me, “Do you have a fev*r?” but I always said no.  My mouth was super dry.  I felt we^k and d*hydr^ted.  My eyes were burning, but I didn’t think I was hot.  I just slept.  I didn’t eat anymore.  Nothing appealed to me.  I couldn’t taste much or smell anything and my stomach didn’t want food.  I hadn’t eaten more then a few grapes for days.  

Nov 4 – After two days, Isa, got a therm@meter.  I had a fev*r of 40.3 or 6, I don’t quite remember.  Isa was worried.  I knew she didn’t know what to do without medic^tion.  I had to see a d@ctor.  My husband had accidently taken all the supplements and iver----tin with him.  But the big looming question was, would a d@ctor see me?  I didn’t have that needle.  I was one of those, you know --- ignorant, irresponsible, s-per-spre^ders to the needled (apparently protected), and I was deserving of what I got!

Isa asked if she should call the amb-lance.  I didn’t want to be in the h@sp-ital.  I was uncomfortable with going there.  What if I get very s1ck and have no one I knew to advocate for me there?  I didn’t want to be alone in there.  I was afraid that I would die in there, alone.  I would rather die among those who cared.  But on the other hand, I didn’t want Isa to bear the burden of another person dying in her home.  Besides, I needed medic^tion.  I reluctantly agreed to go.

 Isa had lost her husband to c@v1d exactly a year before.  The d@ctors refused to admit him until he could hardly bre^the and lips were nearly blue.  They did not believe in early treatment.  She was also very s1ck and could not help him herself.  She felt the pain of rejection and the coldness of humanity while they let her husband die when they could have saved him had they acted early. 

The amb-lance came.  The attendant was abrupt and unfriendly.  Her first question was, of course, “Did you have your Needle?  I told them I did not.  They took my Ox/gen SATs.  I don’t remember what they were, but they took me from my bed onto the stretcher, wrapped me in a blanket and into the amb-lance.  There they plugged me into ox/gen and proceeded to the h@sp-ital.

At the h@sp-ital they wheeled me to a little examination room with a d@ctors office style examination table.  They told me to sit/lay on the hard half length table/bed.  I wasn’t complaining.  Hopefully, I could get help.  Soon a doctor/intern came.  He asked me, “Have you had your needles?”

“No.”

“Why?”

I told him I was concerned about the contents and that I also had several friends die from h*art att^cks not long after receiving the needle.

He actually looked at me and said, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that!”  There was a hint of compassion and concern.  I could sense it and in that moment I appreciated the warmth I could draw from it.  

The room was so cold, or at least I was.  I no longer had a blanket wrapped around me.  The table I sat on was hard and plastic cold.  I had come straight from my bed in my light, sleeveless shirt and thin sweat pants.  It was very cold!

Soon a lady came to do the c@v1d t*st.  Then another to take my bl@@d, and another to hook up 1 litre of iv fluid to hydr^te me.  Then quickly after that a nrse came with a wheel chair, handed me the iv pole and proceeded to fly me in great haste down the hallways to the ex-r^y department.  The problem was, I couldn’t manage to hold the Iv pole out at arms length while she raced this way and that.  She was angry and she shouted at me to keep the pole out from under the wheels of the chair.  I tried my best.

The ex-r^y technicians were more friendly.  They smiled and joked and were helpful. Then I was taken back to the cold little room and I asked the nrse for the thin flannel blanket under the wheel chair, you know, the hospital kind.   With that, I sat or lay  for the next 8 hour.  Not a soul checked up on me, no one took my vit^ls, and no one offered me food or water.  My mouth was as dry as parched cotton.  I opened the drawers and the doors of the little cupboard in the corner in hopes of a cup to drink from.  Finally, I dragged my long empty iv out to the hall and asked a nrse or water.  She brought a little paper cup of water and from that I was able to refill when I needed it.  By the end of the day, I was worn out and so tired.  I just wanted to lay down, and to be warm, I didn’t care if I died, so long as it was more comfortable then this. 

