I have never understood this Saint business. When one has Christ always ready and Angels ministering to the Faithful's needs in an instant, the catholic remedy of Saints being prayed to appears a necro usurpation of the Christ.
I trust Joan of Arc du Lis. I know her and I'm not going to divulge how, as I'm in enough trouble with her that might never be repaired as I have a volcanic Holy Ghost nature and I had a caldera for which I'm eternally sorry for.
Her Excellency stated that the Archangel Michael came to her first, and then these Saints Margaret and Catherine, who were virgin martyrs in catholic tradition were her voices to guide her.
I get things wrong, but I don't think much of Margaret or Catherine. I know that Joan had to die or she would have ushered in things with Christopher Columbus before God intended........just the same it galls me that these two Saints seemed a bit too blessed anxious to getting my Joan to the stake to join their virginal martyr group.
That pisses me off and right now I'm already in a pissed off mood in being jerked around.
Catherine was murdered it was said on the breaking wheel, which was basically a woman tied to a wooden wheel, and a maul was used to break her bones in the limbs in several places. I guess one could also pry on the bones to the wheel spokes with a bar to do the deed too, but the point was torture in it's form.
The French were always good about things in being afraid of making brutal murder too brutal, in they allowed the coups de grâce or the blows of mercy to the chest to.........well if you stomp on the heart, it shocks it, and doing it hard enough on a chest cavity explodes things inside and death comes quickly after the exploding tissues.
Margaret was murdered after being tortured in being beheaded. Both were cultus as followers of both these Saints apparently had a great deal of things done for them.
Martyrdom is a high honor, but for my chivalry, Joan of Arc du Lis was let down by these Saints, betrayed by her soldiers and had nothing but treachery from the French.
The only person who amounted to spit was an Englishman in the Cauchon kangaroo court who said, "By God if she was English, she would not be here".
Meaning the English would never have exposed a leader of their's to this degradation and repeated rape attempts while in chains by her English guards.
I have seen the light Joan spoke of and have written of it. I know the source and know Joan's part in it. It shocked me the first time, and baffled me other times.........being scientific I did not know if I was going blind or going insane, as things like this just do not look right......they look not of this world.
I saw this light 4 times in 2010 and in September 2011. It was visible long enough for me to test it in moving my head and ascertaining it was not my eyes, as the light was fixed, meaning it was there at location.
In 2011, I fetched my Mom to see if she could see it, as it was quite landscape filling, and I pointed out to her the location was south and the north did not have this glow to it. She confirmed my assessment.
I dislike the waste of time in this blog on the worthlessness of this regime and their cauchon sucklings. The practice of it in purpose has been one of being in sodom and nodding at the Angel rapists. I dislike all of this intensely and it has cost me in human error my best.
I can only hope in Joan being so overwhelmed in her denying things in being threatened with the stake that while she forgives she will be more than forgiving to me.
I have a dread of that light as it means things. Lights just do not pop around to say what a nice day it will be. I far preferred Angels bumping my bed and would give a great deal to have made the energy to know the fairy tree instead of being exhausted in all of this.
It is good that I have given back immortal gifts to God, as mortals should not have such responsibility, as trusting in God in one's fate removing the constant trial of satan is liberating, but then I have failed at all of this in knowing how limited this creature is.
There is no point in this, for Joan's hand is in this, and I know not fully her gift, but only her hand in any of this.
I do stupid things in I would have argued for Joan in I still argue and it makes no matter, except in rebellion as without honor and chivalry there is nothing, and no thing has meaning.
The feast of St. Catherine of Alexandria is on Thanksgiving tide.
If I could traipse the lily fields
A billion trillion flower
I would still find the bloom
In that one lily flower
agtG
Jeahne's Voices
Breaking Wheel
