The wilderness is an unknown space, that beckons you in. A place we can’t see through to the other side to assure us safety, because of all the glorious mountains to climb and pines to walk around. We aren’t always prepared for the weather changes or the treacherous hike. Somehow, we take a deep breath and start walking the walk.

When He calls, I listen and deliver. His greatest desire is always my first priority. My obidence is often unwavering, but never comfortable. Which is my never ending human experience question: Why Lord is your calling never comfortable?

I wish I could always be obident to His desire in my pajamas from home, or with people that I already know and accept me. Instead He calls me by name out into the wilderness to experience the unknown.

I always found it interesting that devote Christians felt they could only associate themselves with other Christians. Years ago I remember a devoted Mom tell me she wouldn’t let her kids have a play date with another family because the Mom was an atheist, and the Father abandoned his Catholic faith. This to me speaks volumes of what is wrong with organized religion these days. For if Jesus took this stance He wouldn’t have had any followers! We learn from eachother by experiencing life beside one another. When we are immersed in one dynamic being the same, there is no room for growth. Growth happens to be the sweet spot of Gods glory!

My job isn’t to fill people with scripture and a wagging finger while saying things like “you should …”, my job is to live my life as an accurate reflection of Him, and inspire people to want to know the Jesus I know. Doing this “job” requires me to engage in discussions I may not want to have, and go to places/spaces I would rather not be in.

You see, I often suffer from extreme anxiety. The surge of it turns into a tidal wave of enmourous pain and suffering. It swallows me whole. Yet, you aren’t gonna find me hiding in a corner refusing to try. It’s not an option, and completely what the enemy is counting on me to do. Sometimes- I will pause- everyone has their limits, but I’ll always try.

I used to be the girl that never showed up. I made last minute lame excuses for not being able to make that dinner, or party. I’d say things like “I have enough friends”,or “they won’t get me”. Then one day out of a life experience, and pushing through anxiety, I realized life happens in the spaces we try to excuse ourselves from.  I decided to be a show upper, and to give people a chance. This requires a softness that my deeply empathic self often worries about.

I have not only watched God move within others, but He has continued to transform me. Little by little, I can see the path He had showed me being cleared of the obstacles I always declared were in the way.

Recently, a dear friend of mine said I couldn’t write these words in this space, and not expect people to feel a certain way or want to talk about it with me. This aligned with a sermon I had watched about how our anointings from God are our “usual” every day self, that we down play who we are. Why would anyone want to talk to me about Jesus- when I am average and broken too? My ability to hear the Lords voice is “normal” to me. The visions I see are no big deal. However, my “normal” could be someone’s break through, if I allow myself to rise to my ordained potential. The devil is counting on me to downplay my blessings. The devil is counting on me to be debilitated by my anxiety over my actions and intentions for God.

Lesson being: the most powerful things in life happen when we exceed what we thought was our potential, get out of our comfort zone, try our best in less desirable situations, and declare our existence in the gifts God has given us over the perceptions the devil is feedings is.

So when you are called out into the wilderness: GO. Embrace in the not knowing of what to expect, but knowing you will be a better person for it while obident to the God calling on you.


26908119_10155347841714639_9186842244593627689_n“Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be Kind. Always.”

I’ve been blessed by the kindest comments of people’s perceptions of me. “You are always so positive”, “You have quite the social life”, “People gravitate towards you”,”I wish I had the God you have”, “You are so lucky”, and so on and so forth. What an honor it is when peoples eyes gaze upon you with such uplifting ideals and values of your core. Sometimes these things are true, and others they are mere illusions.

What they don’t see is the day I am laying in bed wondering how I will survive it. My body aches so badly I can barely move. I am so exhausted, that espresso has no impact, and although I slept ten hours the night before, it felt like one. My stomach is off because it is being pumped with a handful of antibiotics that are wrecking havoc inside it. I feel like I have a fever, yet I don’t. The chills, the sweats, each take turn taking a dance within me. I feel faint and dizzy. My legs give out in public and I have to literally talk myself through from the door to the car. I am in a fog. My memory that was once known as the very best, is now often fuzzy and confused. All because a tic bit me, I had no bullseye, and had no clue for a very long time.

