(Intermittent Waves Recorded From The Transformed Heart Of A Woman)


AUNTIE YONNY: Purpose Driven?

Isaiah 14:27

For the Lord of hosts hath purposed, and who shall disannul it? and his hand is stretched out, and who shall turn it back?



Purpose is that which has already been given to us by the Grace, Mercy, and Love of God, because we exist for something greater than ourselves---God and His Kingdom; for it is His desire for us to help one another and lift one another up, as He has planned something better for us, if we stand on His Word and endure until the end.

Day to day, following in the footsteps of Jesus, we should strive to do as much good as we possibly can, within the Will of God. In doing so, that which has been purposed within us to do the work of the Kingdom will grow, mature, and thrive from the good and even the bad that God allows to come into our lives.

Yes, we must educate ourselves and find our strengths and weaknesses, as well as those things we love to do. However, if we center our purpose upon what pleases us alone or only what we desire for ourselves, we may find ourselves, lost, unfulfilled, lacking love, covered in iniquity, and having lived our life in vain. 

The purpose that God has already created for us is completed through Christ Jesus. Therefore, we must humble ourselves and surrender our will to be Born Again through God's Holy Spirit, becoming servants of our Lord to love and care for one another, unconditionally.

Romans 8:28

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.



Derek Graves was on his way to his campaign office to prepare for the upcoming rally, when he took the time to listen to his phone messages. There was a call from one of his contacts at the police precinct in the area where the ambush had taken place. Having been confident of his plan to rid himself of Hal, he was shaken by the news of Hurley and Dudley's death, as well as the failed ambush which resulted in the massacre of his men. A chill ran up his spine and Derek clutched the gun he had placed inside of his jacket. He informed the agents in charge of his security that he felt more Personal Security Details were needed at the campaign rally on the following day, due to the recent violence.


Clearly shaken within from the bad news, his mind seemed to be in a state of shock. He tried not to give himself away, but, he was  unaware that he showed signs of it outwardly, also. Nervously opening his briefcase to look busy, he noticed the agent across from him staring at his leg. He looked down and his right leg was shaking; a nervous habit he was unable to control while under stress, especially now. Trying to be inconspicuous, he grabbed his knee and pretended to be preoccupied with important business to hide the fact that he was really thinking about the disastrous day.


Unanswered questions were torturing him inside. Had Hurley at least succeeded in ending the lives of Rachel, Zenobia, and Hal's children? Obtaining the rest of the Graves' fortune and using the presidency to become richer and even more powerful was contingent upon their deaths.


He had come too far and couldn't turn back--not now. He had always believed it was his purpose to follow in his great-grandfather's footsteps and be the next Graves to become president of the United States. His great-grandfather had made a fortune while in office and cleared up his debt with the Russians through favors and promoting their global agenda. He, Derek Graves, intended to achieve even more. His business partners were already in place, waiting for him to take office and open doors for them to make money. Yet, he would have to act quickly if he was going to change the unwanted vicissitudes that hovered over him threatening doom.


"No," he said with conviction, reminding himself, "I've worked too damn hard for this and I'm too close to the end. I'll be damned if I give up, now."


After going over his speech with his speech writer and chatting with some of the campaign staff, Derek was taken to spend the night at a nearby hotel which was close to the rally. From there, they had arranged for him to be transported quickly to the venue.


He entered the hotel room and laid down upon the king-size bed, fully clothed. He was determined to find out what happened that night. He needed to know who was still alive and make knew plans to protect himself from being linked with any crimes that had been committed. He got up and hurried to the door to hang the DO NOT DISTURB sign outside of the door. So as not to be heard, he moved to the bathroom, locked the door, and began running water in the sink and bathtub. Then, he grabbed his cellphone out of his coat pocket and quickly returned the call from his contact at the police station to get more details. The news was worse than he had expected, causing him to hang up the phone without saying a word. As if in a daze, he turned off the water and slowly walked back to lay down upon the bed.


Staring at the ceiling, he lay stiff and frozen for a while, then, slowly arose to prepare himself for bed. In the shower he tried to focus on the following day.


"Tomorrow is a busy and important day. I've got to reestablish myself so that, in the minds of the people, they believe that I'm the only candidate...the only man alive who can help them.


I've been hit by one devastating storm after another, losing the bulk of my wealth and assets, as well as my financiers. I've got to make myself look good at this rally. It's imperative that I make things around me seem, not only normal, but, outstanding, to let them know that I'm a winner and I'm going to win this race to the White House."


"No thanks to that stupid Tiledeler girl, whatever her name is, I've got to use a few old tricks of Willard Graves to fool the public," he thought, grimacing.


"She's deliberately trying to sabotage my campaign by exposing the truth about my great-grandfather's campaign and the rigged 2016 election, now, just days before it's time to vote. I'll have some surrogates condemn her story as fake news and a publicity stunt to boost The Tribune, then, I'll find a way to shut down her newspaper for good and get rid of her."


Derek gave a yawn and stretched to relieve some of the tension in his body.


"Man, I need some sleep! I really need to be rested and fresh in the morning!"


Shaking his head, he tucked himself under the pillow-soft quilt and stared at the clock. A good night's sleep was what he needed, but, he knew that wouldn't happen until he knew his enemies were dead.



Published by Mishael T