Isa blogs at EndTimesMama.com and is a Christian truther hippie housewife who muses about life in the final days. She blogs about prophecy, sustainability and health. This is the End Times Mama testimony.
I am someone who has lost many good friends and confounded my family by becoming a Bible-believing, born-again Christian. More than one person has told me I’m the last person they ever would have thought chose that path in life. But I can’t really say I chose it, because, of course, God chose me.
Background Story of End Times Mama
I grew up in San Francisco, CA, which has a lot to do with my story. I had a very comfortable childhood. My parents were not vastly wealthy but we were still incredibly blessed. I went to the Waldorf School there, and learned many forms of art, music, mythology, philosophy and spirituality. My parents were artists and intellectuals and I was encouraged to follow the same path, which I gladly pursued. In high school, I was a passionate armchair revolutionary and anti-war protestor. Growing up in the city, I had seen much of the very drastic divide between the wealthy and the grossly disenfranchised. My heart bled quite appropriately for the idealistic bourgeois bohemian I had been raised to be. I loved my city, which I believed to be an oasis of enlightenment and freedom in a world of hate, bigotry and oppression.
But as I grew older, a sense of frustration with systems that seemed impossible to change with reusable grocery bags and sit-ins outside corporate headquarters began to grow inside me. I turned to indulgence in the world that I had not been very sheltered from: sex, alcohol, meaningless conversations that never amounted to anything and blowing off responsibilities. Although I loved things like English and history, I passed most of high school and college getting stoned with my friends in the park, wondering how on earth we were going to change this broken system.
I was never satisfied with any of the answers that we, or the world, came up with.
When I entered into my early 20’s, I moved out of my mom’s house and into an apartment. Shortly after moving, a dear friend of mine was shot and killed. He was not in a gang-but the driver of the car he was in, who was also killed, was wearing the wrong color hat on the wrong night. This friend of mine had been a refugee from Bosnia as a little boy and, as a Muslim, had survived an attempted genocide at the hands of the Serbian militants. The man who shot him was a refugee from war-torn El Salvador who was a member of the Mara Salvatrucha gang that was established by other refugees of that US-backed conflict.
This was when the reality of life and mortality hit me full-force. I had grown up clinging to this mentality that if we could only vote a little more, recycle a little more, petition a little more, protest a little more, enlighten more people, we would reach real change, the world would be better. But I realized now that the rhetoric I’d grown up with seemed ineffective. Evil and death and corruption ruled the world and no one seemed to realize how little their protest signs and bumper stickers and politicians in shiny hopeful packages were going to change anything. Something was terribly amiss and I began to feel like the only one who couldn’t just go on with my life as if nothing was wrong.
But I tried. I dropped out of community college and began to work full-time, supporting myself which had always been my dream. I wanted to be financially independent from my parents and I was very grateful to land a full-time job at a hostel in downtown San Francisco. I had a blast working there. I loved the job, taking reservations, giving directions, meeting people from around the globe. I loved the partying too, and spent many evenings drinking with foreigners and the hostel’s work-trade employees. I numbed the growing pain and distress I felt with alcohol, caffeine, tobacco, sex, junk food and weed, none of which satisfied me in the least.
A Growing Emptiness
Eventually I got burned out. I was gaining weight and starting to hate myself. My grocery and take-out bill was starting to hurt, so I began to teach myself to cook. My father is a wonderful self-taught cook and both my parents are gourmands who gave me an appreciation for both healthy and sophisticated foods, but I had always really lazy about cooking for myself. In the process of learning to cook, however, which I absolutely loved, I discovered another crushing and seemingly un-solvable problem the world faced: the over-industrialized and globalized food supply. I had always loved living in a city but it suddenly hit me how completely unnatural my life was.
When my friend had died, I went to Bosnia with his family to bury him. It really impacted me to see how people lived out in the country there, with little crops of greens and potatoes, chickens and goats in their yards. Every night we ate my late friend’s family would proudly tell me which neighbor had provided the meat, potatoes, vegetables, or eggs. My friend’s mother was an amazing housekeeper. It completely confounded me how, in the face of incredible grief, she could cook and clean up after three square meals a day with hardly any appearance of stress or effort.
I had been raised to think that women needed to be liberated from the shackles of domestic life, and the boys my age had been raised without any urgency to commit to and support a woman. So as I grew tired of the drinking and partying, began to reevaluate my lifestyle, and had my heart broken, it slowly dawned on me that maybe the values I had always held dear weren’t so productive. As I started to love cleaning and cooking and being at home, it hit me suddenly that when a woman stayed home to tend the house with her children, it wasn’t oppressive, it was practical. As I worked 40 hours a week to pay rent for an apartment that I only spent time in to decompress after work, I realized all I was really doing was paying taxes.
I wasn’t moving forward in any meaningful way, and I wasn’t able to enjoy the apartment I worked so hard to pay the rent for. I had been raised to scorn traditional values and yet idolize traditional foods and agrarian styles. And so I decided, I wanted to live near my food. It was the only way to lighten the incredible burden of modern life that was slowly starting to suffocate me. It was 2008 and the economy was crashing and given the precarious state of the world, I thought my life was probably not going to be sustainable much longer.
