A Memory for Monday

The memory I am going to share today is strange.  As always, if you have ptsd or did be careful of what you read.  Anything can be triggering!  This one involves partial memory of a ritual and punishment afterwards.

This is a memory I recovered about a year and a half ago.  How do I even begin?  I personally do not remember the technical names for the people or things involved – one of my others has that information and to tell you the truth, I don’t think I want to remember that much info!  This takes place at night outside.  There was a ritual going on, and human sacrifice was to be involved.  Things proceeded as usual, until I saw the knife which was held by the man leading the ritual.  The ritual leader (an older man with short gray hair and an expression of stone which never seemed to change) stood before the stone altar, the sacrifice was lying on the altar – an adult man with medium length brown hair.  The older man raised a knife over the sacrifice.  Seeing this deeply affected the alter who was presenting herself.  She ran towards the altar and got in the way – interrupting the ritual.  The man, with sweat dripping off his hair and body, sat up, and took off with a definite look and behavior of confusion and conflict – seeming relieved and yet angry that I interrupted this occasion.  The old man, was not confused at all – most definitely angry with me!  I was taken down into the basement and put into a cage under a table until the old man could come back and punish me.  This is when an angel came down – looking kind of like St. Michael the Archangel, although it may have been another angel.  He had a red breastplate for armor, shoulder length golden hair, and a white tunic under his armor.  He was a soldier type of angel.  This angel told me that God was happy with what I did and would help me through the rest what was to come.

The next thing I remember was being strapped onto another table in the same basement.  This table was in front of a work area.  The counter was loaded with clutter – typical work bench type of stuff, and a fluorescent light lit up the area.  The old man turned on a machine and proceeded to interrogate me using the electroshock.  I was also tortured with needles.  I am pretty sure no satisfactory answer was given, and so when torture for the purpose of interrogation didn’t work, he proceeded with torture for the purpose of getting his anger out.

After this was done, I was put into another cage until the night was over.

—————————————————————————

Here I am reminded that upon meditating on these type of memories and wondering God’s role in any of this I was given an answer:

God prevented worse from happening.  If God did not interfere at all, they would have been able to mark my body and any number of things.

So, that is my strange memory!

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