On January 15, 2024, my husband and I had gone to bed when we heard music in the fan. It's music that seeps through other realms or dimensions. Sometimes the music is soft, other times it's pop or rock, but always the voices are muted as if underwater. We can hear lyrics, but it's just hard to make out. Back on June 3, 2020, I mentioned in a video how that occurred, and it started with angels singing, a heavenly choir, which then turned into a battle cry. Angles are warring against the darkness, the Demons, the Archons, etc.
The music that seeps through has happened to us for nearly fifteen years; it occurred in our other house and here. It blends in with white noise, such as a fan or an air cleaner. It's peculiar but fascinating and comforting. On this particular night, someone on the Board of Ed, where we live, attacked my reputation. This slander and jealousy has been ongoing ever since my husband was sworn in (January 2023), the political game-playing, backstabbing, and so on. A low-level seat to help students has been a negative, toxic experience for us, and we knew we were being watched; our every move from very early on. Sadly, my husband wants to make things great for students, parents, teachers, professionals, etc. However, we have a cult faction that neither political party supports. The hive-mind mentality of these board members and their associates is everything we've been warned about, along with the symbolism. Anyway, the attacks, the slander, the constant fictitious rumors, all because they cannot control my husband and his vote. All attacks will continue to fail. Why? Simply because we are angelically protected. Tiny angels perch on our roof in winter; in warmer months, they are in a swirlon pattern or zipping past at incredible speeds. They are all over the skies and constantly being misidentified as UFOs. They are watching and noting who's good and who's bad. And I did warn this special interest group, who didn't listen. Now, they will face judgment.
So, getting back to this night, when things get bad or when I'm very down, I pray, and on this night, the music began loud and clear but then tapered off. I tried to record it, but it was too late because I only thought about doing so. Meanwhile, my husband fell fast asleep when I suddenly felt a presence in the room. Straight ahead of me, where my dresser is against a lengthy wall, appeared an angelic warrior in shining silver armor, around eight to ten feet tall. He is so tall his head nearly hits the ceiling. He has both hands on the hilt of a large sword pointing downward with a shield slung around his right shoulder, on his back. I cannot see his face because he wears a helmet, but I can see his mouth and hear his words. His voice is profound, and I ask him why the angels and orbs appear so small to me. "We can be any size, enormous to microscopic. We are many in numbers. We are legions."
He then tells me we are on a playing field, a realm. But there is too much evil here, so the legions are getting ready. Then I saw these hellhounds. One was to the left of him, and at first, I only saw its jaws, which are similar to those of werewolves. Jaws that snapped with sharp teeth and wanted to attack me, but the beast disappeared and faded. They do not have wings, though, and they are the size of a large dog. Then I saw another one to the right of him, looming above his shoulders.
His sword immediately slaughters this beast in one seamless and effortless swoop. He can move the blade without even moving his head and does not see what's behind him. It is done so silently with such precision. He is a warrior like none other, and he is just one of many.Â
Then, I find myself wandering the halls of a castle-type dwelling with stone walls. It's a comforting place but hidden. And I sense that many command centers have been set up and moved. I come upon a group of dark-cloaked women and men standing around a large circular stone table in a room with a high domed ceiling, and I immediately recall the photo I took in my hallway ages ago. (December 2018.) The cloaked man.
Anyway, a kind woman with blonde hair and blue eyes approached me as I stood in the archway, not wanting to interrupt. She led me to the table, where I saw a slightly domed computerized screen showing Earth. We are being watched carefully and calculatively as they can easily see into this realm, akin to being in different bubbles. A membrane separates us from each other's realm. She speaks to me some more. However, I don't remember what she said exactly. It was something about how many demons, beasts, etcetera, are roaming around, some of whom can easily attach themselves to people. Various entities…all serving the same purpose. As many others have stated, it is akin to parasites causing people to do bad things.Â
I'm again in my bedroom, laying in bed, speaking to the warrior angel, who remains nameless. I quickly asked him why I went through what I did growing up (which you can read prior blogs). He tells me it was a test. Either it was going to break me, or I'd emerge stronger. Stronger it is, but regrets still linger, I tell him.Â
"Focus!" he scolds me as my mind trails off on those regrets. "You must remain focused on your task." As he stood there solidly, I asked why the angels picked me out of billions of people. "We didn't," he says in that curt, deep voice. "Many were tested. Not all take up the sword." My mind trail is off again when he yells at me once more to focus. He tells me our lives are like a labyrinth with many pitfalls. We are in a realm. Once you are out of the maze and pass those pitfalls, you are free and can move on to other realms or return to this one.
I then recalled a dream I had, which is still very vivid today, of angels fighting angels in mid-air. The dream was before the movie Doctor Strange, but it was similar—two angels inside the middle section of apartment buildings, perhaps a courtyard area. Stairs look like they're going this way or that way; other times, there's a ledge the wrong way up, but it's a roof, but it's on its side. It doesn't help as I'm now one of these angels swirling and turning, so I have no idea which way is up or down, but it doesn't matter because here, there are no rules, no logic. All time is the same, and everything is made of the same energy.
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I'm a male angel, and the other angel turned, and I recall never seeing a top or bottom as we continued to fall and battle yet still defy the rules of gravity. I remember I was mighty and strong in the dream, winning against this other angel who became evil.
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That dream fades in my mind as, once more, the angel is standing there and saying yes, you were once an angel thousands of years ago, and then you decided to come back as many do. Hence, where the fallen angels come from. We chose to fall to here, in a sense. We are not the fallen, as in evil, demons, etc. The angel then disappears.
Key takeaways: We are in a realm, and it's much like a labyrinth with many pitfalls. The darker entities are here. We are here, and it's just a never-ending battle between good & evil, except obviously, evil has tipped the scales. He used the word Legion that they are many… Many angels, he said, can be any size. There are no rules… but they are in the planning stages of something far bigger.
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I don't think we are all going to be destroyed. Nor do I feel that darkness will be extinguished because it's supposed to be a level playing field, or that was how it was designed. It has become so corrupted, and it's been this way for so long, but their time is not ours; time doesn't exist on the other side, in the angelic realm.
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Anyway, as the saying goes, whatever doesn't kill us… only makes us stronger. Some people face more trials than others. They face horrors beyond belief or sorrows enough to fill an ocean of tears. The struggles are so immense, and the battles go on for years, nearly a lifetime, as I met such a soul over the holidays; her name is Anne. She never had a break, not at all. So, for those who live such a rough life… the reward is in the afterlife, and you can become an angel—earn your wings.
I forgot that when my oldest son was helping with dishes earlier in the evening, he called out that someone had touched his arm. So, there was a presence here before the music. One in which we are grateful. And yes, I will do my best to stay on track and let the dogs bite; the sharp-toothed beasts attack; they have no power and can easily be slain or conquered. The warrior angel is showing us that we don't even have to turn our heads; it will be taken care of by the mightiest of the mighty.