Thank God it has been found. Although the medical profession continues to not see it as the epidemic it is. They also think a thirty-day supply of antibiotics will “cure” it, and think it’s a new bite when it comes back in a few months or a few years. As it lingers in the body it gets worse and worse, and steals so much of what makes you wonderful. When untreated, it serves and copycats a million other “treatable” things, when in fact it’s not that at all.

I found this out about myself thanks to my very sick son. My oldest who has Autism, developed some extreme rage and behaviors. The psychiatric medications were like band aids, sometimes working, sometimes bleeding through. He was given a range of diagnosis, but nothing was quite fitting. For two years, I can confidently say, my biggest joy for my husband and I, was that we kept him alive. We took him to so many medical professionals that kept saying they couldn’t quite figure him out. His depression was severe for a child nine, and ten years old. Often he looked as if he was on the brink of a psychiatric break. Seeing as my degree is in mental health, I often beat myself up over the fact I could not pin point what I was seeing, or save him from all the pain he was in. For awhile there, I thought this was a lost cause, and that I would never see my true son again.

Those in my inner circle either hugged and loved me, or slowly backed away. Its true what they say, you find out who your true friends are in your hardest of times. You would think when you share with friends that your greatest achievement is keeping your kid alive, they would show up! Mental health issues are so confining, and lonely. If it was a physical disease, I am sure my doorbell would’ve been rung with dinner, or actually maybe not.  It was heartbreaking to learn that some only wanted to know you in the happy perspective, and not through the hard stuff. Value those that show up for the hard stuff! They are few and far between.

I learned the words PANDAS/PANS a few years ago when most thought it sounded crazy, and not a “thing”. This “thing” that the overall, the medical community still chooses to  question, and not treat correctly, is not only a thing- but nearly cost me everything! This past January 2018, my entire family tested positive for some type of co-infection, lyme, or strep- some with one, some with all. That is all FIVE of us- sick, living in Conneticut where Lyme disease was named- but what epidemic? My oldest with it in his brain, and the reason we were seeing such extreme concerns that we couldn’t figure out. We are all on long-term antibiotics thanks to an amazing doctor. The results have been life changing. I actually feel like I have my son back after two years!!! My daughter had lyme, co-infections, and strep so bad, that the doctor said she was a ticking time bomb of PANDAS/PANS too! My two youngest had strep all the time and I wondered why that was, with no answers from the medical community other than ten-day antibiotics! My personal symptoms of severe anxiety and depression that no antidepressant worked on in the past, now lifted. Sadly the doctors that actually treat this correctly, and the labs that test blood correctly, are all done out-of-pocket thanks to our corrupt medical system that is all about the money-making business, and not about the cure. I stand to wonder, what if a huge chunk of our mental health concerns could be simply cured by antibiotics what would that do to our pharmaceuticals and psychiatric departments? I had been tested for Lyme, seven times in the past, all negative, done by the least reliable but most common Lyme test given in the United States. That means, it was years I was being seen as negative for this disease, while it grew inside of me.

I have learned an abundant amount of lessons on this journey. My most important being, never giving up hope, or faith. Also, just because someone has a Dr. before their name, doesn’t mean they are fully informed, open to learning, or correct in diagnosing what is complex at hand. That I am stronger than I ever thought I could be, and that the power of prayer works. That although modern medicine can “cure” this, it is an ongoing roller coaster ride that I would not wish upon my very worst enemy.

Personally, I have been able to show up and give my all at a job that takes all of me, while being treated myself. This in itself, has floored me. I always thought I was weak and fragile. It is amazing how the worst storms of your life show you fragility isn’t an option when you need to be ironclad. Our house looks like a pharmacy dosing out insane amount of supplements and antibiotics. However, we are better, more present, and finally- FINALLY- able to leave the house. Most importantly, I not only know the what — but the WHO — matters most.

And the WHO still see me as positive, loving, and wonderful. While holding me while I am broken and a mess.


***The beauty of not being confined to one mans perception of God, has delivered the greatest freedom and understanding of the holiest of holy. My prayer is that when you read these intimate experiences, you to will encounter His greatness.***

I am about to share something so sacred that I have kept it hidden in a bible for almost two years now. I have shared it with only one or two other souls. Today, I felt a pressing need to share it with the world.

