By Anna Von Reitz
They don't like it, but they are going to stand corrected in all three jurisdictions by the end of the week.
I know people who are afraid for and afraid about me and this present situation. Well, we are dealing with thugs and people who are ignorant, so anything can happen. Welcome to life in the modern era.
When I was a young woman I worked in a natural foods co-op and lived in the third-floor garret of a rambling old Victorian House on Mifflin Street in Madison, Wisconsin.
Below me on floors one and two lived Hell's Angels.
They were raucous at times, loud music, stomping around in the middle of the night, occasional howling—-but other than that, I never had a bit of trouble with them. I respected them. They respected me. Everybody got along.
That's the way things are supposed to be, but there is one other ingredient necessary for people to get along and prosper:justice.
Justice, which is basically, fairness, has to be present in life in order for life to be good.
So one day my car got stolen. To my surprise, a couple days later, it showed back up no worse for the wear. Plus there was another car parked beside mine with my name painted on the back window with lipstick.
Seems the Angels got word my poor old car had been stolen and decided to settle things themselves. No courts. No long-winded palaver. It was a simple matter of frontier justice.
You steal a car, you are forced to give it back, and you forfeit your own. Simple.
That was their sense of fairness kicking in.
That wasn't the only time that the Angels weighed in and protected their scrawny neighbor. I didn't have to worry about getting mugged. When the heat went out at forty-below, they lit up the Barbeque and shared pails of burning charcoal through the night.
In some bizarre fashion I became their token Normie.
And I learned that strung out Vietnam vets on Harleys weren't the problem in this world. It was their slick short-haired brethren in suits who were causing the injustice and violence and misery.
I suppose it was about that moment in history that I decided I wasn't going to marry a college boy.
Looking back.... It was the time I started noticing "the Mirror" in the real world. These men and women who were supposed to be so violent and bad, were good neighbors. Good-hearted. They were just full up on the world's lies and hypocrisy and greed.
While so many of their proper sanctimonious neighbors were drenched in all of the same.... And cared nothing for justice or truth or anything beyond their own narrowly defined self-interest.
There is so much bad in the best of us and so much good in the worst of us....
It's the same way with so many situations in life that we all face. Did those people have any right to come on my land and presume I was their "renter"? Of course not! But my real quarrel isn't with the men "serving" a phony eviction — it's the men who know it's phony and do it anyway that deserve the boot.
Their whole phony "public trust interest" system deserves to end and will.
But we are not fighting flesh as much as lies and false beliefs —-and mercy is what we give to the deluded among us.
The real battle is waking people up.
With facts, with logic, with persistence — until no matter how indoctrinated and hive-minded they are, the Truth comes pouring in like the sun through parted clouds.
I have "died" three times, lost two homes, and now, my husband.
Yet, I am strong enough to bear it all, habituated to struggle and grief, a witness and victim of injustice. And so I no longer fear and give glory to God, telling you all the Truth: I am safe in spite of everything. My conscience is clear. I sleep well at night.
And I know that all I suffer now is for a greater good and will bear fruits of peace and plenty for many deserving others.
Be patient yet a little while. Doing this to me has been a fatal mistake for them, and through my experience the door will swing wide in many minds. You will finally see the old Babylonian (and later, Roman) system promoting three keys of enslavement.
But the worst of these is enslavement of the mind, for that gives rise to enslavement of both the body and the soul.
Fear is always their favorite weapon, but the truth is in my hand and I am unafraid.
IF anything should happen to me, be aware that I was ready to come or go; be aware also that the injustices that I have suffered, have been offered to each and every one of you. Rise up and use my injury as the basis for a case In The Public Interest.
Pursue Justice even if she flees and never give up until her Sister, gentle Fairness, shines on your face like dawn on the First Day.
When we approach justice with humility and without malice we find fairness waiting for us and the Mercy Seat of Judgement opens to us, like a Mother's well-worn lap. When we pretend to be God and call out our own vengeance we find only the grave.
Please be aware there is a limit to the Justice we seek for another; the injury is always theirs and what ours may be is our own shadow.
Those who attack a widow on the instance of her grief will reap what they sow in their own lives, but probably never be wise enough to connect their own afflictions to the seeds they have sown.
It won't be my part to seek vengeance, bloodshed, or war; it will be my part to seek the perfect justice that prevails when God sees our hearts and finds us worthy.
Don't worry about me. I have dared greater things and seen deeper waters. My Dark Night came when I was only 19, and having seen beyond it, and lived beyond it, I am content. Three times I lost my life and three times it was given back to me.
It doesn't get much better than that, does it?
I won't depart from you until my time has come to rejoin my cadre in the heavenly realm and then you will see me no more, but I will always be with you and I will take your part as you take mine.
Granna
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