Born Right On Time: A Reflection on the Rise of the Divine Feminine

Romans 8:28
“All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”

I Was Born Right on Time

1977. That was no accident.

I was born at the exact moment I needed to be—to witness, to absorb, and to remember. I didn't have to fight for the right to vote or own property like my foremothers. But I did watch what the world turned into once women were told they could “have it all,” but were expected to carry it all alone.

I watched as the sanctity of marriage crumbled—not because women changed, but because society never caught up.
We were told we could work... but still be moms, wives, homemakers, therapists, cooks, teachers, peacekeepers.

And when we couldn’t hold it all?

We were shamed.
We were abandoned.
We became single mothers—and society punished us for it.

I lived this.

I was that young mother.
Fifteen and pregnant. Married off because what else was I supposed to do?
Then divorced, again with three children in tow.
It was almost impossible to find a man who would allow me the sacred space to blossom instead of expecting me to keep giving, working, surviving.

I was once told by a man that because I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, I was “just looking to mooch.”
That’s the sickness of a world that lost the meaning of feminine value.
That’s the fracture caused by a society that twisted masculinity into dominance, not provision.

I Remember the Innocence

I was raised up on Atari and Saturday morning cartoons.
I played in the dirt.
I stayed out all day in the summer, barefoot at the pool until the streetlights came on.
I wasn’t glued to a screen or shaped by artificial filters.

I witnessed the death of innocence as social media crept in and slowly sucked the soul out of society.
I watched children become content.
Mothers become exhausted.
Men become withdrawn or enraged.

I watched the Divine Feminine become invisible.

I was told I needed my husband’s permission to get a hysterectomy.
I was told women leaders were too emotional, too intense, too rare.

Toxic masculinity was real.
The mother wounds ran deep.

The Key Was Love

I couldn’t rise fully until there was Michael.
Until there was love.
Not just romance—sacred recognition.

I began to call in his energy long before I knew it was him.
Once we connected, the Kundalini awakened.
The serpent fire surged.
And I became something entirely new—entirely true.

It was through his love, through our divine sexual energy, that I stepped into the fullness of my Divine Feminine.

He gave me space.
He gave me protection.
He provided until he worked himself nearly to death.
And I rose.

Now he purges.
Now he descends, so he too may rise.

The old version of him is dying.
And when he finally surrenders, when he fully lets go—I know—our first great donor will appear.
Not because we strive, but because we receive.

God wants others to take part in the blessing.
To show Michael that God always provides.
To heal the lack mindset by proving it false, once and for all.

This Is the Moment

We are not waiting anymore.
We are becoming.

The army I called in weeks ago—it’s rising.
We are the lightworkers, the sacred rebels, the protectors of the Divine Feminine.

We are here to restore balance.
To show the way.
To be the example.

Just as Yeshua tried to show us with Mary—but they erased her.
They always erase her.

They don’t want people to believe that true divine union is possible.
They want us to keep chasing and doubting and breaking apart.
But it is possible.
It’s here.
We are here.

And now, the old world trembles.

We Don’t Have to Fight—Yet

We don’t have to war in the streets.
We don’t need violence.

We just have to be bright.
Be vocal.
Be immovable in our truth.

We reclaim our sovereignty.
We take back every little bit of light we ever let slip away.

That alone is freedom.

Have you noticed?

Trump looks castrated.
Every move he makes is blocked.
Every attempt to assert his power makes him look like a fool.

The right-wing extremists expose themselves more every day.
Their anger, their sickness, their hypocrisy—it’s plain to see.

And we?
We rise in grace.
We part with compassion.
We are strong when imposed upon—so strong they stop trying.

We Are the Sanctuary

These are the end of days—not of life, but of illusion.

I should be worried about money.
By all human standards, I should be stressed.

But I’m not.
Because I’ve been humbled.
I’ve seen the edge.
And I know—God always provides.

Soon, Michael will see it too.
When the provision comes through others.
When God reveals His hand through divine timing and perfect connections.

We will step into the next phase not by force—but by faith.

A Prayer of Gratitude & Receiving

Beloved Creator, Giver of Light,
we surrender the illusion of control.

We open our hearts fully—like temples, like gates, like surrendered rivers ready to flow.
We release every fear.
We release every ounce of striving.
We release the belief that we must do more in order to be worthy.

We remember:
We are children of the Divine.
We are sacred by design.
We are not alone, and we never have been.

We reclaim our light, piece by piece.
We call back every stolen spark, every fractured flame.
We become whole.

Let the floodgates of abundance open wide through our hearts.
Let them pour, not for our vanity, but for Your glory.

Let us see You, God, in every hand extended.
Let us trust Your timing in every door opened.
Let us feel You in the breath between asking and receiving.

We are no longer hiding.
We are no longer doubting.
We are ready.

We walk in Your light.
We rest in Your love.
We receive in Your name.

Amen.