I was not born Catholic. This is certainly not the norm growing up in New England. Everyone I knew was Catholic. The ideologies of religion that I did learn was Catholicism based since it was what everyone around me practiced. However, having my own experience in heaven, and connection to Jesus most wouldn’t believe, I always sought out and trusted my own daily experiences with Him over organized religion. This kept me open and curious, which meant I was always seeking to find Him.

When I planned to experience Fatima in Portugal, my expectations were low. I had envisioned a similar experience I had at the Vatican a decade ago, when I couldn’t feel God, instead of cold shell of museum that was supposed to signify him. Boy was I incredibly wrong to assume this.

As a born again Christian, my organized “religion” often doesn’t put value on saints, or on the power of Mary. As you may have guessed, I also don’t buy into everything my own church feeds me either. So I went into Fatima, open to experience whatever it was willing to teach me about Jesus.

The moment I had a toe into the grounds of Fatima, I heard Jesus loud and clear say to me, “My light fills your cup”. He repeated it to me hundreds of times over and over again.

I went into the larger church feeling a bit complacent. Again taking note of my time in Italy, and how I felt Jesus more standing on the dirt ground of the Duomo in Milan, than anywhere in Rome.  I was not pleased with the selling of candles at Fatima, that the idea was the bigger the candle the bigger the prayer was heard. I was also not pleased that you had to pay to leave flowers or prayers at the altar. To me, this was more of a man’s operation, and less of a God one. Money is never the answer to God’s love, attention, or intention.

We got to the small chapel built on the exact grounds, that in 1917 Mother Mary appeared to three children. I did not know the story before entering this holy ground, which is proof to me that my experience was as authentic as possible. In fact, I knew nothing of Mary, other than being the Mother of Jesus. I had no personal encounter with her greatness, prior to this particular day at Fatima.

I sat down on a bench in the chapel, and a flood gate of light bathed over me. I wanted to pray, but was told not to do in stillness. In fact, I was commanded to get up and pray outside around the parameter of this chapel. So I did. I may have looked pretty crazy, as I was visibly talking “to myself” in circles around this area. I knew better than to announce i was in fact having a dialogue with Jesus.

After about a half hour of going around, and around in walking prayer, Jesus told me I was to sit under the tree and write. Write? How was I to write? Then I remembered I had a miniature journal in my tiny bag and a pen. I looked up and under the symbolistic tree that I had no idea behind the story of, I sat and took the pen and paper out, and she started to speak.

Mother Mary. Clear as day.

She said :                                                                                                                                                “I love that you seek simplicity in me and Jesus. You aren’t sold by a shrine, but by the heart. You are a mother as I am. Hear me when I tell you this-You are born to be the light of the world. You are to seek the truths and re-write the wrongs. Love is boundless. I am boundless. You, my sweet dear… boundless. Seek nothing less than to write the truths. Today July 8, 2016, The King of kings-the Lord of Nazareth has set you on fire. You will see things you never thought possible. You will be the mouth of Jesus. Stand tall in this. The devil wants you to believe you are less deserving. He wants you to believe your connection isn’t important and you will be deceived by Christian’s that you love. Love comes in many shapes and forms. Live this. Preach this. Your love for your children, your husband, your soul best friend is all love in different dimensions. Be Still. When all else feels overwhelming and confusing BE STILL. He knows you. He loves you. You are special to Him. He brought you back to be His mouth. Bring your light to the world.”

This is the excerpt I wrote down word for word. I was then told to stop writing and go back to walking and praying. As an obedient daughter, I did. I was told to walk to the far end of the marble mall area where there is a huge cross and back. As I did this, I heard the voices of Mary and Jesus go back and forth. They told me I was to write. They told me I was to speak-eventually in front of hundreds-possibly thousands. They told me I would offend many who thought only in their own rigidity of knowing Him. They told me many in my own faith will turn their backs on me. They told me I was to walk knowing His truth and not to be deceived by the evil one. I was often told again and again, “My light fills your cup” and that “love is love is love is love”. I was also told many times by Jesus that in Him I was “white and as pure as snow”.

After prayer, I met up with my family. At this time we were getting ready to leave when my sick father in-law wanted to hear the ending of the only English translated mass in the small chapel happening that day. So I stood there with him. The priest said something in Portuguese, and I heard Jesus say to me, “Listen my daughter”. The priest translated it in English, “You are as white and as pure as snow my child”. I literally gasped.