I dragged my empty iv pole out into the hallway.  I saw d@ctors and nrses and I made my way over.  I said, “I have been sitting in that room for 9 hours. It’s a bit cold, like a prison (I was still frozen).  I really need a bed.  Can I go home to bed? 

“Oh”, they said.  “All your results are in.  We’ll send the d@ctor.” 

I sat back down on the examination table in the cold room and in a couple minutes two d@ctors showed up, the intern, and another lady d@ctor.  “I hear you haven’t had your needles!” she said.  She was dripping in sarcasm.  “Ha, A prison cell!”  She muttered, but I heard her and I knew the other d@ctors or nrses had shared that.  She was disgusted by me, I could tell.  “I hear you have had friends who have died of h*art att^cks after having the needle?”

“yes.”

“Well, That has no correlation with the needle, and about my@cardi-tis…”

She went on to say more about arguments against the needle that I hadn’t even brought up, but I was not feeling well, and I just sat there quietly because I didn’t care to argue, I wanted to go to bed and sleep.  I looked at the intern d@ctor who had seen me earlier.  He stood by silently, kind of helplessly.  I felt sorry for him. 

She quickly had enough of my kind. She peeled the Iv tape off and took out the needle, then she took the ox/gen off my face and said, “You didn’t need this!”      She didn’t tell me the results of the ex-r^y, nor the bl@@d work.  She offered me no prscri-ption paper, or medi-c^tions.  She just motioned to the door and said, “Go!  Just go!!!”

“How do I get out of here?” I asked.

“Follow the green line.”  …and I did.  I walked slowly, my arms folded across the front of me.  I looked like a homeless person.  My thin, sleeveless shirt with no bra underneath spared me no dignity.  I had no shoes, and I had been in bed for days with fever so I can’t imagine that my hair was very orderly.

I later discovered, online, that the d@ctor did, at least, put in the records that she tre^ted me.  The government web sight called “Gateway, BC Services” has a list of the medi-c^tions pr-scribed to me since 1989.  I didn’t know that, but I do now, and I discovered that on the day  that I was in the Royal Columbian H@sp-ital, on November 4 she pr-scribed several different medi-c^tions for me. She just never told me about them or gave me a paper for the ph^r-macy.   

A thought, from the pen of inspiration, popped into my mind as I walked away from that cold room and colder yet, doctor,  “We must gather warmth from the coldness of others!”    Over and over again that thought persisted and I pondered it for days.  How do you draw warmth from the coldness of others? I couldn’t remember the rest of the quote.  Here, I have looked it up.

“Already the judgements of God are abroad in the land as seen in the storms, in floods, in tempests, in earthquakes, in perils by land and by sea.  The great I am is speaking to those who make void his law (of Love).  When God’s wrath is poured out upon the earth, who will then be able to stand?... To stand in defense of truth and righteousness when the majority forsake us… ---This will be our test.  At this time we must gather warmth from the coldness of others, courage from their cowardice, and loyalty from their treason.  The Nation will be on the side of the great rebel leader.  (RH Jan 11 1887)

I think it means that the coldness of others will make us all the more determined to be loving, and to gather courage from cowardice is to face the battle with fixed bravery, and to stand loyal to God and His ways when the whole world rejects Him and you…. And so I choose to forgive this d@ctor.  I hope she finds Jesus and experiences the perfect peace that He has to give before it is too late, because Jesus is coming soon! 

 

 

The doors of the h@sp-ital showed the weather outside, pouring rain and cold.    A sec-rity man saw me contemplate the open doors.  “Ma’am” he said in a kind way,  “You can’t go out there.  You have no shoes or coat.  Then he offered me a chair and a blanket.  I have never appreciated a kindness more.  From there I called my friend, Isa, to come get me with a taxi.

I don’t remember much after that.  I know, my mom called, the next day.  I was very fev*red, but I could see her face on the phone and she was in a big building with lots going on.  I asked where she was and she said she was at the airport getting on the plane and she would be with me by late evening.  

