A German Lady Remembers and Speaks

Dear Believer,

Your nation, your country, your culture and future are all in turmoil no matter where you are right now reading this. We cannot as Christians take a passive fatalistic approach to all that is occurring. We need to cry out, warn, pray until our throats ache, and get the focus off of our small little selves.

Please read the message from a wise elder saint who has chosen to be a voice… …regardless of the what it has cost her.

In His Shadow, Mary Lindow … A German Lady Remembers and Speaks

Lori Kalner

In Germany, when Hitler came to power, it was a time of terrible financial depression. Money was worth nothing. In Germany people lost homes and jobs, just like in the American Depression in the 1930s. In those days, in my homeland, Adolph Hitler was elected to power by promising “Change.”

He blamed the “Zionists” around the world for all our problems. He told everyone it was greedy Zionist Bankers who had caused every problem we had. He promised when he was leader, the greedy Zionist bankers would be punished. The Zionists, he promised, would be wiped off the face of the earth. So Hitler was elected to power by only 1/3 the popular vote.

A coalition of other political parties in parliament made him supreme leader. Then, when he was leader, he disgraced and expelled everyone in parliament who did not go along with him.

Yes. Change came to my homeland as the new leader promised it would. The teachers in German schools began to teach the children to sing songs in praise of Hitler.

This was the beginning of the Hitler Youth movement. It began with praise of the Fuhrer’s programs on the lips of innocent children. Hymns in praise of Hitler and his programs were being sung in the schoolrooms and in the play yard. Little girls and boys joined hands and sang these songs as they walked home from school.

My brother came home and told Papa what was happening at school. The political hymns of children proclaimed Change was coming to our homeland and the Fuhrer was a leader we could trust. I will never forget my father’s face. Grief and fear. He knew that the best propaganda of the Nazis was song on the lips of little children.

That evening before he said grace at the dinner table, he placed his hands upon the heads of my brothers and me and prayed the Living Word upon us from Jeremiah 1:4-5.

‘Now the Word of the Lord came to me, saying, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to The nations.”

Soon the children’s songs praising the Fuhrer were heard everywhere on the streets and over the radio. “With our Fuhrer to lead us, we can do it! We can change the world!” Soon after that Papa, a pastor, was turned away from visiting elderly parishioners in hospitals. The people he had come to bring comfort of God’s Word, were “no longer there.” Where had they vanished to while under nationalized health care? It became an open secret.

The elderly and sick began to disappear from hospitals feet first as “mercy killing” became the policy. Children with disabilities and those who had Down syndrome were euthanized.

People whispered, “Maybe it is better for them now. Put them out of misery. They are no longer suffering.And, of course, their death is better for the treasury of our nation. Our taxes no longer must be spent to care for such a burden.” And so murder was called mercy.

The government took over private business. Industry and health care were “nationalized.” (NA-ZI means National Socialist Party) The businesses of all Jews were seized. (Perhaps you remember our story in Berlin on Krystalnacht in the book Munich Signature)

The world and God’s word were turned upside down. Hitler promised the people economic Change? Not change. It was, rather, Lucifer’s very ancient Delusion leading to Destruction.

What began with the propaganda of children singing a catchy tune ended in the deaths of millions of children. The reality of what came upon us is so horrible that you in this present generation cannot imagine it. Our suffering is too great to ever tell in a book or show in a black and white newsreel.

When I spoke to Bodie about some of these things, she wept and said she could not bear to write them.

Perhaps one day she will, but I asked her, “who could bear to read our suffering?” Yet with my last breaths I warn every Christian and Jew now in the name of the Lord, Unless your course of the church in America is spiritually changed now, returning to the Lord, there are new horrors yet to come.

I trembled last night when I heard the voices of American children raised in song, praising the name of Obama, the charismatic fellow who claims he is the American Messiah. Yet I have heard what this man Obama says about abortion and the “mercy killing” of tiny babies who are not wanted.

There are so few of us left to warn you. I have heard that there are 69 million Catholics in America and 70 million Evangelical Christians. Where are your voices? Where is your outrage? Where is passion and your vote? Do you vote based on an abortionist’s empty promises and economics? Or do you vote according to the Bible?

Thus says the Lord about every living child still in the womb. “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you.”

I have experienced the signs of the politics of Death in my youth. I see them again now. Christians! Unless you stand up now, you will lose your freedom of religion.

In America priests and preachers have already lost their freedom to speak openly from their pulpits of moral danger in political candidates. They cannot legally instruct you of which candidate holds fast to the precepts of scripture! American law forbids this freedom of speech to conservative pastors or they will lose their “tax exempt” status. And yet I have heard the words of Obama’s pastor Damning America! I have heard the words of Obama damning and mocking all of you in small towns because you “Cling to your religion.”