I anticipate some reading this thinking there is no possible way this could happen. I anticipate some may think this is talk about one way of religion being better than another. I anticipate some may think I am not worthy of being the mouth of Jesus. How bold, and self-righteous of me to even state it. I would like to offer this — I am not here to boast of my experience. I don’t deem myself worthy however the bible states He chose the ones the world would deem unworthy to use in the biggest miracles. I am not here to tell you my way is the only way. It is not. I am a true believer that all ways are correct in light and in love. That we are all on a spiritual journey that is perfected as our own unique experience on earth.

So yes, I am a born again Christian, that LOVES worship music, laying of hands, reiki, yoga, reading the bible, the power of healing stones, the sound of Tibetan singing bowls, seeing BE STILL and a cross tattooed on my arms, hearing the voice of Jesus , and thanks to Fatima, a personal, intimate relationship with the Holy Mother. I am human that sins and certainly doesn’t have all the answers. However, I am so loved by and in love with the Almighty, that is my life calling to pursue more of Him and less of everything else the world has to offer.

When Jesus, or Mary, calls for me to deliver something. I deliver. Today they asked me to take my notes out of my bible hidden for years, and to share them with you. I pray something in this message resonated with you.



Pictures all taken July 8, 2016 @ Fatima, Portugal: 1. sitting under the tree writing- i snapped a pic when I heard Mary say BE STILL 2. picture of the small chapel I walked around praying, and the tree I sat under and wrote 3. Husband and I in the marble mall area, and me under the large cross I was asked to walk and pray to

Become One.


We all come into this world wondering what we are meant to be- or who to be with- and where. What is we aren’t meant to be just one particular thing? What if we are meant to be a lot of different things to many different people, all in different places and stages of our lives?

Instead humanity likes to look at things singularly. You must find that one career, that one soul mate, that one place to settle down to call home, if you don’t you are considered a failure.

My soul wonders how can we ever be singular to anything when we live in such a vast universe that offers such growth. I have done so many things in my life that I thought “wasn’t me”. How on earth can I define myself as anything and be held in such confinement?

Lets take today for an instance. I’m on the largest cruise ship in the USA right now, sailing away from Jamaica towards Mexico. Years ago I would have told you I could never make it on a boat. I get sea sick, and I “don’t travel well”. These are life blockers my friends! They take away experiences that you don’t know are or aren’t you- because when you plop yourself down into categorical human made labels – you limit your most authentic potential.

Normally I would also define myself as a woman that hates adventures. Today though, while in Jamaica, I taught myself and my kids a lesson. Sometimes you just gotta try the adventure. So I climbed half of a waterfall with my daughter. Something years ago I would never ever do! Possibly my yesterday self would have never done. Today, I decided to grow.

I do LOVE predictability, and the sweet softness of my comfort zone. However, all I have become, never came from being stagnant and not daring to try. In fact, I can count dozens of times I just “should’ve done it”, but instead disregarded the moment and confined myself to what left my stomach feeling settled. Which leads me to wonder have I really lived to my best potential?

Don’t we want to live by the butterflies in the tummy? Don’t we post inspirational quotes that beg us to try new and grow? Why not live by the same -“you will never know if you like vegetables unless you try it?”- like we teach our kids?

I missed a thousand moments I could’ve been braver. I also choose a thousand moments to grow and become.

I might have spent most of my twenties with laser focus on who I would marry and how fast I can have kids. Now, my perspective has changed in my forties, on how I can grow, love larger, and not look back wondering what I have missed.

The lesson is in the trying. The truth is our authenticity doesn’t come from a singular playing field of predictable experiences. Our authenicity comes from butterflies in the stomach, and the joy of saying “I didn’t think I could -but I did”. Have faith, and give yourself grace! You will get there!

Next time you look out and see the vastness of the universe, promise yourself- I’ll try a little harder. I’m willing to become a little closer to who I am ultimately becoming. Don’t limit yourself for the “safe as could be” mentality. Take the adventure. Move to the place. Hold the persons hand. Say how you truly feel even if your voice shakes. Go on the boat sea sick. 94320858-8611-4AD9-9672-5713B2472E3E

Because the ultimate becoming – is when we – and the stars – become one.

