There’s No Place Like Home

For several years, I’ve pursued what I was told I was supposed to pursue. I have done what I was told I should do. I have believed what I was told I should believe. Then the day came when I questioned every bit of that. I had to ask myself, “What do *I* want?” Then it occurred to me that I didn’t know who I was. I had become what I was programmed to become and still, I wasn’t “approved”. I was stamped with the rejection label. After all the work, I still had not arrived at what I was told I would be.

Like a tornado, my world was ripped apart. The chaos of the aftermath left fields of rubble. I approached every day sorting through the broken pieces. I was plagued with the old thoughts of who I tried to be for so many years. I had been a part of a fundamental/evangelical community for what seemed like an eternity only to realize that I never really fit in with their description of what a Christian should be.

magical by monica_june, on Pix-O-Sphere

I had gifts that were all too often rejected by the leaders and followers. I was told my gifts were not “of God” and that I should ignore any prompting from such ‘evil influence’. In hindsight, I’ve had these gifts since I was younger and I can’t turn them off.

Believe me, I tried.

I tried to shut it down, ignore it, stuff it, and reject it only to discover I was rejecting ME.

I had days when I felt like I was wading through a foggy swamp just trying to catch a glimpse of myself in the murky water. I was ridiculed, “Can’t you see? You must be blind!” As clear as they claimed the water was, all I saw was a distorted blurry image. Then came the accusations, “well, that’s because you have sin”.

I wish I would have had someone there to explain to me that my gifts were unique and how to use these gifts to help better my life and help others too. Instead, I was “mentored” to rid myself of these ‘aberrations’. I submitted myself to remove these so- called defects until all I had left was a clone of someone else.

Making the trek back to my core self has not been easy. The hauntings of rejection echoed in the halls of my mind, but they grew more distant as time goes by. I’m not so bothered by them anymore, but they fight for their last grip on the loose threads of my mind.

The more I live my life as myself, the more hushed they become.

As I crescendo in my gifts those voices wane to a minuscule existence that I hold loosely, only to remind myself of how much I’ve ground I’ve covered these past few years.

I’ve traveled the yellow brick road with the ruby slippers all along and the friends I’ve made around every corner have been worth it. The adventures we lived through together have taught us great truths about ourselves.

That ‘great and powerful Oz’ was no wizard at all, just a little man behind the green curtain. The bellowing voice that issued demands no longer has power over me.

I didn’t need his bag of tricks to find my way home. I’ve had my own magic all along.

There’s no place like home.

*Disclaimer: As an Wellness Advocate I provide my personal opinion and experiences with essential oils, and am not endorsed by dōTERRA Corporate. None of what I testify of has been evaluated by the FDA, nor is it intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. I am not a registered medical professional and I encourage you to discuss your health concerns with your own doctor. I simply share resources and tools to raise consumer awareness. This post may contain affiliate links. Read my full disclaimer here

I am a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to

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The ungodly truth

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In the beginning, attending church was good for us. It was good for me. I needed something stable and consistent in my life. I needed community. Fast forward several years and the magic for life was fizzling out and the stress of knocking on enough doors to make God happy was overwhelming me. Feeling inadequate for not getting enough people to confess Jesus as Lord or get enough people into the baptismal waters was a terrible existence. Being told I would have blood on my hands if I didn’t warn people of their impending doom left me with nightmares as I pillowed my head at night. The competitive virus that infected me as I saw other women proudly strut down the aisle with their latest convert, made me green with envy. They were making God more proud of them than he was with me. Is this all my Christian life was meant to be like? One would only be called godly if she could convert many souls to Christ and seal them in baptism. This ungodly truth must be told.

The ungodly, no godly person could be seen in fellowship with the ungodly.


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We had a ministry, outside the church, where we ministered to those in need of recovery from their addiction. We would invite those sober for 6 months over to our home on Sunday afternoons for a time of food and fellowship.

Church folk didn’t want to come over on those days.

We spent “too much time with ungodly people“.

There’s no way my kids would ever ‘be allowed to have friends come over on Sundays‘…or ever again if we kept that up.

When would the judgment stop?

When would the compassion begin?

Is this really an accurate portrayal of God and Jesus in the church today?

Intuitively, we felt our path was right on target. Though, confused any time we set foot in church. Would that church even recognize Jesus if he walked in on a Sunday morning?

They say the devil appears as an angel of light and I’m pretty sure I saw him in church on a regular basis. Though they would like to say the devil appears as the goth teenager wearing black leather. They would say the devil appears as that young woman wear a pentacle. Lets not forget the environmentalists who hug trees, geez they’re the worst ‘devil worshipers there are‘.

