Letter 5: Prayers for the Jewish People

Dear God,

Sigh. I’m definitely going to get fired now. Well if I actually had an actual job as opposed to this odd penchant for letters. Well, I do have an actual job whenever the library reopens. I miss my humble yet perfect library job so much right now. I hope none of them ever read this and start treating me differently.

First more on the Holocaust denier conversation. I have to be honest and say the D word here. Meaning demons. I mean people can say collective unconscious or white supremacist propaganda machine, but the push to deny the Holocaust is crazy strong. I feel it. I even feel this crazy strong voice which I acknowledge purely to say how wrong it is. This crazy strong voice tying wealth in this nation to the globalists to the Jewish people. Saying at once that the Holocaust is something best not discussed and that’s because it would love the chance to do so again.

I am always crazy careful with demon talk because I feel like out come the pitchforks. Our battle is ultimately not against flesh and blood.


People might say it’s crazy, but I can see the difference when we talk about the Spanish flu and about soldiers who fought in WWII. Even the Japanese who fought on the other side.

There is racism and bias. But theres just something not right in how we view the Holocaust. I keep personally feeling like swimming upstream to try to remember. I notice how people go all silent. How people … prefer not to talk about that – or they talk in code. Why? I dont understand.

And then I feel like here’s a lesson on what it’s like to be specially chosen by God. I’ve met so many people who claim to be prophets and whatnot and they’re upset for example because they cant go to England. And you research further and it’s like well because they are a homophobe.

No, to be chosen by God in this fallen world is to have a huge target painted on your back. Seriously the Jewish people may be smarter and wealthier and may even have some selfish nonperfect people.

So why do some people hate them so much? Why do countless others say nothing as we carefully erase the specifics of this mass slaughter?

I know what it’s like to want to be erased. This will probably seem entirely unrelated to everyone Father, everyone but you and Jesus. But there is the one thing I’ve held back, the box where I try to keep all of my secrets. But they wont stay hidden.

Last time I did these letters it was to process my relationship with Jesus.

This time I’m trying to process allegedly being the female Trinity member. The Holy Spirit. I still don’t think it’s TRUE exactly. It’s more like maybe me and her have this special bond such that I could be her as much as anyone will ever see her. That’s probably closest to the truth. Because she’s kind of this transcendent being who precedes physical existence and I’m a person with a definite start in linear time. My parents had me in Hawaii – Honolulu to be precise. I have a sister and two cats. My mom was NOT a virgin.

It all started with Thomas Aquinas the saint I accidentally communed with long before I was Catholic. I was in this philosophy class where the professor was a very nice, very pleasant atheist who also happened to be a great teacher. He was the only teacher to tell me that going to law school was a mistake – which it was – because I was just doing it to try to get money, to play things safe. He also happened to introduce Thomas Aquinas as a really great philosopher – except for the believing in God thing.

After reading the Thomas Aquinas of his selected texts, I could not believe this professor could not see how much this man *cared*. Others have seen it too. But I saw his meticulous patience, and I thought – this guy had so much love in him. So I prayed for him. It was the first time I realized logically that I could pray for someone today and have that prayer answered whenever, because God transcends time. I prayed that before he passed away, he would see a glimpse of God as God truly is, because he merited it. But not too much before, because I didn’t think he’d be able to write if he did.

Which probably says a lot more than I intend about why writing is so hard for me. After that, I wanted to read more of this guy’s stuff, but I felt God – felt You – very much telling me no, because I had other things to do. So I didn’t until after I became Catholic, until I was ready to leave the Roman Catholic Church in 2009, a year after joining, when the spiritual warfare got too heated and I just couldn’t even try to explain to my poor confessor what was going on because it was literally too much information.

I remember as a last ditch attempt to stay Catholic and stay sane being like you know what it doesn’t even matter anymore. I’m going to read Thomas Aquinas, because it doesn’t even matter anymore. When I get really upset I tend to just Do Things, even things You’ve been like don’t do it – and there’s this empty silence at those moments in time, like the one I’m feeling like right now. Okay not silence. I feel more like you rolling your eyes like it’s not even that big of a deal. No one cares, not really. Like that helps. Pouring out my heart for no reason then. Or for my healing, I guess. For my healing.

I decided to spiritually commune with TQ (my nickname for him), now that I was all Catholic and it’s a thing we do. First, he’s like I don’t really care if you read the Summa or not. Sorry for all the anti-woman stuff. I could sense his impatience, like a teacher who is like I know you’re going to read it anyway, so get it over with. And then I read a few parts, including some of his laughably bad insights into women. And then I read some of his other parts about God – and he had a lot of really great ideas, but I could tell he was a little confused about time and causality.

