As the price of living zooms to the top of the roller coaster, we get that sinking feeling in our tummies again, and fear wells up in us like a gas station burrito. Our “spidey senses” can feel what lurks in the night, trying to anchor our souls to dark piers in thought and action. It looks as if we are not driving this roller coaster, and it seems our fate is in another’s dirty little hands. We watch our world come apart at the seams on every channel as fear and anger and hate are broadcast over all virtual media. Our hearts and senses are bombarded with darkness without even watching all the bad news. All we can do is pray for peace — any flavor of peace.

We psychically feel the desperation of a people that are being herded toward the cliff. An extinction factor has activated in the hearts of those who once knew the light but now sit with dark hearts. We ask do our prayers count, or are we just puppets of a cruel god of entertainment? Our healing altars are filled to the brim with prayers for people and countries we have never visited and filled with hopes for the children of the world, praying for a divine rescue for the innocent.