Our last breath. The moment we can say – my purpose was to go deeper.


Undone To Become

80404DBD-7C7E-4C86-AEF7-00B5BF2CFBC0She has come undone a million times to reinvent herself. It’s the steep rollercoaster of trials and triumphs that make a person gain a back bone and soften their heart simultaneously. She looks different by the eyes that once knew her as their own version of what they molded they thought she should be. They don’t understand why she is so pliable for change and reject her. She is marked and willing by the one and only.  Do you hear me? …MARKED AND WILLING!!!!

She is me. I am her.

Since last stumbling on this sacred space I created, I have morphed into someone I’m proud to know and be. This doesn’t come without battle scars, sins, or pain. This does however include a growth of heart, a grounding of soul, and a vision of purpose. These are fruits that are grown out of the pain and joy of life. Glorious fruits I have labored for the years I have been absent here. It’s time I share them with you!

I got lost for a moment. I forgot my divine purpose and gave it to other humans to figure out. Never do this my friends! Never give any human power over your divine connection (God/Jesus/Universe – whatever your connect with that serves you).

I last saw you here when I declared to write nothing but the truth of God. I still stand in that declaration- just this time with both feet! Prior it was a half truth, as I got caught up in man made dogma, and less on the God I know intimately.

My words, visions, and experiences, have been divinely gifted to me, not to sit idle silenced in fear, but to shout from the mountain tops the glory of the Lord. I am honored and humbled He chose to use me to do so.

My prayer for this space is whatever words pour through me, may they bless you, ignite you, and deliver you the love you deserve.

Be exactly who God made you to be. Give no apologies to others who wish to make you someone else. You are made perfectly for a reason.

First she became undone in order to become.

If the Bible is your thing – here is a few verses that inspired this: Psalm 85:10-13 Loving-kindness and truth have met together. Peace and what is right and good have kissed each other. Truth comes up from the earth. And what is right and good looks down from heaven. Yes, the Lord will give what is good. And our land will give its fruit. What is right and good will go before Him and make a way for His steps.

One of the things I found most endearing about my husband while dating him, was he was a man of faith. Every week he was faithfully attending church, as was I. This was an oddity in our 20’s and early 30’s, as most our age were still sleeping from the night before. When I found this in him I knew it was special. We had been baptized different “religions”, but both lovers of Jesus. I remember thinking this is all that really mattered.

When we married in 2005, I did not want to convert to his religion merely because I believe with passion, our spiritual journey is our own. It should not be one based upon another human beings journey, but one in which we take with great delicacy a personal internal observation. I did however, agree to raise our children Catholic, as I knew it was important to him. After all, regardless of the Christian umbrella we put over our heads, we still worshiped the same Jesus.

What gets complicated since having kids, is creating the balance of raising them in their father’s faith, while still showing/guiding them that I to am faithful in my own faith. The part that I never knew would become so complicated when we married was the how to praise Jesus, not the why. My husband, who I still admire and love his passion for faith, and I have had some heavy conversations on our journey through our first son. It certainly has not been easy. However, today we saw a product of our faith shine. Not just one of our faiths but both.

Our son made his First Communion. Most would think that it means only my husbands faith. Today, God showed me how bright His light is in my son. It is not there just because of CCD, or going to mass regularly. It is there because it shines through his parents.

As I was strapping three kids into the minivan on our way to church this morning, I saw Rylan secretly practicing for today. He wanted to make sure his hands were right, that he remembered to say “Amen” when the priest gave him the bread, and that he prayed for someone special afterward.

During the ceremony I saw him bring the bread to the altar, sing a song of praise, take the eucharist, and pray. After the ceremony I was told more than once from his CCD teacher what a special, big-hearted child I had.

I may not always have the answers my child asks–like–“Why don’t you go to confession?” or “Why didn’t you have a holy communion”. I may not always agree with what the church may teach or the traditions they have. The ultimate gem is my son loves Jesus. His love for Him is not defined by the traditions, but by his heart. When there is another moment that my husband and I disagree– I pray I remember today and seeing the light not only shine but GLEAM and sparkle with His Glory.