But I am a woman whose name is unknown. My life is recorded as a work of fiction. I have no fear of reprisal when I speak truth to you from the pages of a book. I am an old woman and will soon go to be with my Lord. I have no fear for myself, but for all of you and for your children, I tremble. I tremble at the hymns to political leaders which your children will sing at school. (Though even now a hymn or a prayer to God and our Lord Jesus is against the law in public school!) I pray you will personally heed this warning for the sake of your children and your grandchildren. Do not be deceived.

The Lord in Jeremiah 1:7-8 commands every believer to speak up! “Do not say, ‘I am only a youth,’ for to all whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of them for I am with you, declares the Lord!”

I am in Prayer for you, and for the Church! Spoken to you in the authority of Jesus the Christ, the Name Above All Names,
Lori Kalner

Prison Ministry

How America defines crime and exercises punishment is unheard of in the civilized world. . Here, inmates are herded into vastly overcrowded cell blocks, deprived of all civil rights, excluded from any rehabilitative training, and ultimately released with only a prayer to make it back into the competitive world. Is it any wonder the rate of recidivism is now approaching 70% and climbing? Some have likened incarceration asa postgraduate school for criminal behavior. How well does this square with America being cast as the ethical leader of the civilized world?

A LETTER RECEIVED TODAY:

Hello Bill and Pam,

Thanks for your kind message.  I am the chaplain among some eleven hundred inmates, many of whom will be released directly from here or go on to State prison, where they might serve a term of a year or two. All of which is simply to agree with your observation. Most of the people we incarcerate will be back in our communities sooner or later.  And yes, the public seems blissfully forgetful of this.

As there is not that much direct community involvement with prisoners themselves, the other good task people like yourselves set yourselves to is ministry with, support of the outside families.  You fill one of the crying evils of our County, perhaps of our State–a near-total lack of transitional services, job assistance, ex-con and family housing.

At the County Jail level, the chief goal of Command staff is to keep inmates safe and secure, rather than rehabilitated, while they wait for their trials to unfold, generally very slowly.  Some will end by being acquitted of their charges, too, and freed.  As you probably know, there is almost no public money for inmate Program for them, while they wait unsentenced.  They will see very few civilians inside the Jail; all of them service people of one sort or another–nurses, parole officers, rehabilitation counselors, the chaplain.

The sole exception are the ministry volunteers, whose task is to conduct worship in one form or another once a week for the many separate housing units here, for while in Custody (as opposed to State prison) we may not call together large general groups for worship. We cannot, for instance, call together all the Muslim or Jewish or Catholic inmates for their own worship services, because the inmates are separated into housing units, and kept apart on purpose, as seems most prudent to the safety officers.

So, I may applaud and give the God-speed to what you all are doing for the least of these. I don’t see many places where our specific goals are going to overlap, although of course we share many of their general goals–especially to reconcile their spiritual health and well-being with the grim fact of their incarceration.  For they must and despite all factors,  become whole men and whole women,  in good repute and in ill repute, still called into relationship with their creator, carrying the image of that Creator,  and considered as having nothing, yet in truth possessing everything.

I should add that some two dozen community churches are presently sending volunteers to conduct chapel for inmate groups.

The Rev. Cynthia Montague
Chaplain, Monterey County Jail
Salinas, California
(831) 755-3890
39cmont27@sbcglobal.net

And was Jerusalem built indeed,

among those dark satanic mills

Government sequesters inmates and blind us to its practices. Our intention is to make visible the process through newsletters, forums, and conversation Society cannot afford a system that does not provide reconciliation and restoration, tears apart families, and consequently will promote further destructive behavior. Correction will not happen at once or globally; it starts at the local level, with our reaching out in the character of Jesus to those who cry out in their pain. Are we not to love one another just as He loved us first?

In His service Bill Ziering Ziering@pacbell.net 831-655-4768

When we are attacked

Always remember what Jesus said, “They curse me and so they will curse you….. if I am true to my faith and people hate me and what I say, as many do, then I wear it as a badge of honor, St. Paul said “it is no longer I that is in me but I have put on Christ and he is in me”. When I pray at the abortion clinics there is great hatred and vehemence from drivers by and I take that as encouragement that I made them think for just a moment about what is happening there. There is only one Person that we need to please, and the slightest smile from Him is worth absolutely everything. Thank you so much for standing strong. The time has come for us to no longer take the position of the appeaser, history has shown it is always wrong and never successful.