The comparing of ourselves to people ‘as sinful as that’ if we happened to ‘disobey’ (err um, disagree) with the preacher… yep, we were so ‘guilty’. Especially if we happened to be women. Rebellion against the preacher meant we were guilty of witchcraft!

I could never be good enough, godly enough, feminine enough, covered up enough, plain enough, silent enough, submissive enough. I could never please God.

Fifteen years of the negative rat race that never had a finish line. Jumping through hoops that kept coming into my path, darting through arrows of condemnation hoping to not get hit and branded with the mark of the beast. “Run your race with patience“, they’d say. But did God really intend that our life in Christ was going to be so exhausting? What ever happened to the rest we were promised?

The heaven life I thought came with Jesus turned into a nightmare hell with the devil.

Leaving it all behind left me with years of post traumatic stress.

Just keep reading your bible“, I was told. Christian bloggers would try to encourage me, “stay faithful to the Lord“.

What did that even mean?

The Jesus I was handed was abusive, narcissistic, judgmental, and downright high maintenance.

I lived in fear that he would toss my loved ones into the fire and I had to race against the ‘end times’ to make sure they would be pardoned and raptured out of the coming destruction.

Guilt, shame, stress, racing thoughts, images of people burning in the pit. This is what I faced every day and every night as I lay wide awake til three in the morning when I’d finally pass out.

I eventually would cry out for him to come back so it could all be over with.

Mornings weren’t any easier.

Could there be a 12-step program to de-program me?

Program? Forget it. I’ve had enough programming for one life time.

I needed rest.

I needed heaven, like yesterday!

I get what Elizabeth Esther wrote about in her book, Girl at the End of the World.

Even the ‘admonition’ to be a ‘good housekeeper’ kept me imprisoned.

I hated it. I grew to resent keeping house. Everything I did reminded me of the shame, guilt, and never ending rat race.

If the house wasn’t immaculate, like the preacher’s house was, then I was most certainly not ‘fit for the kingdom‘.

I heard women making their remarks, “how can God bless a woman’s soul-winning time if her house is a mess?

Is that why I didn’t have enough converts or baptisms? Because my baseboards were dusty and my carpet was old?

If I took a soul-winning day off to clean house I was in sin for missing out on soul-winning.

And if we weren’t as fit as the preacher and his wife were, then we were lazy gluttons who surely would not be blessed.

Reality sucked.

Reality away from the brainwashing was no better than the reality if I stayed.

I felt like I couldn’t escape.

And people wonder why folks leave Christianity!

So as anyone might do in abusive situations, I found an escape. I decided I would visualize a new reality for myself.

Fake it until you make it“, they’d say.

Only now as I type that do I realize how stupid that sounds.

I don’t want a fake life anymore. I want authentic.

Did you know when you begin to be authentic people like them start making accusations against you?

You’re on the slippery slope, stop walking the fence, you’re in rebellion!” they’d clamor.

You used to be such a godly woman.” they’d pity.

As if that wasn’t enough, “You may not have ever been a Christian to begin with. You’re so lost.

Yep, I was headed for hell all over again.

I could never make them happy, I could never be godly enough.

Might as well go out with a BANG.

I determined to create my OWN reality, my own magic, my own life.

Authenticity isn’t really what they want, they can’t handle it.

Be hot or cold, or I’ll spew you out of my mouth” maybe God didn’t say that. Maybe man kind said it; they sure do manifest it whenever you step out of their comfort zone.

They accuse others of witchcraft, yet they practice a very evil sort of ‘magic’ in their own churches. It comes from their pulpits every Sunday. The most powerful pulpits are the ones that practice it Sunday Morning, Sunday Evening, and Wednesday Evening. Don’t forget all the extra meetings and ‘revivals’ too.

I saw what many Christians do when they come in contact with witches. It’s messy and disturbing. Right out of the pit of hell.

I’m not talking about Hollywood style witches. If you don’t want Hollywood being the representative of Christianity then don’t take their renditions of witches as ‘truth’ either.

What is a witch?

Of all the witches I’ve spoken to and through all the sites I’ve read about real witches, it’s really nothing like what so many Christians teach.

Pat Robertson likes to say women who embrace their female power are anti-men, anti-babies, and pro-evil. Being authentic about our femininity should never be demonized.

People scoff about closets and vehemently wish people would stay in them. I wonder how many people wish Christians would stay in their prayer closets instead of coming out and proudly displaying their beliefs on the city corners with picket signs and bull horns?

