The devil pinged me last night. And it was right regarding the intrusive thoughts it pushed at me. And I relived and realized old vague questions on why's that I had pushed aside a long time ago as in from 1 Corinthians 13:11 where the Apostle Paul wrote, "When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child... And that's the thing... it was right. Kind of, sort of. It bases its lies on just enough truth to snag you. And that the people involved have long left for heaven to speak to about it enables the devils taunts to be that much more believable. It told me that I wasn't wanted. That I was invisible. That the rejections I have felt were accurate. I talked to God about it and I asked Him if my whole reason for being was a mistake. He said "if it were, I would have rectified it." And the lights went on. Dim at first just, like the morning dawn and then breathtaking as the SON rose up in me. The devil is a liar comes directly from John 8:44 in the New Testament, where Jesus describes the devil as a murderer from the beginning who has no truth in him, calling him "a liar and the father of lies." It has been a life long battle to believe my mom wanted me. And yet she was my greatest teacher. Of course she did. I was graced with a vision that never fades that proved it over and over. From my book Trade Secrets of a Seer... "...My mother was so weak in her humanity that God filled her entirely, and together they made a difference in so many lives to meet Jesus. I was privileged to be taught by her. She mentored me through many tragedies. She taught me to speak, "Thank you, Jesus, I praise you for this," even though. Together we saw miracles manifest from these words. Many laid claim to her time and attention, but she was my mom, and she loved me. Her hospice care was short. The call at work came. I do not recall driving the distance, yet I remember hearing the song lyrics "nobody said it would be easy" on the radio. The devil is well, the devil. And he jogged my memory in this sad time of "remember when?" The memory of an act of jealousy, of my mother's time, by another's viciousness struck hard in a lie as a "concerned" person told my sister and I that we should not have been born, for our births threatened our mother's life. The carelessness in that statement haunted us for a long time and came blaring back. I gave the memory to Jesus. And He stepped in and saw that the truth was revealed as God granted me great mercy and removed all walls and boundaries and blessed me with the true vision of my birth. I saw my mom reach for me. I saw myself looking into her eyes and felt unconditional love. I saw that she wanted me. I saw that she loved me, and she was glad I was born. This heavenly vision healed more than words could ever say in a single glimpse. My lifelong doubts left and peace filled my heart. It was her time to join the others that have already gone ahead and will soon be actively praising Jesus in total joy, without pain. I crawled into the bed with her as I had always done, but there was no talking this time, just two souls bound by love and DNA. I told her it was okay to go; God would take care of me as He always did and not linger on my account. And boy, oh boy, did I know my mom! Even in her unconscious state, I knew she was waiting. And as her daughter, I knew exactly what for! She was waiting to be "officially" blessed to go. The nurses came into the room and prayed the Lord's Prayer over her. They blessed her life and ours. And she was gone. Her life's work is summed up in one act, "Nobody leaves without getting a blessing." I left her room, walked outside, and leaned up against the pillar of red brick, made warm by the afternoon sun, of the Samaritan Home. It was late October on the prairie, and I knew that even this warmth was too fleeting. I sobbed as I wept for myself. I often wonder what God thought when he put the two of us together. Even though our dispositions are entirely alien to each other, we have the same eyes. And each time I look into the mirror, I see her eyes looking back at me. I recall the vision often, and I remember that she wanted me. This knowing has sustained me through living the rest of my life without her causing me to be the last one. It was a beautiful October day, the kind that makes the calendars, and to the left of me was a field being harvested. The tractor purred along, collecting the seeds that had done their job of growing and maturing and were ready to be what their design intended. Letting the heat of the bricks warm my back, I felt my entire life flash in front of my eyes as I realized I was an orphan. And then, appearing in the almost vacant parking lot, an older gentleman was walking straight toward me. White hair. Bronzed face and hands. And sky-blue eyes. He asked, "Are you alright?" My voice caught in my throat, and the tears rolled down my cheeks like a thunderstorm. He reached out and hugged me tight and said, "you are loved, and you will be okay." Like in Luke 22:43, "An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him." And then he was gone. In that hug was an impartation from God as He took me back to my start and forged me forward to live out my legacy inherited from my mom, who was born to save the world, born to share the love of Jesus with everyone. Her prayers reached the ears of God and made a difference. She was an extraordinary woman living an extraordinary life, always on the go to meet the needs of others as a seer and a prophet. She knew of my day by looking at my face. I saw her take her final breath. In six months time I will be seeing my youngest granddaughter take her first. The legacy will continue. Less than a year after her mom passed, she joined her at the age of 82. God knows the plans He has for us. My daughter will tell her own story as she nurtures and mentors her daughters in our line, who will reap the legacy of generational blessings to continue to the glory of God..."