From a Pro-life friend

Story from friend Rosanne

Beyond Miracle

God never showed Himself to me in grand ways but in spite of a tumultuous childhood, I felt His subtle presence. That’s why this moment in my life, which lasted no longer than five seconds, still takes my breath away and I come back to it often, hoping to glean its intended message.
Kevin and I were married on St. Patrick’s Day, 1978. In July we moved from Brooklyn, N.Y., our home since birth, to the Arizona desert. Early in December Kevin’s lungs filled with fluid. After two outpatient attempts to drain the liquid, only to have it return, hospitalization became our only recourse.
Hawkeye and Trapper played out their usual banter while Kev readied himself for his hospital stay. M.A.S.H always followed dinner in our household. Any other day I would have laughed out loud, but not this day. On this day, the mundane had become pointless.
I pressed the off button, stilling the room. We headed out to the carport the usual way, through the kitchen, out the back door. This departure would contrast all that had gone before. I would return alone and for the first time since our wedding we would sleep apart. Before opening the door, hoping to freeze time, we fell into an embrace. I still can taste the tears shed in each other’s arms before moving on.
A tube attached to an electronic pump was inserted through Kevin’s chest into his lung, but the liquid continued to replenish. Medical minds were baffled by the continuous flow, and even more so when, for no apparent reason, it ceased after eight days. I remember the exhilaration on the Doctor’s face when he made his announcement; the tube was no longer necessary and could be removed.
It slid easily out of Kevin’s body. Overjoyed, I stepped onto the room’s balcony. We were on the sixth floor. I longed to be Peter Pan and fly over the rooftops to family and friends announcing the heavenly news “It’s over! We’re going home.” That night, I stayed and slept near my love, my life, and praised God and His glory for once again coming to my rescue.
The tone of our next day differed from those previous. We knew this was our last. We chatted, watched TV and shared lunch. Life was good. After lunch, Kev developed a funny look on his face. He placed his hand near his heart. “Something’s wrong,” he said, leaning back onto the pillow. “Get the nurse.”
I pressed the call button and ran to the door, a devastating thought running through my mind. God had teased me with relief – I looked down the hall; not a soul in sight – only to swoop in and destroy all I held dear. My eyes changed direction. I turned back to the room and saw Jesus. The white sleeve of His seamless robe draped the bed. His gaze was on Kevin’s face, His hand on Kevin’s chest.

My mind flashed to an image of a boat tossed in turbulent water. I identified with the panic Jesus’ disciples experienced on that stormy journey across the sea. They had been in the presence of the Master when fear invaded their hearts and Jesus stilled the waters. I was alone, blinded by terror; Jesus not even a thought…yet He came.
“What’s up handsome?” The rotund nurse sauntering into the room shifted my attention.
“ I had a sharp pain in my chest but it seems to be subsiding.” Kevin sat up, alone now, relief filling his face.
“Probably a muscle spasm.“ she answered. “Nothing to concern yourself with,” yet she examined him thoroughly before leaving satisfied.
I tried to convey to Kevin what had occurred but words failed me. He would never appreciate the magnitude of my experience. The moment belonged to me.
I have often wondered why Jesus chose to give me tangible proof of His perpetual shelter at a time when He had become a forgotten thought. I had chosen a nurse to be my savior. In retrospect, I can only assume he wanted me to know how it feels to be loved beyond measure and without condition. He was showing me, by example that His faith in me would never waver even if my faith in God did.
I can only assume He hoped I would do the same for all God’s children.

Postscript: We left the hospital a day and a half later, disappointing our attending physician who requested we do a spinal tap since Kevin’s ailment had him perplexed “No!” We responded before he competed his sentence. We didn’t care about the why and the wherefore. Kev was on the mend and we were going home.
Even though Kevin hadn’t worked in several weeks and waiting for us were bills we couldn’t pay and our rent overdue, it all seemed minuscule compared to what we had just moved through. The morning following our arrival home, to our surprise and delight, a check arrived for a thousand dollars from Worker’s Compensation.
We were being paid on the basis of Kevin’s original diagnosis, a muscle strain. Since it was severe back pain that sent us to the Emergency room that first night, it was a reasonable assumption; the culprit, a jackhammer used at a construction site the previous day. We never questioned its validity and, with Christmas two weeks away, promptly spent every cent; against the advice of friends who cautioned us that it could be a mistake. Kevin’s final diagnosis of Valley Fever would not justify an industrial claim.
Turned out it was a mistake. We received notification shortly after the funds had been exhausted. They did not request the money be returned but no further checks would be sent.
That was the Christmas, Santa came early but Jesus was right on time.

Roseanne Boyle
October 29, 2008