At this time, I had two friends who were living and work-trade farming in Hawaii. They had begged me to visit and I was so desperate for a break from my life I planned a month-long trip. When I came to visit them, I was so amazed to see so many young people living here on work-trade farms, meaning they worked for their rent. I thought that was so cool, and the perfect answer to my frustrations with my own pointless toil to pay my rent, and so I went home, gave my notice at work and with my landlord, and booked a one-way ticket out here.
Moving to Hawaii
When I moved out here, I loved it. I shed the pounds and learned to work hard, garden, live simply, and cook more. As I witnessed the amazing transformation from seed to plant, and was full of an overwhelming sense of gratitude when I sat down to a meal full of freshly harvested greens and fruit, I began to wonder more about the spiritual and divine (I wrote a testimony on my own page entirely about how gardening led me to God). I lived on a property with a few other people with the same passions as I, but they were also pretty into the new age, and this was when I first began to learn about the New World Order and the upcoming 2012 vague disaster predictions. These topics frightened me terribly but yet I could not ignore them.
This was my first exposure to new age philosophy, at least the kind shared by people who would completely straight-faced assure me of the salvation promised in the return of Atlantis or the doom we faced when the poles would shift in 2012. I was completely astounded by the blind trust in self-published books authored by those channeling spiritual entities. But the good little moral relativist I was, I just brushed it off as “true to them”, still thinking that one could define their own idea of who God was.
The Cute Christian Hippie Across the Way
It was during this time that I met another iconoclast anti-establishment hippie like myself, who was as bothered by the condition of the world as I was, but who did not seem anywhere near as crushed by its weight or fascinated by fairy tales of Atlantis or the idea of “manifesting” one’s reality. This man had recently gotten out of the Marines and was living in much of the same way that I was at the time: off-the-grid, with no electricity, doing work-trade, gardening, and living simply in the country in Hawaii. He lived across the street from me and the first time I talked to him was the most intellectually stimulating conversation I had had in years.
However, he told me that he was a Christian, which completely shocked me. I’d never met someone who knew how corrupted those in power were who actually believed in Jesus.
I had grown up with plenty of exposure to Christianity…or rather I should say, the opposition of it. In my world, devout Christians were blamed for the majority of the oppression in the world. The subjugation of women, racism, genocide, the Republican party, global warming, oil tycoons, whatever. It was all Christianity’s fault. I learned that Christ was a hippie and that Christians were hypocrites who just wanted to control people and ruin everyone’s right to party. I also, like so many, could not differentiate between the Catholic Church and the teachings of the Bible. I thought in terms of spiritual energy, religion being an evolutionary survival mechanism, one’s ability to choose their own spiritual terms and a God that was something other than a “big man in the sky” and an entity who certainly did not have preferences for how we lived our lives. I thought this was sensible, but little did I know it was rooted in the same things my goofy new friends believed.
Eventually, as you can imagine, I fell in love with this Christian former Marine-but I also fell in love with the Christ he shared with me. He became my husband and Christ became my Savior. I’d never read the Bible, of course, despite having strong negative opinions of its adherents. The teachings of Christ and the promise of the Gospel captivated me.
Discovering the Answer to The World’s Crisis
My journey with Christ certainly did not stop there, as I had an entire lifetime of strongholds from a carefully constructed anti-Christian worldview to undo. But the man I married was the best possible witness God could have sent to me and I thank Him daily for this. He saw the world in the terms that I did, but was able to put it in context and at last, after years of confusion and hopelessness at the ghastly state of the world, I understood why things are the way they are.
I was so overjoyed to finally find an answer for the reason the world is as hopeless as it seems. It’s because it is fallen. There is no solving sin and death, no amount of political action or bleeding-heart ideology will save it. The reason I felt so empty for years and the solutions proposed around me seemed so meaningless was because they were like putting Band-Aids on bullet wounds-on corpses. This world is dying and we are all dying with it-unless we accept our Savoir. It is amazing how much He is everywhere, trying to reach the people who desperately need Him, but how blind people can be to His promise if they’d rather live the way they think is best.
Finally there was hope for me in this awful world-in Christ! I didn’t have to fix the world myself, I just had to grab on to the Salvation God had promised humanity. Over the years I have grown to learn more about the vast network of Luciferian conspiracy that governs our material world, but I know who has dominion in the spiritual world, and He is my Lord and Savior. As the world whizzes towards its end my joy for life, understanding and satisfaction only grows. I constantly stand in awe of our Creator and that, with the crushing weight of a complicated and sinful world, He was able to reach me through a lifetime of conditioning to turn away from Him.
Now, I am no longer an armchair revolutionary. I am a soldier of Christ engaged in an active battle for the souls of humanity-and am assured of our Victory.
I hope to lend a mother’s voice to the Christian truther community, and educate and unite women raised in the age of feminism that was designed to undermine their womanhood.