Ohhh the blues got to me today and sadness overwhelmed me. Missing my people has been my “Lots wife” to bear since my 20s. As I talked to Jesus a song came on about an alabaster bottle as in Luke 7: 37 “A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume… 46 You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet.” Psalm 56:8 says “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” Of course they are! Just as that not one tear is ever shed in vain. They are precious to God as it states in symbolizes His deep care and remembrance of our sorrows for our emotional struggles are acknowledged and valued by God. And then another song came on (nope no playlist was involved) out of the blue from a time in the late 70s when I was living a nightmare. I had asked God then for a recurring sign not just to help see me through the desert time I was in but that the good stuff would someday return. And in my baby Christianity He graced me with a song. And the good stuff came. So did more sad stuff. But rather than turn me into a pillar of salt, God pours His love put on me. 🎵…But there's one thing I know The blues they send to meet me Won't defeat me, it won't be long Till happiness Steps up to greet me Raindrops keep falling on my head But that doesn't mean my eyes Will soon be turning red Crying's not for me 'cause, I'm never gonna stop the rain By complaining, Because I'm free Nothing's worrying me… 🎶 And there it was again today. The shed blood of Jesus was poured out on me to heal more of me and to remind me that the good stuff is always on its way. Read about the jar… https://ministryanswers.com/sunday-school-lesson/the-alabaster-jar-a-symbol-of-unconditional-love/ Listen to the song… https://youtu.be/sySlY1XKlhM?is=hQuIEr1HtoTMJGw_

I had a dream last night. There was a storm approaching our home. A big storm. I could see it moving towards us across the landscape and I prayed. I prayed hard, really hard. There was fear at the base of my prayers. And the storm kept approaching. It was a big, dark frightening mass of swirling turbulence and my prayers were not stopping it. The Holy Spirit pinged me to ask God “help my unbelief!!” The shakiness in my body did not leave. The anxiety was still there. But way down deep my soul was steady. I prayed again. The storm stopped. Just like that.

SHOP BLOG EMAIL Discover Art! on the Outskirts Speaking from my soul... On and beyond the canvas. And He who sent Me is with Me; He has not left Me alone, for I always do the things that are pleasing to Him. John 8:29 Welcome to exploring Art! on the Outskirts Studio filled with my passions for learning and creating as I myself explore my path with unique and engaging content. I CHALLENGE YOU TO IGNITE YOUR SOUL WITH THE BLESSINGS OF JESUS I commune with the Holy Spirit to create unique and original heaven-inspired works based upon holy scripture from my studio, Art On The Outskirts, in Minnesota. I tell the stories of my observations from dream-sto-realizations in art on and beyond the canvas, via art exhibitions and blogging as I travel up through the mountains and valleys towards heavens gates. My path in life has been to expand the grace, the spiritual healing, and gained knowledge merging with creative expertise across all endeavors. I am committed to providing my clients with the best possible experience to know that God is good and here to help. And it is my pleasure and blessing to coach, chat, and mentor those who wish to accelerate their walk in faith to be more for Jesus on their path. Thank you for your time. Denise Rand Dahlheimer Who Am I

Discover Art! on the Outskirts Welcome to Art! on the Outskirts where I blog my stories where I share what I how I learned hope in the valleys and mountains that have impacted my soul through original art and words as I live for and of God, Explore the soul, the art, the prayers and stories to ignite your path up as well. BLOG My Testimony From my heart and soul into paint. On and beyond the canvas.