This sounds like I’m anti-Christianity or anti-Christians, but honestly, I’m just pro freedom, pro love, and pro spirituality. I’m pro individuality. I honestly don’t mind if you come out of a closet or not. That’s your choice. But living in a closet is no fun at all, just ask Harry Potter. ;)

A closet is a part of the bedroom where you store your clothing and keep your shoes in order. It’s the things that you wear in public every day.

Coming out of a closet doesn’t mean we bring all our shoes out at once and parade them down the street while shouting “Nike rules!” or “women must wear heels, I do!” Just wear what fits you best on each day. Wear your Nike tennies when you jog, wear heels at the club or office, wear your rain coat when it’s raining. That sort of thing.

Most people have enough to worry about in their own closets and don’t need to organize someone else’s closets.

If you have a broom closet, use your broom as needed. No need to wave it around at the crowds and force them to take notice.

If you have a prayer closet, use it wisely and privately. That’s what Christ wants. No need to announce to the world what’s going on in there.

It’s not about keeping secrets, its about having your own personal path that is unique to you.

If you want to wear a cross necklace or a pentacle, do so for your own personal reasons and don’t take offense if people snub you over it. That’s their problem not yours.

If you want to hang a scripture quote in a frame on your living room wall or display your besom in the dining room, do so. It’s your house.

This is freedom and I needed to find my own freedom away from the brainwashing.

No matter which path I’m on, it’s MY choice to walk my own path and I can do so as creatively, contemplatively, or as magically as I want.

I know this, I’m never going to allow any one or any group to force me into any kind of rat race ever again.

Blessed be.

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*Disclaimer: As an Wellness Advocate I provide my personal opinion and experiences with essential oils, and am not endorsed by dōTERRA Corporate. None of what I testify of has been evaluated by the FDA, nor is it intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. I am not a registered medical professional and I encourage you to discuss your health concerns with your own doctor. I simply share resources and tools to raise consumer awareness. This post may contain affiliate links. Read my full disclaimer here.

Photo hosting, photo sharing, stock photos, Family Friendly Photo Community on Pix-O-Sphere

How to Make Happiness Mist

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happiness mist


Aromatherapy is an easy way to help create good mental health and spiritual vitality. It really is as simple as adding fragrance to your home and even better when it’s a natural fragrance with essential oils. You’ve probably heard that a happy mom creates a happy home, but we gotta get mama happy to begin with. Different fragrances always bring me back to a memory my brain has associated with it such as home baked bread from my childhood home, baked apples from a favorite teacher’s classroom that was always filled with apple scent, and coffee beans that take me right back to Starbucks.

I have a variety of home mists that I use, one of them is my Happiness Mist.


  • Distilled water
  • Lemon essential oil
  • Fresh spearmint


Place 4 oz of distilled water into a glass jar along with several clean (and slightly crushed, to release oils) mint leaves. Place outside in the sun all day, just like you would a sun tea jar. The next day, remove the leaves and add 5 drops of lemon essential oil. Place the lid back on and shake well. Using a funnel, pour the liquid into an amber bottle with an atomizer. Shake before spritzing.

You can use this on your skin (avoid eyes) as well as in the air in your home. For a stronger aroma, let leaves sit another day or two and add a few more drops of essential oil.

“Lemon oil is uplifting and cleansing. It replaces negative emotions by creating a cheerful atmosphere of freshness and purity. It can help dispel mental fatigue and psychological heaviness. The aroma of lemon can inspire increased concentration and awareness.” source Aura Cacia

Mint is believed to be able to break negative barriers in our minds and souls. It’s combination with the aroma of lemon is a perfect union for a happy mama and a happy home.

To enhance this experience, try some meditation and deep breathing. Do you have a favorite verse from the Bible or other happiness quote that you favor?

Spray the mist into the air over your face. With eyes closed, let the mist rest on your face and think of your top 5 happy thoughts. Breathe in slow and deep and exhale slow and deep. Speak your verse/quote out loud in a calm voice. Repeat 3-5 times and put all your belief into that verse/quote as being your happiness truth.

Do you remember singing the preschool song, ‘If you’re happy and you know it”? Do you know why that song instructs you to clap your hands and stomp your feet? Because action helps raise power. Add the belief, spoken words, and physical action together and you’re raising power…happiness power.

Using the Happiness Mist, your affirming verse/quote, and physical action is a great way to generate that happiness power first thing in the morning and right before the family gets home.


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