I cried.  How could this be?  She was not needled either.  How could she cross the b@rder?  But God is a God of miracles and between her and another friend, travel agent, they discovered a rule that if a person had had c@v1d and could prove it, within the last 108 days, they could cross the b@rder without either a needle or a t*st.  Praise the Lord! 

Grass doesn’t grow under MY mother’s feet and I knew if anyone could help me or get me help, it was mother.

When my mom arrived, she woke me.  I was comfortable under a huge blanket.  I was burning up and so the tre^tm*nts began.  A cool sponge bath to lower the fev*r and get it under control.  Isa rubbed me down with cold clothes from head to toe, and they took my ox/gen SATs.  I was in the low 70’s.  It wasn’t good.

I don’t know how things transpired from there.  All I know, was that suddenly God was sending people to help me.  A lady D@ctor, over the phone, pr-scribed some m*di-cine,  a Nature Path d@ctor/friend heard I was s!ck and drove hours to where I was, with an Ox/gen concentrator owned by another friend.  Another Kind d@ctor, from far, ordered more m*dic^tions and phoned the pr-scri-ptions in to the nearest ph^rm-acy, and yet another D@ctor/friend from the USA oversaw the dispensing and the increasing and decreasing of the m*ds based on the detailed information he received on my condition over the phone.

But, that wasn’t all,   A gentleman/nurse from the Ezra Foundation came by,  who had also lost his job for not taking the Needle because he was afraid it would make his auto imm-ne dizeeze flare up.  He brought essential oils for the diffuser and showed me how to do the most effective l-ng exercise.  He then asked if he could lay hands on me and pray for me.   His kindness really touched my h*art.  He was a gentle soul, and I’ll forever be grateful.  

Then a church family from the Nanaimo church ordered enough food for weeks, from a local grocery store, to be delivered at the door of my friend’s home where we were staying. 

Finally, and most impressive of all miracles to me is this:  My father called and told me that people were praying for me.  He started naming off, not just family and friends, but people from countries all around the world, country after country.  I was moved to tears to learn that I have a family of brothers and sisters world wide who were willing to get on their knees and plead with God on my behalf.  I began to understand that thousands of people were praying for me,  for little me!  I also realized the power of united prayer, and I’m ever so grateful to be part of the loving FAMILY of God. 

After Mom showed up, pr-scri-ptions were picked up, nutritional supplements were bought and I was hooked up to ox/gen, Isa and my mother set about to organize on paper the regiment of p!lls, liquids, and powders, what needed to be taken when, and what had to be taken with food or without.  What caused stomach pain and rejection and what eased the s/mptoms.  I felt spoiled.  What other person in all of Canada had a personal nrse who, not only administered all the pr-scri-bed m*dic^tions, but also cooked nutritional, he^lthy, vegan food catered to my specific needs at the time?  And who else that was this s!ck, in Canada, had a family member (mother) by their side to make sure I was receiving all the right nutritional supplements at the right times, and along with the help of Isa, administering hot and cold Hydroth*rapy tre^tments morning and evening, along with percussion massage to loosen any phlegm in my l-ngs to improve my bre^thing.  God is so good!

I had become very weak, to the point of hardly being able to walk.  It was a very strange feeling.  I had to be helped to the bathroom and back to my bed.  At first I had several sponge baths with cool water to bring down the fev*r, but soon the fev*r broke and the ch*st fomentations began in earnest. 

Days past and my ox/gen levels began to improve, I gained str*ngth little by little and was able to walk from one room to another. 

After a few more days, I was able to walk outside a little bit, and gradually around one block, then two, then up 5 steps very shakily. 

Some days I felt I was gaining ground, other days I felt absolutely exh^usted and weak.  All in all, though, I was so grateful for the grace of God.

I had learned so much!  I had learned to gather warmth from the coldness and cowardice of others, and I had learned that there were hundreds of people, strangers and friends, who cared.

Most of my family and I are now together again and living on the Ranch for the time being (Some of the boys are living on their own now).  We want to start a ministry for God.  We want to serve him since we are no longer empl@yed.  We want to train young people to be missionaries to bring His love to our confused and struggling society.  May God continue to bless us with his Grace.