This morning as I was applying my makeup in preparation for 3-legs and back to LA tonight, I saw flashbacks of various versions of myself in the one staring back at me in the mirror. From my earliest memories through childhood, motherhood and in the spiritual realm of visions where I’ve seen myself as Skyla, and the fire. A voice within me asked, “What am I?” and another voice within answered, “love.” Suddenly a script began to speak in verbs, I do love, I give love, I speak love, I am love.

We can’t provide to anyone anything other than the substance of what we are. Perhaps this is the greatest pandemic of the ages for humanity to forget it’s original essence by which it was created. If I’m made in the image of God and God is love then everything that’s not love within me is an intrusion by a parasite – a virus of sorts. It must all go. It must all go today.

During my first flight I felt the shift in the way I looked at each person boarding the plane as my inner voice found at least one thing – the first thing to come to mind and began the dialogue within. “I love her hair. I love his shoes. I love her makeup. I love his rosy cheeks. I love their matching shirts.” Every new image of every new person to cross my view was immediately part of this mind-chatter game I had playing inside of me and every person was welcomed by the voice of love within me. I saw no wrongs, had no critical language or accusations in my thoughts. I was seeing through the lens of love and remembering more and more that love is who I am because it’s what I am.

As we prepared for landing in our final flight I saw my ex’s number come across my text message screen. For a moment I felt the chilling wave of anxiety wash over my system as it does everytime I see that name. My mind immediately jumps to conclusions that something bad has happened or he wants to report a troubled situation or even is messaging me to ask for money. I closed my eyes and prayed for peace and strength and for God to handle whatever was about to surface and then a wave of worry was replaced by a wave of relief as I viewed the message. It was just a question about our son’s bank account. Later as I was sitting in the Salt Lake City airport waiting time to board to the next flight I had a memory of my cousin Ryan messaging me months back to share news of his new business he’d formed organizing garages and hauling off unwanted items from people’s homes. Like a puzzle piece of great treasure I forwarded his message to my ex. “This is something the two of you men can do together and keep separate from disability,” I said. That led to a conversation unpacking the idea and our conversation ended with him texting, “Thank you for this heads up and idea.”

It was just last night I wrote a blast email to a group on meetup about the subject most heavy on my heart – forgiveness. And as I write this now I remember the etymology study I did after my stepdad passed on the biblical meaning of this word. It’s quite distant from what we perceive in the phrase, “Forgive him,” – as if this is an act of pardon and release from a horrid act of another. The root meaning of forgiveness is seated in unconditional, unrestrained pure love. It’s comparable to saying, “Give this person the absolute best of all things – all their wishes come true.” Learning this changed my perception about the ones who had hurt me and how I viewed them; as if I was a good person to allow them to continue breathing without vengeance. I had a long way to go to learn to truly forgive – to bless the villains of my past by whole heartedly wishing the very best for them in every way from perfect health, abundance, love and wholeness in joy.

If I am love and I believe it was confirmed loudly to me this morning that my task is to remember that I am indeed love; then I look forward to remembering what that means without all of the false lenses I’ve been handed by a lost world of psychological experts acting as the blind leading the blind.

Love keeps no record of wrongs and love trusts all things.

Over the last few weeks, trying to settle into LA has. been a series of repeating the same mistakes I’ve been making since I first woke to remembrance of the buried book that was mysteriously mirroring my life. That’s when I first ran away from this rabbit hole of strange happenings into distractions and past versions of myself. I’ve been on marketing interviews, frantic shopping excursions for a used car with no resolve and I’ve tried to resurrect old business ideas with a mortgage guy from Orange County who manages a film festival he wanted me to help with. Meanwhile milestones of this journey come into my view like messages screaming at me to press forward in these videos and share the truth of my experiences.

Meanwhile my ex-husband back in Texas has been trying to drown me in his drama – calling with screaming in the background of he and my son fighting, threatening to kill eachother or themselves. I’ve talked with police, mental help facilities and family members with no resolutions. He demanded that I fly my son to live with me and for the first time in my adult life I don’t have a home to welcome him into. It’s a feeling of powerlessness and yet I wonder if that too is divinely orchestrated. I feel like there’s something important I’m meant to do right now and I wonder if this is it. Is this my calling?