Where ever his path may lead him, whatever umbrella he chooses to carry, I am sure without a doubt it will include Jesus lighting his way.

My son the lover of the light.
We all love the same Jesus.IMG_8228

I was one of those December babies that parents worry about sending to early to school. My parents took the leap, and sent me in as the youngest in the class. I ended up repeating first grade, not only because I was so young, but I also had a few learning disability’s that needed to be attended to. My first day of school of my second year of first grade my teacher told me something that would be held in my heart a life time: “You can be anything you want to be Aimee”. A message I would use as my armor later on when so many others would try to tell me differently.

My second year of first grade is when I went to Heaven. When I came back and returned to school, I was given a stack of homemade get well cards, and a LOT of Michael Jackson paraphernalia. I could tell the school community had worried about me. That me, surviving this, was not the norm. However, there I stood unscathed on the outside, forever changed on the in.

Years later I was dedicating all of my time to making a difference in the community. God’s words of “What have you done for your fellow man” etched into my heart. I was a high school student lit with the passion of helping others. I was also a high school student still trying to make sense of my experience, while also going through the rage of changes.

I sought out the school social worker to help me through some things I was going through. She seemed supportive when a classmate died, and trustworthy when I was on my teen emotional roller coaster. She never really recognized the amount of activism I was doing within the school and community. When I asked her to write me a recommendation letter for college she told me, “You aren’t cut out to be a social worker, you will never make it”.

Words that stung.

Soon after I was called into my guidance counselors office to discuss the future. He had only met me a hand full of times in the four years I had been on his caseload. He looked over my C average and told me I was not college material. In fact his exact words were: “You have two choices- community college with the hopes you will pass, or a job at McDonalds– I would pursue the latter if I were you”.


Had he not looked at where I came from? As my education was unique– I went from special ed to regular ed. Sure a C average was my best–however, I also had a great deal of community outreach behind me. Heck I passed a drunk driving law at 16–who does that? I was an extradonary teen that easily could’ve listened to both of these “professionals” and deemed myself unworthy of my dreams.

Luckily my spirit within wouldn’t have it.

I not only got into one college, I got into three!

While in college I was banging out a 3.9 grade point average because I was taking classes that spoke to my heart. I was learning about the history of activism and the economy. I was gearing for a career to make real change happen. I was armed with “You can be whatever you want Aimee” to disarm so many hurtful “you can’ts”.

Then came day a racist professor took me aside and told me that the only reason I made it to college was because I was “White and cute”. She said I was lucky to have made it this far, and since she was sure I had a “lot of money”, that I should invest in having someone transcribe my papers for now on.

This might have disheartened others into giving up. To me, I was filled with rage, and the determination to prove her wrong. Suddenly, I was working with a friend of hers in an internship for the Mayor of a very large city. The feedback she was getting was that I was unique in my abilities and that I would save a lot of lives in my career.

Then I went on to not only getting one master’s degree’s but two! The second being a specialized program that thousands apply to and only a handful of hundreds make it in. I was one of those handful, not because I was the smartest, but because I had the inner strength and determination to make my dreams exist.

There will always be the person in the world that will tell you “no”. The person that will do whatever it takes to discount you, or make you less then who you truly are. Recently, in my job as a school social worker, I shared this story with my middle school students in crisis. When asked how I made all of those hurtful, negative words turn into dreams–my answer was simple….faith. Being in public schools I obviously didn’t go to deep on what exactly that meant. However the truth of the matter is the only person I needed to depend on to open the doors to lead the path I am meant to, was God (and still is!).

The words we so easily speak, especially the ugly ones to others, may seem so small in our lives, while others lives literally hang on them. I do not dislike the old social worker, the school guidance counselor, or even the professor. They made assumptions and judgements with what they had, and with their own misguided thoughts of who I am or would be. What they failed to do is dig a little deeper and see me for who I truly am.

I am forever thankful to that first grade teacher that spoke the words I carried in my heart. I told her so this Christmas in a Christmas card. I am sure, even those kind words, were forgotten in her memory because it came natural to her. However in my life, I clung to them for dear life.

When someone tell’s you that you are not enough and you can’t, I challenge you to trust in God that with Him and in Him all things are possible. That whatever you are told you can not do, can be changed to I “will do”.