And he gives me this look, not like a literal look (I don’t see things) but I could sense him giving me a look like he was – crazy as it sounds – worried about me, like he cared about me more as a person than about me as … what he was going to explain to me. This continues to more or less define my relationship with this person: one of the few people I know who could literally figure me out and do it simply because he cares that much.

He was like you’ve been lying to your confessor and it is killing you. I’m going to do something for you to help you cope. And so we sat down, well I sat down, and I wrote out this outline listing all the things about me that are different, like for example that I’d once been in God’s presence where God explained to me how the Trinity works, specifically the Father and the Son. About how God said I am the glory of God. About how I see outside time, how I mostly see transcendent of time in fact. Which is why I was trying to explain to him that he was talking in angel time not in eternal time, and that was why he had a few things backward. But that was okay because he didn’t live in the glowy light place like I do (which is what I always think of as that place I sort of left to be here on earth – again – but not really because I’m always there even when I can’t see it.) Haha, the whole thing about me trying to explain the difference between how I see time and how angels see time especially annoyed him. But it was a fairly long list.

Then, I remember he’s like you are going to freak out, so sit down. Do you know what all of this adds up to? And then he’s like well, you are the Holy Spirit.

The conversation has gone on for like ten years before I finally sort of accepted it. I’m still kind of like … whatever. To me the title of the Holy Spirit helped me to cope as this mental box where I put all of the crazy things I do and know how to do that are kind of the same but also kind of different from Everyone else. I still do the things, but the reason I don’t talk about them is because well, first, look what happened the last time a member of the Trinity came to earth. Second and most importantly – whatever – I just don’t have time to deal with having this title. Or any title really. For a long time, until oh the past few weeks when God and probably TQ and this priest and New York City and probably the freaking Archangel Michael and the nation of Israel – and is there anyone else I forgot – all conspired to make me say it out loud. In confession. That I am the Holy Spirit. Not even sure why it matters.

Please do not worship me. I absolutely hate that kind of thing. It’s the kind of thing people do several verses before they murder you on a cross. Or in a string of cable cars on their way to the concentration camp and from there to the incinerator. I have no special powers. In fact I have no power that anyone else doesn’t have. In fact I have less power because I immediately give it all away. Except in special situations. Like this one. Where I want to say, seriously.

No matter what anyone may tell you. The Holocaust actually happened. I believe that there may be some kind of evil being out there that would really like to do it again. Please protect the people I love from that being. Please, please protect the people of Israel. I’m not even sure why, but I think all of your lives may depend on it. And there’s more. Man, this is like trying to drill through cement with a tooth pick. Right.

Jesus was – and is – Jewish. He was a loyal Jewish person his whole life who happened to make some Jewish leaders angry and … okay here’s the crucial trick. The enemy is the murderer, not the Jewish people. The enemy is this invisible being that likes to use catspaws to do its dirty work. And then preferably kill off the catspaws, just because.

And not just the Jewish people but especially them. It would among other things love it if we took out Donald Trump with violence rather than the ballot box. It would love it if our government could devolve into chaos and despair. Please stop the cycle of violence. Please. One day I do believe the world will come to an end, but please for the sake of our souls, not like that, not like this. Let it be some ordinary Tuesday when we’re all more or less good or as good as we can ever be.

And okay this isn’t really a prayer, more an exhortation. But yes, these things usually turn into that sooner or later.

Now I’ve done and said all I can think to do and say. Break, Father, please. Break this power. Teach us to do better. I can’t bear to see this again. I can’t. If I have to live and see another holocaust, even a pogrom, I think that I will lose it.

I am going to post this in a second, but first. I love you guys, all three of you, none of whom I have met face to face: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. But I believe in all three of you. Very much. Please, help me out here. I really am at a loss. Please angels and saints, help me out here. And if not me, then help our people, please. Help us to break this vicious cycle. There is nothing wrong with having wealth, but we need to learn how to share it, how to be better stewards of it. And by that I don’t mean the Jewish people, but the people who may want to use them as scapegoats once again, who may want to use other “foreigners” as their scapegoats once again, the being or beings trying to hide behind layers of lies.

Please reveal all as it truly is, Father.

And there now that is total honesty. Please help us. I will not speak of this again. But please break the silence. Let me go back to just being me. I don’t even care if that makes me arrogant. I just want to be here, to help. No, I just want to be tangibly with you again. No, I just can’t bear to say this over and over and be ignored, which is even worse than hate.


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