From a hotel room in Boise Idaho I woke up at 7:17 a.m., unable to go back to sleep, flipped on the TV and saw a commercial featuring a film director. This reminded me of last week when Tamra sent me a submission request for faith-based stories that do not have divine intervention. I worked for 3 days on ideas to change my script from the published book of miracles from the hospital to take God out of the equation. And as if spirit was screaming at me, I’ve been flooded with memories and images popping up of past directives, such as making the sandboxes in 2018 – another season of waking up to a voice telling me instructions.

The sandbox was the most confusing message I’ve ever received from dreamstates – telling me to build something with NO reason. As I built it, I received more understanding. Based on the story of the woman caught in adultery from the Bible, I was shown that I needed to lay down my troubles at the feet of Jesus, who is called the author of life, of our faith and of our stories, who never wrote a single recorded word on a page. However, on that day, as the angry mob surrounded the woman screaming, “stone her,” Jesus bent down and wrote in the sand. When his hand touched the dirt he announced, “Whoever is without sin cast the first stone at her.” And then he bent down once more and wrote again with his finger. There the scriptures say that each heart was convicted of themselves and they left her one by one until she was alone with God. He asked, “Is there anyone left to condemn you?” “No,” she whispered. And he said to her, “Neither do I condemn you, now go in peace and sin no more.” I thought about this all day yesterday asking what he meant when he said, “Sin no more.” Then the answer came. When God rescues one from their troubles and saves her from the people and the place that covers her in shame, blame and heavy accusations, she is then commanded to not return to that place or those relationships that had discarded her and left her for dead. This was my confirmation to never go back to the situation in Texas where I almost died in 2019 of heart failure from the heavy burdens that had been placed on me alone.

The next commercial that aired on my screen was a Disney commercial for cruiselines featuring adults acting as children and believing in miracles and magic. That brought me to remembrance of my second season of listening to these directives from spirit when I spent an entire year after the pandemic creating hand made prayer candles. I used them in conjunction with the sandbox, writing my prayers in letters to God and then burning a candle in alignment with the scripture from the book of Revelation that reads, “And the prayers of the saints mixed with the smoke from the incense and was lifted by the hands of the angels up to the throne of God.” I believed this word – that my prayers were powerful when I spoke them aloud, then blew out the candle like a child making a wish over a birthday cake and then secured the letter inside of the sandbox to symbolize “casting my worries upon the Lord because he cares for me,” 1-Peter 5:7.

Looking back now on the period of my life between 2018 and 2021 as I spent all of my spare time making sandboxes, light signs of scriptures and prayer candles seems like foolishness when I consider that I’m grown woman with a mountain of troubles, no home of my own or even a car. I have no career to boast about or a love in my life to walk with me in this wilderness. And yet, I can’t shake the mystery rooted in a fantasy book I wrote 10 years ago – never read by a single eye that is so tightly connected to events in my real life. I have no choice but to wonder if childlike faith is alive and real even to mid-life women like me who had long ago given up on such fantasies and fables living in a world that often presents more darkness and sorrow than light and love.

I fly back to California tonight and have 3 days off – with plans to see David. I wrote him a letter yesterday to say goobye and keep it in my notepad. I cried through every word and still feel unsettled as if it’s not time yet. Then last night he sent me screenshots of his 2 hours spent in rigorous workouts. Dennis, the elderly psychic who called me last November told me that David’s soul still needed something from me and I needed to find out what it is. When I last saw David 3 weeks back, I couldn’t help but notice he had gained weight and looked worn-over and unhealthy. He doesn’t know that I know his mother passed in January. I found this out from an encounter with a woman who looks identical to his sister on her flight back to Austin. Angels speak to us in mysterious ways – oftentimes through strangers who spark similarities to our own situations and connections. I never recognized this until I became very open to the realm of souls who’ve passed over – not by own desire or will. This gift seem to find me after my stepdad passed in 2020. I seemingly have become some sort of conduit for loved ones who are still very much around. Anyway, perhaps this project in its own way, once revealed at a later date will be a seed of childlike belief for David too and maybe my role in his life at this moment is to give him incentive to find his new chapter after grieving a great loss and to find new life in a new season of perfect health in his mind and his body.

I was used by God to help a man come back to life and heal from a traumatic brain injury – a documented miracle that defies logic and science. Maybe I’m to be used again in this same way and I should embrace the gift God gives through my willingness to love these men in their seasons of struggling to love themselves. In my eyes he’s beautiful and perfect, and I’ll always see him as the man who walked into Aria carrying 8 bottles of Stella Black Rose wine in a black shirt with an aura of love in his countenance.

Perhaps life is a series of assignments and our role in it all is to leave each person a better version than we first found them. And I trust that everyone I encounter has a desire to be this for me too. I admit it’s not easy to trust anyone when I’ve been hurt so badly in the past. But if I truly believe the word of God, then I must believe that Love takes no record of wrongs and Love trusts ALL things.

As for the script submission request from the production company seeking a faith-based film that has no divine intervention or God in the story, such a concept is a lie for me. Christ revealed to me in 2016 that he was the conduit between heaven and earth who woke me from the dead as a 17 year old girl who committed suicide. He was the one who brought me to the Council where I saw chapters in the Book of Life and I believe he’s authoring my story today and giving me little breadcrumbs of what was and what is yet to come. To deny my own experiences would be a denial within my own soul. So, I say here and now to that Hollywood producer who seeks divine wisdom without credit to the divine, “No thank you.” There will be a day when the true Author, producer and director of all scripts we live in will be revealed to all and I will stand with the ones this world calls foolish and naive – the ones who still believe in the power of prayer, in miracles and in the spirit of love that we all hoped to find at one point in our journeys, before we were tainted by the weights of this world. I will produce my own film here, without a single viewer today. But if this is God’s will for this story to be known, then it will be at the appointed time with or without the help of a people in powerful positions.

Today I pray for the strength to press forward in this project of the Unscripted Script, for intense focus on the calling upon my life to keep making these videos and entries to track the process of my buried book as a prophecy of a woman who lost everything but today walks in faith towards a chapter that will restore and renew all that she ever had. And speaking of renewal, perhaps my next video will share the vision I was given before I left Florida of a future moment of my son’s life…. As the happy and fullfilled husband and father that he will become…

May 27th, 2025 – The unscripted script.. unravels…

It’s been a roller coaster ride of a first week in LA and to my surprise, my first flight out is to Hawaii. I knew this was a day that would create new awareness and spiritual eyes to see something new. After all, my first trip to Maui back in February was one that shifted my entire mindset, and sent me home with a promise ring hid in my suitcase of a silver crown hosting a jade stone that only fits my wedding ring finger.

The video captures clips of the magnificent 3 who visited me for lunch overlooking the ocean in Honolulu. I remembered the significance of the cardinals and how the male chases the female wherever she goes. And in that moment, I was reminded of the power of prayer too – receiving a text message about my roommates healing eye that read, “divine intervention.” She had called me from the ER after that told her she would need surgery in the morning and she asked me to pray for her. I did so right then on the phone. I know I don’t have power on my own but I also know I’ve seen miracles and carry a seed of faith that activates miracles when I speak to God. Maybe not all the time but my ways aren’t his ways. This moment was divine for me and I do believe the angels gifted me intervention with these beautiful birds. Three to me signifies the two joined together by God. Also the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And in the physical I believe the woman is asked to play the role of the HS.

Anyway, I made some choices today to return to prayer as my only weapon of the heart. I’m done denying my own heart and I’m done chasing and forcing change. I put all my love is God’s hands and I ask him to water hope and make it grow into a beautiful rose I can see, touch, feel and testify of.

Here are the clips and my writing for the night.

CJ prepares to leave Miami, recollecting pivotal moments in Southern Florida, strange dreams of past lives with the man in California, her sessions with hypnotherapist Dr. Anne Marie and the elderly couple who told her that a fated meeting with a man they called her “twin soul” was in store for her in the next year.  Remembering the feeling of when she died, met with the Council and keepers of the Akashic Records and was brought back to life in 1995, her anticipation builds…

After CJ created a film deck and submitted it to a Hollywood producer for her book to be considered as a film last November, she never heard from the man again, causing her to lose hope in the project. Then months later in March, she found out her company was moving her to LA. In April CJ then received a call from a script writer she’d met on a plane from LAX to Miami back in February. Over the next 2 weeks a strange turning of events connected CJ and the script writer in a plan to move in together as roomates – relighting CJ’s flame in the possibility of the prophecy tied to the lost book of Skyla.

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